"What a horse!"
The white steed did not possess the Nightmare King’s imdiate, overwhelming nace. At first glance, it looked almost ordinary, lacking the instant visual shock that its black counterpart delivered. But the longer Marcus watched it, the more he felt a strange, almost otherworldly presence about it, quiet but impossible to ignore. That restrained majesty grew stronger with every passing second, until Marcus found himself releasing a genuine sigh of admiration.
The steed’s coat was flawlessly white, untouched by even the faintest hint of another color. Its body was long and lean, shaped like a coiled dragon, clearly concealing imnse strength beneath its elegant fra. Every movent carried a strange harmony of opposites. When it moved, it was as swift as a hare in full flight, yet when it paused, it seed as calm and composed as a maiden at rest. Not a single step appeared forced or wasted. Though it had no wings, each leap carried it dozens of feet through the air, allowing it to glide upon the wind itself, its speed rivaling a bolt of lightning. Watching it move was nothing short of breathtaking.
A soft golden radiance surrounded the steed, as though it were wrapped in a divine halo. Its eyes were tranquil, but that calm hid a commanding, kingly authority that pressed outward with quiet confidence.
’The dragon rules the sky,’ the old saying went, ’but the horse is the undisputed king of the earth.’ This creature was that saying made flesh.
There was no question about the white steed’s power. It faced the Nightmare King’s savage onslaught without fear, its offense and defense perfectly balanced as it advanced and retreated with flawless judgnt. What stunned Marcus most was its mastery over elental magic. Fire, wind, lightning, earth, all were wielded with effortless precision. It was this versatility, combined with flawless control, that allowed it to fight the Nightmare King to a complete standstill.
’A hell of a mount,’ Marcus thought, a slow, greedy grin spreading across his face. ’Riding that? You wouldn’t just be a player. You’d be a legend.’
But admiration quickly turned into gnawing curiosity. What exactly was this white steed? The question burned in his mind. He wanted nothing more than to activate Insight, to glimpse its na or at least its basic attributes. Unfortunately, both the Nightmare King and the white steed remained just beyond the range of his skill, leaving him helplessly ignorant.
He briefly considered moving closer, but that thought died almost instantly. The two steeds were exchanging devastating area-of-effect magic without restraint. One stray blast would erase him from existence. All Marcus could do was cling to his position in the tree and watch, frustration twisting in his chest.
Thankfully, the two combatants never stayed still for long. They constantly shifted positions as they fought, circling one another in a deadly dance. Marcus clung to the hope that, sooner or later, one of them would stray into Insight range. He also noticed that despite the ferocity of their battle, neither steed ever ventured far from the blue lake. Had they done so, the massive tree he was hiding in would have been reduced to splinters long ago.
This was clearly a fight to the death. There was no hesitation, no testing of strength. Both steeds were pouring out everything they had, unleashing every ability and every reserve of power with a single goal in mind, to destroy the other completely.
The white steed carried the holy attribute of Light, while the Nightmare King was steeped in the dark aura of Death. Light and Darkness, Holy and Death, they were eternal enemies by nature. Their clash was inevitable. Either the Light would cleanse the Darkness, or the Darkness would swallow the Light whole. There could be no compromise, no retreat, only endless conflict until one side fell.
The battle raged on without pause.
As a creature born of Death, the Nightmare King displayed terrifying mastery over Dark magic. Waves of Dark energy surged forward in relentless succession, torrents of Black Dragon Waves tearing through the battlefield and leaving little room to evade. Most frightening of all was the Dark Sky Thunder unleashed from its horn. There was barely any warning at all, just a faint black glow, and the next instant the crackling thunder was already crashing down upon the white steed.
Its Hellfire was no less lethal. Silent and rciless, it spread with the inevitability of a Grim Reaper’s scythe. With a single lift of its hooves, a vast Black Sea of Fire would bloom outward, swallowing the ground and attempting to ensnare the white steed in an inescapable inferno.
Arrogant, brutal, and bloodthirsty, the Nightmare King embraced its nature without restraint. It attacked relentlessly, again and again, pouring its Dark attribute into pure, overwhelming offense. To it, hesitation was weakness, and rcy did not exist.
