The clash did not slow. If anything, it grew more savage.
Wind and shadow exploded every ti their weapons t. Each step they took shattered the ground beneath them. Burning trees snapped like twigs, flas scattering into the air as shockwaves rolled through the forest.
Clang!
Clash!
BOOM!
Amon swung his hatchet low while thrusting his sword high. Zerath twisted midair, wind lifting his body unnaturally as both attacks barely missed vital points. His sword spun, carving a spiral of compressed air that tore across Amon’s chest.
Blood burst out. Amon grunted but did not stop.
"Hahaha." Amon laughed. He didn’t know the reason, but he felt like he was getting stronger the more he fought. He stepped into the pain and slamd his forehead forward.
Crack!
Their heads collided. Zerath staggered back a step, surprised. Amon followed instantly, shadows wrapping around his legs.
[Shadow Clutch]
The darkness grabbed Zerath’s ankle.
"Tch!"
Zerath slamd his foot down. A violent surge of wind exploded from his body, shredding the shadow apart. He seized the opening and kicked Amon square in the stomach.
BOOM!
Amon was sent flying backward, crashing through a burning tree. The trunk snapped, flas swallowing his body for a mont before he rolled out, coughing hard.
His vision blurred. His breathing was ragged. Mana scread through his veins, tearing at muscles already pushed beyond their limit.
Yet the smile on his face never wavered. Amon tried to move, but Zerath did not give him ti.
He raised his sword with both hands. The wind around it condensed until the blade was almost invisible inside the pressure.
[Tempest Execution]
He vanished. Not just moved. He was so fast it looked like he vanished from his position. His target was without a doubt Amon.
Amon’s instincts scread. He crossed his weapons just as Zerath reappeared above him, blade crashing down.
BOOOOM!
The impact slamd Amon into the ground like a teor. The earth caved inward, forming a shallow crater. Armor plates on his shoulders shattered completely.
Amon coughed violently, blood pouring from his mouth. His vision turned black for a second.
Zerath landed nearby, breathing heavier now, chest rising and falling. Blood still flowed from the slash on his torso, but his grin remained.
"You’re breaking," he said. "I can feel it. But one thing is sure. You are persistent."
Amon forced himself up on trembling arms.
"Maybe," he muttered. "But not yet. Hahaha."
He slamd both weapons into the ground.
The shadows spread violently, crawling outward like liquid night, devouring the firelight around them. Flas near Amon dimd, then vanished entirely as his shadow covered them.
Zerath frowned. The darkness deepened.
Amon rose slowly, standing in a patch of shadow untouched by fire. His eyes burned with fury and madness.
He charged. This ti, there was no technique. No form. Only raw killing intent.
Sword.
Hatchet.
Zerath t him head-on.
Multiple Dark black trajectories t blue trajectories.
Their blades collided again and again, faster than before. Sparks, wind, and darkness filled the air. Zerath landed a slash across Amon’s shoulder. Amon responded by burying his hatchet into Zerath’s side.
Blood sprayed from both of them. They kicked, elbowed, slamd each other with mana-enhanced blows. Both n looked at each other with wide grins on their faces.
Crack!
Zerath’s knee smashed into Amon’s ribs. Sothing broke. Amon roared. The shadow from his hatchet moved instantly to his forehead, and then he headbutted him again, shadow exploding from his skull.
Amon moved without any technique. "Hahaha." His laughter spread through the dark, burning forest.
He clashed against Zerath, matching his speed. Zerath t all his wild attacks head-on, but his body was slowly getting tired.
He could not believe how this boy, Amon, was moving with that broken, damaged body. Why he was still standing and fighting, even though Amon was far more wounded than Zerath himself.
Amon’s face looked delighted, as if he could continue to fight forever.
Blood was still streaming slowly down from the cut on Zerath’s chest, so he was not in good condition either.
He now understood one thing. The boy was too crazy. Too insane. He was a madman.
Every ti Zerath tried an attack that could kill Amon, he sohow avoided it. His body was covered in blood, yet he was still matching Zerath’s speed.
Though he could not physically match Zerath, it felt as if Amon’s body was moving on instinct. That made it difficult even for Zerath to land a perfect killing blow. Zerath, a person who was a rank above him.
Out of all this, Zerath noticed sothing very dangerous.
He could see it. Amon’s dark eyes. They were filled with a pure desire to kill him. Nothing else. He just wanted his enemy dead.
The forest scread. Then Zerath’s eyes sharpened. He couldn’t let it go like this. "This ends now," he declared.
He planted his foot into the ground. The wind around the entire battlefield surged toward him, compressing into a single, terrifying pressure.
He used a huge amount of his mana. Amon felt it instantly. The air grew heavy. Hard to breathe. Hard to move. Zerath thrust his sword forward with everything he had.
[Storm Breaker]
The wind exploded. Amon tried to raise his weapons, but he was slow. The blast hit him head-on.
BOOOOOOM!
Amon was launched through the air like a broken doll, spinning uncontrollably. His body smashed through burning branches, rocks, and trees, flas tearing at his skin.
He flew far. Very far away. There was darkness.
His body burst out of the fire-filled forest and crashed violently into a section untouched by flas. The ground there was cold, damp, and silent.
The trees were not burning there. Even the burning forest was unable to brighten that area. Amon skidded across the earth before slamming into a large rock.
Crack.
He fell still. Smoke rose from his torn clothes. Blood pooled beneath him. His weapons lay several ters away.
The burning forest roared in the distance. Zerath stood far away among the flas, staring into the darkened section of the woods.
"...Not dead yet," he muttered.
He could not see well, but he knew. Sohow, he knew that boy was not dead yet.
In the silent darkness, Amon lay unmoving. But beneath him, the shadow began to move again.
His eyes were still open. With the sa desire. It was not his first ti feeling this. He had felt like this in past as well.
The desire, it was no longer revenge or hate anymore. This was a pure desire to bring death to his opponent. To his enemy.
A little distance away from Amon, deep in the dark forest. Away from burning forest, multiple dark figures stood silently, staring in the direction of Amon and Zerath.
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