Malik jabbed his index finger into the empty air multiple times, pointing directly at the Vizier. "This traitor is the one working with the Mage! I had a plan to capture the Sand Mage, but he disrupted me, buying the enemy time to reform their army and plug the gaps. I have always despised the disease of treason."
He ground his teeth with pure malice and charged at the Vizier, his grip tightening around the hilt of his azure sword. The moment he reached his target, Malik unleashed a sweeping horizontal strike.
The Vizier parried seamlessly, twisting his left wrist to angle his blade downward. In the same breath, the Vizier's right hand flared with a dense brown light. He drove an open-palm strike directly into Malik's chest. Malik felt a crushing wave of kinetic force cave in his sternum, and to his absolute shock, he was launched backward, plowing through the dirt against his will.
He scrambled to his feet, white sand cascading from his clothes, completely stunned by the Vizier's raw power. He is a far greater threat than I imagined, Malik realized. The blast triggered a memory—a similar, albeit vastly more devastating, strike used by the Supreme Lord a century ago.
He still had mountains to learn if he wanted to survive in this world, but first, he had to survive this desperate battle.
The Vizier lunged forward, his sword piercing the air, intent on ending this internal war by taking Malik's life. Malik flinched, his mind racing at breakneck speed to find an escape from this lethal trap. He decided to raise his blade and brace for the parry, but the Vizier moved with a speed that eclipsed his previous strikes. Violent colors surged around the edges of the Vizier's blade until the steel resembled a meteor tearing through the atmosphere.
I cannot block this! Malik realized with chilling clarity. This strike will core my chest, and I will die all over again.
Heavens. He had only been awake for a few hours. What a miserable, pathetic fate.
Finding no other avenue of escape, he braced to absorb the blow with every ounce of strength he possessed. If he survived, the story would continue. He planted his feet into the earth, locked his arms, and gripped the sword with both hands. He leveled the point of the blade at the Vizier and charged with a war cry, desperately trying to summon the dormant power of this "Hero" body to his rescue. If this cursed power didn't manifest right now, he was dead meat, and there was no guarantee he would wake up after another century.
Perhaps I will finally return to my own world and end this nightmare, he mused. The idea wasn't entirely terrible.
Princess Yasmin desperately tried to fire her flame arrows at the Vizier, but he was moving far too fast for a disabling shot. She raised her index finger, trying to lead her target, but her hand trembled violently. She aimed several paces ahead of his trajectory, hoping he would run into the blast, and fired... but the searing bolt missed its mark by mere centimeters. It was over.
Malik pushed forward, his heart overflowing with venom for this insolent wretch who dared to challenge his authority. But he highly doubted the Hero's Path drew its power from spite; it likely required the power of friendship or some similar nonsense. He smiled cynically at the absurd thought even as he stood on the precipice of death. Honestly, dying might be less humiliating than dealing with that.
The two men closed the final distance. Suddenly, a massive figure vaulted between them, catching both their lethal strikes on his crossed axes, his wild hair whipping in the violent wind.
Kaser.
The giant hadn't disappointed him once so far. I am going to reward him handsomely after this battle, Malik promised himself.
The Vizier scowled, screaming over the clash of metal. "Get out of my way, Kaser! I nearly had this imposter... one thrust and it ends!"
Kaser lifted his head, his eyes sparking with raw fury. "I will not let you murder the hope we have waited a century for."