Death Guns In Another World Chapter 2057: Another Training

The night outside was calm, the kind of silence that could lull anyone into deep rest. Yet, for Alex, true rest was sothing foreign. Even as his body lay motionless in the real world, his mind shifted to the pitch-black void of Nyx's inner world.

The familiar sensation washed over him—an oppressive gravity pulling down on every fiber of his being, the suffocating darkness that stretched infinitely, and the faint glow of shadow flas that lined the horizon like distant stars. And there, as always, she awaited.

Nyx sat upon her throne of writhing shadows, her piercing gaze fixed on him with that unreadable, frigid expression. A sword rested lazily across her knees, as though even the idea of lifting it for battle was beneath her. Yet Alex knew—once she stood, his tornt would begin.

He exhaled slowly, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders.

"Let's begin," he muttered, more to himself than her.

Nyx did not reply. Instead, the shadows around her throne rippled like water disturbed by a single drop. She rose, soundless, graceful, and the oppressive weight in the world increased instantly, pressing Alex's feet deeper into the blackened floor.

His heart pounded. For days, he had endured defeat after defeat at her hands. Sword shattered, bones cracked, blood spilled until even his regenerative abilities groaned under the strain. Yet, every failure had honed him sharper, faster, stronger. Tonight, sothing in his core scread—this ti will be different.

Without warning, Nyx vanished.

Her form blurred into nothingness, the only sign of her movent being the sudden ripple of displaced shadows around him. Alex tightened his grip on his sword and raised his guard. His instincts scread—left.

CLANG!

Her blade t his, the impact sending tremors up his arm. The sheer force nearly ripped the sword from his grip, but he dug his heels into the shadow-soaked floor, twisting his wrist to redirect her strike. Sparks lit the darkness, tiny stars born from their clash.

Nyx's expression never changed. No smile, no hint of acknowledgnt. Her eyes were cold, her movents precise, like death itself testing him.

Alex retaliated imdiately, swinging with speed he had never achieved before. His blade carved arcs of silver light, the very air tearing with his montum. Nyx weaved through them effortlessly, her sword flickering like a phantom, knocking aside his strikes with minimal motion.

But Alex pressed harder. He knew he couldn't overpower her—his only chance was to outlast, to find a single gap.

The battlefield lit up in a storm of clashing steel. Their swords scread against one another, sparks scattering like fiery raindrops. Every movent pushed Alex to his limit. Sweat rolled down his face despite his inhuman physique. His breathing grew heavier, yet his eyes never left Nyx.

She's faster. Always faster. But—her rhythm. It's not impossible.

For the first ti, he began to see it—the faint pattern beneath her flawless offense. Though her movents were fluid, like a river, there was still a current, a tempo to her strikes. His mind, sharpened from endless beatings, caught glimpses of openings.

He ducked low, sidestepped, spun on his heel. Her sword missed his neck by inches, slicing through strands of his hair. He countered with a wide slash, then quickly switched to thrust. She parried without hesitation, shadows curling around her blade to amplify her force.

The impact numbed his arm, but instead of recoiling, he grinned.

"Not enough to stop anymore."

He surged forward, aura flaring.

Nyx raised her hand without speaking. Instantly, the gravity intensified. The ground cracked beneath Alex's feet, shadows swallowing his ankles like chains. His body scread in protest as his knees buckled. The very air pressed against his lungs, making each breath burn.

But Alex refused to fall. He roared, muscles swelling, veins glowing faintly with the mana surging through him. His aura burst outward like wildfire, countering the crushing weight.

Step by step, he advanced. Each movent was a battle against the world itself, yet his eyes never wavered from Nyx's.

For the first ti, she tilted her head ever so slightly. Not shock. Not approval. Just silent acknowledgnt that he was still moving.

Alex lunged.

Their swords t again, shockwaves rippling outward, tearing through the shadowed ground. Alex twisted his body mid-clash, letting Nyx's blade slide down his own before he stepped inside her guard. His free hand reached for the dagger at his waist, slashing upward.

Nyx shifted instantly, her body flowing backward like smoke. Yet, the dagger grazed her sleeve, cutting clean through the shadow fabric.

Alex froze for half a heartbeat, eyes widening.

He had touched her.

Not a decisive wound, not even her skin—but he had broken through her untouchable defense.

Nyx's gaze lowered briefly to the torn edge of her sleeve. Then her eyes returned to him, colder than before.

"…Good."

It was a single word, the first she had spoken in this session. Her voice, soft and toneless, echoed through the void.

Alex's chest heaved, a grin spreading across his face. That one word was worth more than any praise.

"I'll do more than that," he said, tightening his grip on his weapons.

The air changed instantly.

Nyx's aura swelled, shadows exploding outward like a tidal wave. The ground shattered beneath her feet as she moved faster than before, her sword blurring into streaks of black light.

Too fast!

Alex barely managed to cross his sword and dagger in defense. The impact sent him flying, his body crashing into the ground hard enough to carve a crater. He coughed blood, his ribs shattering despite his enhanced body.

But his grin never faded. He stood, wiping his mouth.

"That was worth it."

Nyx appeared before him again, blade already descending. He parried, his arms screaming with effort, and retaliated with a downward slash of his own.

Once more, he missed her entirely. But the fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever.

The battle raged on. Shadows scread with every clash, their figures flickering through the void like warring gods. Nyx remained untouchable, her blade flawless, her movents perfect. Alex bled, bones cracked, muscles tore, yet his body regenerated and his spirit endured.

Ti lost all aning. Each exchange was another lesson, every failed strike sharpening his instincts. His mind, body, and spirit aligned with a singular goal—land a true blow.

Even if it cost him everything.

At last, it ca.

Nyx struck downward, her blade heavy with shadow. Alex blocked, staggering under the impact. But instead of retreating, he stepped forward, closing the gap in a reckless gamble.

Her eyes widened slightly—too close.

With his sword occupied, Alex twisted his body and drove his dagger upward with every ounce of strength he had.

SHRRK!

The blade cut across her shoulder, a shallow wound that spilled shadowy mist instead of blood.

Silence filled the void.

Alex panted heavily, his body trembling, but his eyes locked onto her wound. His lips curled into a triumphant grin.

"…Got you."

Nyx looked at the wound, then back at him. Her face remained unreadable, yet the silence spoke volus.

He had done it.

After endless defeats, for the first ti, Alex had landed a blow.

The oppressive gravity suddenly lifted. The shadows receded, and Nyx lowered her blade. She turned, walking back to her throne without another word.

Alex dropped to his knees, gasping for air, his dagger still trembling in his grip. He couldn't stop smiling despite the pain.

That small victory, that shallow wound—ant everything.

As he closed his eyes, letting exhaustion overtake him, he whispered:

"Next ti… it won't be shallow."

Nyx, already seated on her throne, rested her chin on her hand, staring at him with an expression too faint to na. Was it interest? Amusent? Approval?

Only the void knew.