章 402: Dance of Blades and Hope
The clash of our blades sent tremors through the chamber, ripples of energy carving deep scars into the already fractured walls. My Grade 5 technique reached its apex, my astral energy surging like an unrelenting tide. I felt it build and crest, spilling over the edge of my control as my blade pressed against the Paladin's own. For the first time, his astral energy faltered, bending beneath the sheer force of mine.
'His art is weaker,' I observed, a note of grim satisfaction threading through my thoughts. The Paladin, for all his monstrous power, hadn't trained in a high-level technique like I had. It was an edge—slight, but significant.
Yet even as I pushed him back, wariness tempered my resolve. The Paladin of Void wasn't fighting at full strength. Not yet. His movements carried a restraint that chilled me far more than the clash of our swords.
I swung my blade in a downward arc, my strike aiming to cleave through his defenses entirely. For a moment, it seemed I had succeeded. My astral blade cut through his guard, slicing into his shoulder. The sensation of resistance, followed by the sickening give of flesh, was fleetingly satisfying.
But the Paladin moved faster than thought, his shadowed sword flashing toward my side. The weight of his counterattack bore down on me like an avalanche.
A blaze of fire erupted between us, searing away the darkness. The flames roared with a feral intensity, licking at my skin without so much as a scorch. I knew instantly who had saved me.
"Thanks, Cecilia," I muttered, catching my breath as the Paladin stepped back, his wound already knitting itself closed.
The gap between us yawned like a canyon. This was the power of an Immortal-ranker. After undergoing the second body metamorphosis, his ability to regenerate was almost effortless. Even a wound that would cripple a lesser fighter required barely a flicker of mana for him to heal.
Cecilia's control over her spell had been immaculate. The flames had kissed my skin without burning me, yet they had driven the Paladin back, giving me a moment to regroup. Her precision was a masterpiece in its own right, a silent reassurance that she had my back.
But there was no time for gratitude. The Paladin moved again, his sword shifting with a terrifying grace. As he brought it down, the air itself seemed to buckle under the weight of his attack.
It wasn't just a strike—it was the descent of a meteor, a cataclysm given form.
I felt the pull of his dark magic, a gravitational force that made escape impossible. My attempts to teleport sputtered out, the spatial threads unraveling under his control. I had no choice but to meet him head-on.
'A battle of strength, then?' I thought grimly.
I poured Mythic Transplant into my right arm, channeling its raw potential. My astral energy, already blazing at its peak, coalesced into something sharper, something hungrier. I wove into it the feelings of starvation—of insatiable need—letting it amplify my strength as Astral Manifestation pushed it beyond mortal limits.
Second movement: Hollow Eclipse.
Two layers of astral energy spun together in a dance of ten elemental threads, dark astral spots weaving between them like a constellation of shadowed stars. The energy surged into my blade as I brought it up to meet his, the force of our clash rippling outward in a shockwave that rattled the very foundation of the Tower.
The pressure was unimaginable. My teeth clattered from the strain, my bones screaming against the weight of his strike. The ground beneath me cracked, my feet sinking into the fractured floor. Ice seeped out instinctively, forming a slick sheet that let me glide back instead of anchoring myself to the ground.
For a moment, I broke free, gaining precious distance. Cecilia seized the opening, her spells raining down on the Paladin with relentless precision. Freed from the need to hold back for my sake, her magic became a tempest—blades of flame, arcs of lightning, and piercing shards of ice converging on him like a celestial storm.
The Paladin's response was immediate. His shadowed mana flared, a dark sphere enveloping him. The spells crashed against it, their brilliance dimmed as the sphere absorbed their force. He emerged unscathed, his gaze fixed on me, the promise of annihilation etched into every line of his being.
But even in his relentless pursuit, I caught something—a hesitation, a flicker of caution in his movements.
'He's wary of us,' I realized. For all his power, the Paladin of Void was no mindless beast. He recognized the threat we posed together. Alone, I might not have stood a chance. But with Cecilia, with our synergy of spell and blade, we were forcing him to adapt.
I couldn't let the momentum falter.
Luna's voice rang in my mind through our shared link. 'Arthur, we need to push him further. He's holding something back.'
I nodded, adjusting my grip on my blade. My thoughts split again under Mind's Aegis, streams of calculation weaving through the chaos. My next move formed in my mind's eye, layers of astral energy aligning with surgical precision.
