Steel clashed against steel. Sparks bloomed like dying stars in the twilight battlefield as Onyx and Ardan collided again and again, their strength echoing through the crumbling ruins of the forgotten ages.
Onyx's black armor shimmered with violet veins, the faint mist of shadow seeping from his joints as he thrust his lance in sweeping arcs. Ardan met every strike head-on, his monstrous sword moving like a wall of iron and fury.
"Raging Cleave!" Ardan roared. The ground split beneath him as his blade carved a scar of pure force, a crimson arc slicing toward Onyx.
Onyx's eyes flashed, and his form blurred—a shadow skipping through the air. The attack exploded behind him, throwing chunks of earth skyward. He landed low, twisting his wrist; black armament energy gathered across his lance, forming jagged, spectral blades along its length.
Onyx charged, hurling the blades toward Ardan. Each piece whistled like a banshee's cry, streaking violet through the smoky dusk.
Ardan crossed his sword and growled, "Iron Crest's Resilience!"
A metallic pulse burst from his body, forming a translucent crest of red iron that blocked the incoming blades, though cracks spidered across it with every impact. One blade pierced through, grazing his cheek, leaving a shallow cut that bled dark red.
Ardan grinned, eyes burning. "Good. I hate easy fights."
He lunged. The sheer weight of his swing crushed the ground beneath his feet, sending dust and shattered stones flying. Onyx met him mid-motion—lance and sword colliding, each blow heavy enough to twist the air.
For a moment, they were equals—raw power meeting calculated precision. Onyx shifted his stance, kicked off Ardan's sword, and flipped backward, summoning darkness beneath Ardan's feet.
Shadow Bind!
Tendrils of night burst from the soil, wrapping around Ardan's legs and arms, tightening until his armor creaked.
Onyx's eyes were cold as he pulled his lance back, energy coiling around its tip like a spear of night. He dashed forward, ready to pierce through Ardan's heart.
But Ardan roared. His aura exploded outward, red and furious, and the ground beneath him cracked.
"Raging Shout!"
A blast of raw will shattered the bindings, sending Onyx hurtling back, skidding across the ground. The roar itself felt alive, echoing through the battlefield like thunder.
"You think you can cage a beast,?" Ardan's grin widened. "You'll have to do better!"
Onyx said nothing. His grip tightened on the lance, violet eyes cold and steady, stepping forward as shadows coiled, ready to strike again.
Ardan's laugh shook the air. " Dont wanna talk, then just die standing!"
They charged again—lance versus sword—clashing so violently that the air itself howled between them.
Elsewhere, Theo and Zeven were locked in their own storm.
Their swords flashed, golden and crimson arcs crossing again and again. Theo's breath came in sharp bursts, his golden eyes glowing faintly as he moved. Zeven's blade, now emanating a sinister red haze, hummed with the bloodline's energy.
Zeven shouted, "Bloodline Edge!" and released a horizontal slash so fast it seemed to cut through ground itself. Theo barely dodged, the edge grazing his arm. He winced but countered instantly—his feet bursting forward in a blur.
"Dash!"
The ground cracked under his burst of speed, and in an instant, he was behind Zeven, blades spinning in a tight motion. "Rattle of the Deep!"
Dozens of rapid strikes cascaded toward Zeven. Sparks erupted like fireworks as Zeven blocked with furious precision. He stepped back, using Quick Step, a lesser version of Dash, flickering from spot to spot.
Theo gasped, "H-how are you moving that fast?"
Zeven smirked, blade gleaming. "What's wrong, boy? Legs trembling already? Try harder—I'm barely warming up."
He spun his blade, crimson light gathering along its jagged edge. Theo charged again, both of them striking at once. The air split between them—a pulse of golden and red energy tearing through the ground.
Both were breathing heavily now, faces dirt-streaked, eyes wild. They had stopped fighting for pride; they were fighting to survive.
Zeven's words cut through the noise. "You're just a brat who doesn't know when to stop!"
"And you're a swordsman who's already lost!" Theo shouted back. Their blades met, ringing with finality.
The battlefield around them was chaos. Kairo watched from the vantage point, hands clenched over the glowing Command Nexus. His kobolds and ghouls had reduced the bandit forces to a fraction, but victory didn't feel certain anymore.
Kairo frowned, a strange unease gnawing at him. "Wait… why do I feel like I'm forgetting something important?" he muttered—then the ground rumbled violently beneath his feet.
Then he looked back at the two duels. Onyx and Ardan were locked once again, their weapons clashing with sparks of black and scarlet. Theo and Zeven moved like two streaks of light across the battlefield.
Everything felt too quiet between impacts—like the world was holding its breath.
And then—
ROOOOOOOOAAAAARRRR!
A monstrous bellow tore through the battlefield, so deep that the sky itself seemed to shudder. Dust and smoke rippled outward. The tremors intensified, sending soldiers, kobolds, and even ghouls to tense up.
Both duels froze mid-motion.
Onyx turned first, eyes narrowing toward the southern ridge. Ardan lowered his sword slowly, his grin returning, wider than ever. "Heh… so it's awake."
Theo and Zeven both staggered, their faces pale. Even Zeven's arrogance faltered as he looked toward the sound. "Brat, what you just awakened—your are doomed."
Kairo's eyes darted across the battlefield, taking in the chaos.
Then his gaze fell. Flint. Injured, blood streaking across his green-scaled arm, yet he stood unwavering, his stance firm despite the pain. Relief and concern waged a silent war in Kairo's chest.
And there it was—Raghul. The scar across his face pulsed with an intense red light, a furious aura radiating from him. He was wounded, yes, but every inch of his body screamed fury, power, and unyielding rage. Kairo felt a chill as the pieces fell together: he had underestimated the depth of their resolve. The battlefield wasn't just about skill or tactics anymore; it was about the raw, desperate will of those who refused to fall.
The ground beneath him seemed to hum, the tremors syncing with the fire in Raghul's eyes, signaling that the next moment would change everything.
"Flint!" Theo's voice tore through the battlefield, desperate, raw. "Hold on, I'm—
Ardan's mocking laugh cut him off, sharp and cruel. "Your lizard faces Raghul now… the strongest. He's doomed, boy. There is no saving him—he faces annihilation, and you can do nothing to stop it!"
To be continued....