65 - White Serpent
Moon and Kai stood frozen, watching the lifeless white serpent's massive body lying still. But then, the ground trembled.
A faint vibration passed beneath their feet.
The serpent's pale body began to glow with a soft white light. The black-furred mouse, which had been inside its torso and created a bump , suddenly vanished—devoured, it seemed, in just a few seconds. The serpent's eyes snapped open. Slowly, life returned to its body. Its wounds began to heal, though sluggishly.
It turned its gaze toward Moon and Kai.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—CRACK!
The serpent's massive tail came crashing down, shattering the sand dune Moon and Kai had been crouching behind. The entire ridge exploded in a burst of golden dust and debris, the shockwave flinging both brothers high into the air like ragdolls.
Before Moon could even blink, the creature was already upon him.
Its jaw unhinged unnaturally wide—black abyss inside, rows of glistening teeth lining the gullet, ready to consume him whole like it had the giant mouse moments earlier.
But Moon didn't freeze.
In one smooth motion, he reached for the golden dagger strapped across his chest, fingers moving like muscle memory. With a metallic shnk, the blade slid free, its edge catching the sunlight with a divine shimmer. He twisted mid-air and launched a desperate flurry of slashes at the incoming maw.
SCHINK! SCHINK!
On the third strike—clean and precise—he severed the serpent's tongue.
A violent hiss tore through the air as the beast recoiled in agony, thrashing backwards. A gush of thick, crimson blood sprayed from its mouth like a ruptured vein, soaking the dune below in a steaming, sickly red pool.
Its silver eyes, once dull and serpentine, flared open—burning red, bloodshot with wrath.
And then—
WHOOSH.
It lunged again. Much faster.
So fast it looked like the world blurred for a second.
Moon's grip tightened on his dagger, every muscle tensed to meet the charge. He knew—if that strike landed—he wouldn't just be injured. He'd be pulverized. There was no time to dodge. No room to breathe.
But then—
BOOM!
A streak of blue cut across his vision.
Kai.
He dropped from above like a meteor, a sword raised in both hands, intercepting the serpent mid-lunge.
His blade—a sleek, elegant weapon measuring just over 1.1 meters—was no ordinary steel. Forged from condensed hydro essence mined from the deepest oceans of the Expanse, the weapon radiated a bone-deep cold. The handle was wrapped in black serpent-leather, and the raven-wing guard curved outward like the fangs of some ancient sea predator. Along the spine of the blade, glowing blue sigils pulsed softly, whispering of lost kingdoms and drowned gods.
The moment Kai unsheathed it, the air shifted.
The heat of the desert vanished.
The wind froze.
Even time itself seemed to falter—hiccuping for a brief second—as the sword moved.
No roar. No clang.
Just a clean, silent motion.
Effortless. Absolute.
A line through space that carved its own gravity.
CLANG!
The serpent's charge was deflected with surgical grace. Its momentum thrown off course, the beast spiraled sideways, crashing into the sand with a guttural screech.
Kai stood firm between Moon and death, his blade humming faintly with residue energy. He didn't glance back. His stance never faltered.
Moon exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding.
Then –
-
Moon didn't waste the opening.
With a flick of his wrists, he summoned his Uzui-style twin Nichirin swords—each blade curved, lightweight, and forged from aurum-infused lunar alloy. A vibrant violet glow ran through their cores like living veins. The twin hilts were wrapped in obsidian-black cord, their ends chained together loosely, allowing Moon to wield them like whips, scythes, or nunchucks depending on the flow of battle.
He exhaled slowly. His pupils dilated, focusing. His breathing shifted into Pulse Form: First Resonance.
Meanwhile, Kai wasn't idle.
He had spotted it—the faint scar near the serpent's upper spine. A wound from an older battle. A place where even the beast's regenerative scales looked rushed, patchy, like they feared pain.
With a single pivot on his heel, Kai launched himself forward and brought his blade down with force and intent.
SHHRRRK!
The sword sliced through the weak spot like a scalpel, flesh and scale tearing open again. Viscous crimson spilled out, and the serpent shrieked—a sound that shattered the air itself, vibrating through the dunes like a pulsewave.
Its eye twitched.
In a blink, it spun its body and whipped its massive tail with terrifying speed.
THWACK!
Kai was flung like a ragdoll, soaring backward, vanishing into the sky.
But Moon was already moving.
His twin blades blurred in his hands, spinning like rotating chakrams as he sprinted forward.