With its powerful physique and boundless Dark energy, the Nightmare King seized complete control of the battle’s tempo. Offense was its greatest joy, its sharpest weapon, and its strongest defense. In its twisted mind, the only true safety lay in one thing alone, killing its enemy as quickly and decisively as possible.
The Nightmare King reveled in slaughter. It lived for the mont its enemies fell beneath its hooves, their bodies crushed into the earth. The stronger the opponent, the greater its excitent grew. Battle was not a ans to an end for it, it was pleasure itself.
The white steed, though forced onto the defensive by the Nightmare King’s relentless assault, showed no sign of yielding. It answered every wave of Dark magic with precise counters, weaving Water, Fire, and Earth spells together to intercept and dissolve the Nightmare King’s attacks before they could fully take shape. On the rare occasions when a Dark-attributed spell slipped through, it barely mattered. The golden Light radiating from the white steed’s body imdiately purified the lingering darkness, stripping the Nightmare King’s magic of its power.
Despite being pressured, the white steed remained composed. Its movents were steady and dignified, each step calm and deliberate, in good contrast to the Nightmare King’s savage frenzy and bloodthirsty aggression.
’The Nightmare King must have suddenly appeared in Star Lake,’ Marcus reasoned silently. ’This place is clearly the white steed’s territory. It’s guarding that lotus thing in the lake. The Nightmare King’s here to steal it.’ The thought crystallized. ’This traitor to whatever divine race it ca from... it’s picking a fight on holy ground. Ti for a lesson.’
The white steed attempted several tis to shift from defense to offense, pushing forward in an effort to seize the initiative. However, years of relative peace had dulled its edge. Its attacks lacked the ruthlessness and sharp timing born from constant battle. Compared to the Nightmare King, which had survived endless slaughter in the depths of the Demon Realm, the white steed’s offensive skills felt restrained and asured. Pure aggression was simply not where its true strength lay.
Realizing that its magic was being steadily neutralized, the Nightmare King let out a furious shriek. Its roar shook the air as rage surged through it. The idea that a re white horse could withstand its power, and worse, contest its claim to the ripening Three-Star Sacred Lotus, was intolerable.
The Nightmare King was proud and untamable. It had never accepted resistance, much less humiliation. There was nothing it believed it could not tear apart, no defense it could not shatter. With a long, ear-splitting neigh, it unleashed a final barrage of Dark magic to suppress the white steed. At the sa ti, it surged forward, accelerating explosively. Its horn crackled with Dark Sky Thunder as it lowered its head and charged straight at the white steed, intent on driving the horn through its chest.
Nightmares were evolved forms of fallen Unicorns, but they had long surpassed their origins. By absorbing the Dark attribute, they had beco monsters of resilience and destruction, boasting overwhelming vitality, terrifying defense, and explosive strength. Their short-distance burst speed was monstrous, and when paired with a horn charge, it was like wielding a Divine Artifact, capable of ripping through nearly anything. They had completely cast off the physical limitations of ordinary beasts.
The Nightmare King’s overall might rivaled that of a true Dragon. Otherwise, the Demon Lord would never have chosen such a creature as his personal mount.
In truth, the Nightmare King’s greatest strength was not its magic, but its raw physical power and brutal close-range combat. This charge was proof that it had finally decided to fight without restraint.
CRASH!
Even the swift white steed could not fully evade the Nightmare King’s explosive burst. With a deafening impact, the Nightmare King’s horn slamd directly into the white steed’s radiant golden aura.
For the first ti, the two Divine Beasts collided head-on in physical combat.
The horn alone would never have pierced the white steed’s Light attribute barrier. However, Dark Sky Thunder coursed through it, infused with concentrated Dark energy. The instant the horn made contact, the thunder began to sizzle and crackle violently, boring into the golden aura with relentless force, like a drilling tool driven by pure malice.
Light and Darkness clashed in direct opposition. A blinding flash erupted as the two attributes collided, accompanied by a piercing sizzling roar. The shockwaves from the impact tore into the surrounding terrain, carving out a massive crater nearly ten ters wide around the two beasts.
From his perch in the tree, Marcus could only stare, his breath caught in his throat.
’So this is the power of a Divine Beast,’ he thought.
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