This wasn't a fight I could win through attrition. This was a battle of execution—one wrong step, and we'd be undone.
As the Paladin advanced, I prepared to meet him again. This time, I wasn't just fighting to survive. I was fighting to finish this.
Cecilia, sharp as ever, seemed to pick up on my intent. Her spells intensified, each one a crescendo in a symphony of destruction. Fire roared, ice lanced, and lightning cracked through the air. The Paladin of Void, for all his strength, was no longer able to brush off her attacks with sheer astral energy alone. He was forced to meet them head-on, his shadowed sword deflecting her barrage with calculated precision.
'Calm down,' I thought, slowing the torrent of my thoughts under the steady hand of Mind's Aegis. My focus narrowed, every stream of consciousness zeroing in on the Paladin. I studied him—not just his movements but the rhythm of his battle, the small tells that even an Immortal-ranker could not fully suppress.
He was formidable, but he wasn't flawless. And flaws, no matter how small, could be exploited.
I found it. A gap. A flicker of opportunity woven into the intricate dance of his defense.
Mythic Transplant surged into my right leg, power coiling like a spring, and I unleashed God Flash: Absolute.
The world blurred. My blade struck with such speed and force that the Paladin's defenses shattered. The searing light mana of my attack bit into his body, consuming it with an almost feral ferocity. Flesh disintegrated, bone dissolved, and yet, even as his body was torn apart, he began to regenerate.
I landed, sliding back into a ready stance as the Paladin turned toward me. His movements slowed, and for the first time, there was a flicker of wariness in his shadowed gaze. He raised his sword higher, his guard tightening.
But so what?
If he thought that was my best, he was sorely mistaken.
My real God Flash: Absolute hadn't yet been unleashed.
This time, I shifted Mythic Transplant from my leg to my arm. My power recalibrated in an instant, condensing into a single, devastating strike. I launched myself forward, faster than before, a streak of light cutting through the dim haze of the battlefield.
Even the Paladin of Void—this ancient warrior who had faced gods and monsters—couldn't adapt in time. His movements betrayed the habits of countless battles, ingrained over centuries. He moved to counter the speed of my earlier attack, but I was no longer bound by the rhythm he expected.
My blade cut through him again, not just severing his body but tearing into the essence of his soul. The ethereal scream that followed was felt more than heard, reverberating through the very air like the tolling of a mournful bell.
The Paladin staggered as his body crumbled once more, this time regenerating far slower than before. His shadowed energy flickered erratically, his aura destabilizing.
Soul wounds were not easily healed. Even for an Immortal-ranker, the soul was the foundation of power, and once damaged, it was a wound that lingered, gnawing at their strength.
Cecilia seized the moment, her spells hammering down with renewed fervor. The battlefield became a storm of light and fury, her seven-circle magic bending the elements to her will. Fire cascaded like molten rivers, ice erupted into jagged spires, and arcs of lightning laced the air with an electric hum.
Despite the chaos, my mind remained still, focused. The Paladin wasn't defeated yet. He was weaker now, slower, but a cornered beast is most dangerous when it feels the jaws of defeat closing in.
"Arthur," Cecilia's voice rang through the shared mental link, sharp and clear. "He's not done. Watch his sword."
Her warning came just in time. The Paladin's weapon, carved from shadows themselves, began to shift, its blade warping into an ominous, serrated edge. Dark energy coiled around it like living tendrils, the weight of its intent pressing down on me like the pull of a black hole.
He lunged, the strike aimed not at my body but at my soul.
I moved to intercept, Soul Vision flaring to life as I met his attack with my own. My blade, imbued with the full force of my astral energy, clashed against his corrupted weapon. The impact sent shockwaves through the chamber, the floor cracking and the air itself shuddering from the collision.
His attack bore down with relentless force, but I refused to yield. I drew on everything—Lucent Harmony, Astral Manifestation, the lingering echoes of Cecilia's spells that danced in the air. My blade became an extension of my will, every strike and parry a testament to the hours, the years, I had spent refining my craft.
Cecilia was right beside me, her presence a constant reassurance. Her magic wove seamlessly into my attacks, each spell a perfect complement to my movements. Together, we were a storm—unrelenting, unpredictable, and unstoppable.
For the first time, I saw doubt flicker in the Paladin's gaze.
And for the first time, I felt the faintest glimmer of hope.
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