章節 202: A Game of Chess IV
At least, that had been the plan.
But some plans don't just fail; they shatter, and this was one of them.
Aaron gritted his teeth, the weight of his axe pressing heavily into his arms, the tremor from each blocked impact still buzzing through his bones. He forced himself to focus, but it was impossible to ignore the reality looming before him, each strike driving it deeper into his mind.
This was no ordinary opponent. In fact, to call him an opponent at all felt like a mockery. Arthur Nightingale stood before him, a monstrous presence wrapped in calm resolve, exuding the kind of power Aaron had only heard whispered about in stories.
How was this possible?
Aaron, top talent of the West, pride of Gravehold Academy, a White-rank prodigy before seventeen—a feat celebrated, a feat considered near-legendary. And yet, here he was, face-to-face with Arthur Nightingale, who had reached Integration-rank at the very same age. It felt like standing in a valley, staring up at an unreachable peak.
"Monstrous" was too mild a word. Aaron could think of no language, no description that fully encompassed what he faced. Arthur wasn't just strong—he was something else entirely, something beyond the scope of Aaron's ambition or expectations.
This was it, he realized. The plan had failed in the most absolute sense. The quiet resignation spread through him as he lifted his axe once more, futile as it felt, and caught the eye of Ava Peng, her brows drawn with an unspoken understanding. And even with Aria Gu's fierce skill beside them, the three of them couldn't touch him.
There was no reaching this man.
For both Starcrest and Gravehold academies, it was the end of the line. Aaron could feel it in the marrow of his bones as he lifted his axe once more, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. He swung with all the strength his Grade 5 art could muster, every ounce of pride and frustration poured into that strike.
Arthur barely moved, raising his sword with an aura of earth wrapped around it like an unyielding shield. The clash was brief, brutal, and one-sided. Aaron felt the shock of his own power reverberate back into him as Arthur deflected the blow with maddening ease, forcing him to stumble as Arthur pressed him back.
From the corner of his vision, Aaron saw Aria conjure a cascade of flames, her expression set with fierce determination. The flames hurtled towards Arthur, only to meet an impenetrable wall of ice that glimmered under the sun, the frost overtaking the fire and smothering it.
Ava Peng shot forward, her fists brimming with mana, every movement charged with the precision of the Peng Family's famed Grade 5 fist art. She closed the gap, her intent sharp as a knife. But Arthur was quicker, sidestepping her advance with a swiftness that seemed almost supernatural. Before she could recover, he landed a precise kick to her stomach, sending her staggering backward, breath knocked out of her.
In that moment, the gap between them felt like a chasm. They fought, but it was like fighting against a force of nature itself—unyielding, inevitable, and indifferent.
Arthur moved with unrelenting precision, each step calculated, every swing of his sword a testament to his unshakable control. Aaron, Aria, and Ava pressed on, each feeling the weight of their academy and pride behind every strike, but they were mere sparks against a wildfire.
Aaron swung his axe in a final, desperate arc, aiming for Arthur's side. But Arthur anticipated it, sidestepping just enough for the blow to miss before slamming the hilt of his sword into Aaron's shoulder, forcing him to the ground. Aaron gritted his teeth, the pain shooting through him, but he could already see Arthur's attention shifting to Aria.
Aria conjured her flames once more, embers swirling around her as she poured her mana into her hands, hoping to overwhelm him with sheer power. Arthur raised his sword with effortless calm, his aura of ice expanding in a powerful sweep that extinguished the flames before they could even reach him. He moved forward, his sword finding the edge of her defenses, and with a sharp twist, he disarmed her, sending her stumbling back, breathless and wide-eyed.
Ava tried one last charge, fists blazing with mana, a grimace of determination on her face. But Arthur met her charge head-on, parrying her strikes with ease, each of his movements far too efficient for her to keep up. Within moments, he found an opening and struck her side with the flat of his blade, sending her reeling backward, clutching her ribs.
With the three of them subdued, Arthur stepped forward, gaze fixed on the Starcrest Academy flag planted in the ground. It fluttered in the wind, bright and defiant, but only for a moment longer. Arthur reached out, his fingers closing around the flagpole, pulling it free with a single, decisive motion.
Aaron, still on his knees, looked up at Arthur with a weary, defeated expression. "This… was inevitable, wasn't it?" he murmured, the bitterness in his voice softened by a strange hint of admiration.
Arthur didn't respond, only met his gaze with a steady look before turning away, the flag in hand. He didn't need to say anything. His actions spoke louder than any words could.
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After securing the flag from Starcrest Academy, I made my way back to the Mythos Academy base, feeling every step weigh heavier than the last. The toll of using Soul Resonance twice in such a short span had left its mark, a weariness seeping into my muscles, coiling around my bones. I could feel the strain deep within—familiar yet no less unsettling. If I was going to face Jack Blazespout at his best, I'd need more than sheer will to get through it. Rest, though momentary, was essential.
The familiar stone walls of our base loomed as I approached, each step closer carrying a small reassurance. I slipped inside, greeted by the steady hum of activity, the determination etched into each student's face as they moved through the halls. A brief nod, a quiet word exchanged, and I found my way to an empty room where I could finally breathe.
Settling onto the makeshift cot, I closed my eyes, letting the lingering echoes of battle fade from my mind. I could feel my body gradually easing, each second restoring a fragment of the energy I'd spent. Minutes passed in a hazy reprieve.
But rest never lingers in times of war. A knock at the door broke the stillness, and Cecilia's face appeared, her expression marked by an urgency that left little room for pleasantries.
"Arthur," she began, voice low but tense, "Lucifer's back. There's news."
I stood, pushing away the last tendrils of fatigue as I followed him to the meeting room where our team had gathered. Lucifer stood near the center, his expression more resolute than ever, but the set of his jaw hinted at frustration.
"Jack took the Serpentstone Academy flag. And we lost Ian." Lucifer said as he collapsed to the ground.
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