Then—the mouth opened.
But not to bite.
A horrific, wet tearing sound echoed as the serpent vomited a swarm of miniature serpents—scaled-down clones of itself, each one about the size of a small dog but just as feral. Their eyes glowed crimson, and their tongues flickered wildly.
A living tide of fangs and scales surged toward Moon.
His twin blades danced.
Each spin of the chained swords created arcs of violet light in the air. The blades ripped through the incoming swarm like a storm, diverting, slashing, cleaving. Mini-serpents burst into smoke or dissolved into grit with every contact.
Moon didn't flinch.
Didn't slow.
Each step brought him closer to the main body.
But then—
Silence.
The giant serpent vanished. The sand rippled unnaturally in its wake.
"Shit," Moon muttered, skidding to a stop. "Not now…"
But something caught his eye.
A flicker—barely visible.
A hand.
Kai's hand.
He had somehow caught the serpent's tail just before it fully burrowed. His arm trembled with effort, veins bulging with raw strain, knuckles turning white. Every inch of him screamed resistance as he dug his heels into the sand, refusing to let the creature escape.
"Moon—now!" he growled through gritted teeth.
Moon rushed to his side, grabbing the other side of the tail.
"Use hydro," Moon grunted, digging in. "I'll use electro."
Kai nodded without hesitation.
His free hand glowed as he channeled his essence. A wave of water exploded outward from him—cool, deep-blue, and saturated with charged ions, optimized for conductivity. The moisture soaked the dunes, reaching down like a net of living tendrils, spreading rapidly around the buried serpent's body.
Moon stepped back a few paces, raising both hands.
He could feel the water Kai had summoned—could feel it conduct like a living circuit.
Then, his eyes flashed.
Electricity exploded from Moon's body, channeling directly into the wet sand. Purple lightning tore through the ground like angry roots. The charge followed the water channels perfectly—racing down to the serpent's submerged form.
BOOMMMM!
A subterranean explosion ripped through the dunes. Sand erupted skyward in a mushroom cloud as the serpent's massive body convulsed and burst back to the surface, screeching in raw agony. Its scales sparked and steamed, some of them blown off entirely from the internal detonation.
The beast slammed down, twitching and disoriented.
Its form was vulnerable now.
Kai, panting hard, looked at Moon.
Moon's blades were already spinning again.
"Time to end this."
BOOM. The ground erupted.
The serpent burst out of the sand, roaring, its body sparking and sizzling from the shock.
Midair, it twisted toward Kai, fangs bared, ready to strike again.
But Kai was ready.
Though bruised and still catching his breath from the earlier impact, his stance remained solid—feet grounded, shoulders aligned, sword poised like a drawn bowstring.
He angled his blade toward the incoming threat, eyes narrowing.
The serpent surged forward again, its mouth wide, fangs dripping venom, muscles coiled like a spring. But something in its instinct screamed danger—a flicker of hesitation passed through its golden irises.
It tried to shift mid-strike.
Too late.
SLASH.
The sound was sharp and clean—like tearing silk under tension.
A deep, brutal gash split across the serpent's right flank. Flesh parted. Blood sprayed in a high arc, steaming as it hit the sun-baked sand.
Kai had timed it perfectly.
Just as the serpent twisted, he rotated his blade horizontally and pulled. A horizontal drag, powered by the serpent's own momentum—precision meets power.
The serpent recoiled mid-charge, its massive body thrashing violently.
SSSSHRRAAAAAHHHH!!
It let out a screech that shook the dunes. The very air trembled with the force of its rage.
Backing off now, it coiled itself several meters away—its massive form twisting protectively around the wounded flank. Its eyes, once cold , silvery and predatory, now glowed like molten gold, pupils contracting into razor slits.
It glared at the two brothers, head low, fangs bared.
Hatred.
Pure, unfiltered, soul-deep hatred burned in its gaze.
Its body trembled—not from fear, but fury.
Steam hissed off its open wounds as its scales shifted, changing—rippling with pulses of internal essence. Something was building inside it.
Moon stepped up beside Kai, twin blades spinning loosely at his sides, eyes locked on the beast.
"You feel that?" he muttered.
Kai gave a small nod, never looking away. "It's not backing off."
Sand around the serpent began to spiral unnaturally—magnetic fields warping, essence vibrating.
Then, the desert fell silent.
The calm before something… catastrophic.
To be continued …