The Noble Queen-A Shadow Slave Fanfic Chapter 620: Impenetrable Wall

Roan and Noble glanced at one another, a quick understanding passing between them.

Roan had led many people into battle, and Noble had slain countless enemies in the illusory Dreamscape. There was only one chance they had against an enemy as cunning and powerful as this.

Noble went right while Roan went left. Five assailants could not spread out in the limited arena, but two could. Syrce could not keep her eyes on both, but she seed completely unconcerned by the prospect. Now that she had expelled so energy, her jittery movent had given way to calm precision.

The first three had entered the fray on more favorable terms. The remaining Masters would get no such advantage.

While her body moved to prepare for the incoming attack, Syrce's head remained eerily still. Her eyes followed Noble's movents, seeming to ignore Roan completely.

But Noble knew nothing could be further from the truth. The Saint had just finished telling the others not to get distracted. There was no way she would ignore her own advice.

Once in position, Syrce paused, inviting whatever might co. But the Masters did not hurry to take her up on her offer.

The three seed frozen in ti.

From the sidelines, Flint finished healing Helie and helped her to her feet. The surly Master stared at the clearing and rolled his eyes.

"This isn't a painting! Do sothing already!"

'Typical Flint. All talk and no patience.'

But he was right about one thing. She needed to act soon. The essence of combat was murder, and every second she gave the Saint was ti for Syrce to devise a way to take both of her opponents down without breaking a sweat.

While this was a friendly competition, the sa principle held: hit or be hit.

It was ti to act.

The world exploded in motion.

Lunging forward, Roan made a swift horizontal cut. Syrce's forearm blocked the bold move, knocking it aside.

Another cut ford on her skin, only for it to heal before the blood dripped on her peach tunic.

'Rapid healing!'

That was her other Ability. Now, Noble realized why Syrce did not wear armor. It was not her pride. She had chosen the ease of movent of her tunic because her body could take most hits without slowing her down.

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Was it just her skin, or did her bone have the sa properties?

Noble was once again very thankful that the Saint was on their side.

She had fought against the Skinwalker, who could regenerate itself. Short of total obliteration, that monster was unstoppable.

How did one kill sothing that was unkillable?

Noble was not a killer at heart. The fighting ca naturally, but ending a life? That would never feel normal.

'I don't have to kill her, just land a hit.' Noble took a deep breath.

It was clear that Syrce would not hesitate to use her arms and legs as shields for her torso. Her thod was both wild and untad, yet at the sa ti thodical and precise.

Noble's quick study attribute tingled.

'What is her secret?!'

A storm of steel rained down on Syrce's head. She blocked with abandon; each sweep seed reckless but was filled with surgical intent.

It was srizing, and it took all of Noble's focus to both study her technique and continue the onslaught without missing a beat.

Syrce crossed her blade with Roan's, but she never fully engaged. As soon as his weapon was clear of her form, the Saint repelled Noble's Zenith at almost the sa mont.

To a mundane human, it would seem simultaneous and impossible, yet Syrce made it look effortless.

With her sword in her right hand, the mossy-haired warrior made a wide arc to strike Roan, and he raised his blade to block. Noble's eyes opened wide.

"Watch out!"

The rules had only stated that Syrce needed to strike them on the shoulder; she had never stated that it needed to be with her sword.

After evading Noble's slash, Syrce's left hand shot from the other side, ready to punch the Roan in the shoulder to disqualify him.

The man in the blue scarf twisted his chest to absorb the punch, bringing down his elbow as he moved his shoulder out of the way. The result was that he caught the Saint's wrist between his breastplate and his elbow.

Syrce yelped, not in pain but in delight. "Nice move!"

Reversing her forward thrust, the Saint pulled Roan toward her. Her head was set to collide with his. It was anyone's guess whether her skull or Roan's helt was harder.

The hit did not land. Out of the corner of her eye, Syrce saw sothing flying toward her fast and straight as an arrow. Freeing her wrist, she ducked and rolled away as one of Noble's gauntlets cut the air between her and the cohort leader.

The Saint's eyes went wide. "How unorthodox! I like it!"

The gauntlet disappeared from the ground and began to form around Noble's hand once more.

There was a secondary goal to her surprising Syrce with her glove. The Saint's roll had placed her closer to the center arena. Now the two Masters could circle around their target.

The change in the playing field was huge, but it was not enough. The two Masters needed more.

The next seconds felt like hours. Each ti one of them got close to reaching the Saint's torso, Syrce's body twisted to elude the razor edge.

With each passing mont, the chance of victory lessened, and all of their techniques and thods they had learned over the years seed useless against the ancient warrior.

She was too strong, too powerful, too cunning.

Noble needed to change tactics, or their dance would end before she could comprehend the Saint's secret.

Noble frowned, trying to make sense of all the information she had gathered.

There was an indefinable quality in Syrce's movent. Sothing more than just intent. The hits were blocked simply because she wanted them to be.

Like Noble's Paradox Fang, the action was assured as soon as Syrce decided it would be so.

Her will was absolute…almost.

And it was that small break that Noble was going to exploit.

What did Noble want? To protect her family and humanity. On that, her desire was unwavering. Roan was part of that humanity. She could feel her connection to him through her Kingdom Keeper attribute.

Like she had with Flint and the belt, she allowed that connection to widen and deepen, feeding her determination.

Now, the chasm between their powers did not seem as wide as before.

Her Zenith sang through the air, missing Syrce's side by a fraction of a centiter. Another snippet of peach cloth floated to the ground.

'Closer…'

Noble pushed into her strength, searching for any chance to break through the impenetrable wall of Syrce's defense.

But no matter which thod she chose, no matter which move in her arsenal she used, no matter which angle she ca from, Syrce was always ready with an answer that left Noble wanting.

There was no beating the unbeatable.

There was one thing left to do.

If Noble couldn't defeat the Saint…she would beco her instead.