Yes, there was not a mont to lose, and Seraphina imdiately went after Mitrass.
This could not fail.
Oryx was busy with Noha, and Mitrass had never been his priority.
Bang!
"Argh!..."
Another contest of attacks and exchanges between Seraphina and Mitrass began.
This ti, Seraphina seed to have the physical advantage in the exchanges, and Mitrass was the one who seed to have to give his all to withstand the heavy, fast, unpredictable and flexible attacks of Seraphina, whose art now made it clear how overwhelmingly superior it was to her own.
In fact, not even three exchanges passed when Mitrass felt that the chances of losing were absolute.
He felt it even more vividly when Seraphina’s spear broke through his guard and slipped through his defense, wounding his side.
Mitrass felt the chill of death. It was not a skill like Oryx’s; it was a sensation born of his experience as a warrior who had seen death up close.
If he didn’t do sothing in the next instant, he would definitely die.
FWOOOOSH-! BOOM!
A thick crimson fla engulfed Mitrass.
Seraphina’s attack was repelled by a violent repulsion, throwing her backwards.
BANG!
Mitrass did not waste the mont. He advanced and counterattacked.
This ti, the clash was more even.
Now it was he who had a slight advantage.
The crimson flas contracted, but his skin began to turn even redder. Crimson fire gushed from his wounds, so hot that it would have lted any common weapon.
The heat was intense even just by being close, and Seraphina sensed it imdiately and countered by putting on a bed of ice as well as exuding a white fla herself .
Both were like bright beacons in this dark misty forest.
She prepared to face a Mitrass who had just revealed one of her trump cards...
’Ex umbra quae nutrit, non quae-’
As another part of her anticipated what was to co next.
BANG! KRAK! CLANG!
Spear and heavy sword clashed again and again.
The exchanges beca fast, precise, brutal.
Both pushed their skills and combat techniques to the maximum.
Mitrass used repulsion when he found the slightest opening, repelling attacks with violence.
Seraphina, for her part, struck, deflected and withstood direct hits without yielding ground.
The difference in size and musculature was enormous. Even so, neither could get the better of the other.
THUD—CRASH—RUMBLE—KRAAASH
Both moved ferociously, devastating the forest around them. Trees shattered, ground bursting, shockwaves coursing through the area.
The intensity was such that the beasts that inhabited the place - so of eighth tamorphosis - died as re collateral damage.
They were walking disasters. Taking the lives of those they crossed and terraforming everything in their path:
Both fought with absolute concentration, assessing each other without pause, reading the environnt, looking for an advantage, a mistake, a split second.
Both were fighting to end the fall of the other as quickly as possible.
There was no holding back.
There were no distractions.
Only the intention to kill.
BOOM—THRUM, CLANG!
The hands of both were already damaged. Minor wounds were piling up, blood splattered on the ground... but neither hesitated.
Neither looked away.
A single mistake could lead to their death.
Mitrass quickly entered a state where he looked like a red-skinned demon, his blood was literally on fire.
On the other hand, Seraphina stood firm with her ice and white flas that contrasted with Mitrass’s.
Crimson flas were shooting out of Mitrass’ body and, from ti to ti, splashing Seraphina.
He knew what his blessing was capable of.
Even so, Seraphina had no reaction.
Originally, any contact with his blood in that state was supposed to cause the opponent’s blood to begin heating or burning from within, to the point where that alone would be enough to ensure his victory.
But no.
With Seraphina, that wasn’t happening; the white flas seed to counterattack him perfectly.
BROMM! CLRANG! BANG!
The two powers kept clashing again and again to demonstrate their superiority, and with each exchange the violence escalated and more injuries were sustained.
Mitrass thought that this would ultimately give him an advantage, since another function of his blessing was that the more wounded he was, the stronger his fire beca and the more strength he received.
But even that was countered by Seraphina, who possessed the berserker skill, which, in addition to rage, significantly increased her strength with each wound she suffered, in exchange for her sanity.
But Seraphina didn’t have to worry about that last flaw.
For that very reason, it was one of the skills that her alternate self implicitly suggested she try to obtain at so point.
That is why she had done what she had done before and risked herself to obtain this powerful and, most importantly, highly compatible skill.
Boomm!
"Uagh!"
Mitrass’ body trembled under the impact.
It seed that the progression and strength gained from the wounds - at least from the amount of wounds received - was more noticeable on Seraphina than on Mitrass.
She again reached a point where she began to overwhelm Mitrass, piercing through his defense and wounding his shoulder.
The attack was aid at his heart, but he managed to deflect the impact, but did not quite make it, and impacted with his shoulder.
Mitrass even now did not understand what she was doing.
His tyrannical body, and even more so in this state in which he was using his blessing, should be so strong and resilient that even soone of his rank specialized in physical defenses would be far behind him.
And yet, Seraphina managed to wound him with ease every ti her spear struck.
Moreover, that blow, even though he deflected it, seed to affect him greatly. He felt that it had hit one of his joints in such an exact point that he lost all coordination with his left arm.
Mitrass was feeling a tightness like never before. He felt that even that attack, which originally seed aid at his heart, had had that purpose from the beginning, or rather that every attack of Seraphina’s ca with innurable intentions.
It was an experience and decision making in combat that even he had not seen in the best veterans.
She also seed to find weak spots with extre ease.
Even if he didn’t show it, Seraphina’s presence began to beco more oppressive and overwhelming, within him.
The oppression was growing to a point that soone like him, who had never thought to feel anything like fear, was beginning to feel it.
Looking into Seraphina’s pink eyes, which seed to pierce him and were determined to kill him, made it even worse.
Mitrass felt it: he was at death’s door.
Even giving everything he had, he felt overwheld. Still, he didn’t let himself be crushed by that feeling and again burst out his crimson flas and his ability to get Seraphina off his back.
He needed to regain control of the situation... and himself.
But-
Bang!
Seraphina wouldn’t let him. She did not take off. At the cost of so injuries, she stayed close to Mitrass.
It was as if she didn’t mind dying, as if she was determined to go to the end, where there would be only two outcos.
Either he would die, or she would drag him with her to his death.
With no other options.
That thought only increased the pressure on Mitrass. Seraphina was overwhelming him both physically and ntally: his two strongest points.
And with the loss of one of his arms, a sense of inevitability washed over him. His end was near; he predicted that less than three exchanges was how long it would take Seraphina to finish him.
But then-
"Cough-!"
The flow, fury and overwhelming aura were stopped as Seraphina suddenly let out a heavy puff of blood.
Her movents faltered, beca awkward, and finally gave Mitrass the respite he needed.
When Mitrass saw Seraphina stop and her bad state-not to ntion that she was spitting blood-he noticed that blood was pouring out of her narisz eyes and any orifice and use her chest seed to have turned black and that the veins were more swollen and grotesque.
Just as he had deduced earlier, using so much power while being only a sixth morphogenesis did not co without a price.
Mitrass felt it was an opportunity to change the flow. Although he had finally been able to take a breather, he decided to attack and finish her off.
But as he advanced, instead of seeing helplessness or fear in Seraphina’s eyes, he saw a bit of....
Relief?
When Mitrass saw it, a shiver ran through his body. He tried to back away again, but it was too late.
Seraphina opened her mouth and uttered the last verse of what she - no, what they both - had been preparing.
"Thronus Spinarum Obscurarum"(x2)
Both voices echoed, and although their battle was supposed to have been fierce and they had moved around a lot, for so reason everyone still seed to be very close by.
Mitrass’s chill grew even more intense; he realised too late that at so point Seraphina had stolen his entire focus and he hadn’t noticed the chaos surrounding him.
Yes, it was true that Seraphian also had all her thoughts seriously focused on Mitrass at all tis during their combat.
But it was only a thought.
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