Cain and the masked man continued their brutal clash, each impact releasing shockwaves that rippled across the battlefield, hurling allies and enemies alike through the air.
Both fighters were knocked back from the force of their collision, their feet sliding against the ground. They locked eyes, silent yet seething, before vanishing in a flash. Cain swung his weapon, but the masked man reacted first, driving his blade deep into Cain’s shoulder. As he attempted to pull the sword free, it jammed, giving Cain an opening. Cain brought his weapon down in a powerful arc, severing the masked man’s left arm and rending the earth beneath them, sending fractures racing across the ground. The enemy lines faltered, their formation broken, giving Cain’s allies a chance to press forward.
The masked man staggered back to gain distance, but Cain immediately pursued him, launching an upward swing that tore through the ground, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
“Don’t run! We’re not done yet!” Cain taunted, his voice carrying over the chaos.
The masked man sneered. “Run from someone like you? Never.” He steadied himself, focusing his senses and extending his awareness in a four-meter radius around him.
‘The moment you enter my domain, I’ll slice you in half.’
Feeling Cain’s approach, he struck without hesitation, slashing Cain’s body repeatedly, turning it into a bloody mess. Each blow split the ground further, scattering debris with the force of his relentless assault. But soon, he noticed his blade was meeting resistance, unable to cut as deeply through Cain’s body as before.
‘What… what the hell is going on?’ he thought, confusion flickering across his face.
Desperate to end the fight, he focused all his strength into a single, decisive blow. As he brought his blade down toward Cain’s neck, his sword was abruptly halted—Cain had caught it between his teeth. The masked man’s eyes widened, and before he could react, Cain drove a punch into his stomach, sending him hurtling across the field. Cain leapt after him, the ground cracking under his feet, and caught up as the masked man plummeted toward his own forces.
With a roar, Cain swung his axe downward, aiming to end it once and for all, but the masked man twisted away just in time, lashing out with a kick to Cain’s face. Regaining his stance, he summoned a new weapon—a grotesque sword with a fleshy, pulsating exterior and a single eye embedded in the hilt, glaring with malicious intent.
A faint message echoed in his mind, granting permission. "You can go all out now."
“Finally, I’ve been waiting for this!” the masked man smirked, swinging his new blade. In an instant, Cain found himself on his knees, his body struggling to keep up with the masked man’s newfound speed. As he tried to rise, his neck was sliced, though his resilient body kept him from succumbing.
“Die!” the masked man snarled, raising his weapon for the final blow—only to be intercepted by a sword of pure light that slashed across his torso.
The masked man stumbled back, then laughed maniacally. “Hahahahaha… the Swordsman of Light,” he sneered, pointing his twisted blade at the newcomer.
The masked man faced the Swordsman of Light, his grotesque, fleshy sword held with a cruel precision, its embedded eye twitching as if alive. In contrast, the Swordsman of Light’s blade gleamed with a pure brilliance, slender and straight-edged, its polished surface reflecting his calm but fierce expression.
The two combatants circled each other, their steps measured and calculating. The Swordsman of Light was the first to make a move, advancing with a quick step and a low thrust aimed at the masked man’s midsection. The masked man parried by rotating his wrist, angling his blade to deflect the strike while maintaining his footing, the clash of metal ringing sharply in the air. He retaliated with a horizontal slash aimed at the Swordsman’s exposed side.
Anticipating the strike, the Swordsman of Light shifted his weight, stepping back and raising his sword in a high guard to block, tilting his blade just enough to redirect the masked man’s swing downward. As the masked man’s sword was forced low, the Swordsman of Light capitalized, pivoting forward and delivering a swift cut toward the masked man’s neck.
But the masked man twisted sharply, evading the strike by inches, his grotesque blade whipping upward in a powerful counter aimed at the Swordsman’s torso. This time, the Swordsman barely managed to deflect the blow, sparks flying as their blades scraped together, the embedded eye glaring hungrily as if sensing the desire for blood.
The masked man adjusted his stance, his movements rough but brutally effective. He lunged forward, his sword striking in rapid, diagonal arcs, each swing aimed to catch the Swordsman off-guard. His strikes were unorthodox, unpredictable, and marked by a controlled savagery. But the Swordsman met each blow with practiced skill, his blade moving in smooth, efficient lines to parry each swing. He stepped in and out of range, controlling the distance with precision, shifting his center of gravity with each block, his sword always ready to intercept.
“You’re quick,” the masked man sneered, his voice laced with frustration. “But speed alone won’t save you.”
“Speed and precision,” the Swordsman corrected, his tone calm and unwavering. He shifted his grip on the hilt, adjusting to a lower guard, ready for a new series of exchanges. In a flash, he advanced with a sequence of thrusts and feints, testing the masked man’s defense with swift, probing strikes.
The masked man met each thrust, his grip tightening as he redirected the attacks with powerful downward blocks, using the unnatural weight of his fleshy blade to his advantage. Each impact sent vibrations through their weapons, and he could feel the pressure as the Swordsman’s blade cut dangerously close, grazing the edges of his stance.
Their swords clashed again, both fighters now locked in close quarters. The masked man swung his weapon in a circular motion, aiming to break the Swordsman’s balance, but the Swordsman responded with a sharp sidestep and a low cut toward the masked man’s leg. The masked man was forced to leap back, his movements hindered by the weight of his weapon, giving the Swordsman the chance to press forward.
The Swordsman advanced with a flowing series of strikes, his blade moving with a dancer’s grace and a warrior’s discipline. A downward slice transitioned seamlessly into a thrust, followed by a horizontal cut, each strike flowing into the next with deadly efficiency. The masked man deflected the first two attacks but barely managed to parry the third, his stance wavering under the onslaught.
Realizing he was losing ground, the masked man twisted his weapon, flipping the blade in his hand as he drove it into the earth, carving a line of fissures to disrupt the Swordsman’s footing. The ground buckled, forcing the Swordsman to step back, and the masked man took advantage, pulling his blade free and lunging forward with a powerful overhead strike.
The Swordsman of Light reacted swiftly, raising his blade in a high guard to meet the descending blow. The impact of their swords reverberated through their arms, and for a moment, they were locked in a test of strength, each struggling to overcome the other’s resolve.
With a swift twist of his wrist, the Swordsman slid his blade along the masked man’s weapon, redirecting the force to the side. He then delivered a precise cut to the masked man’s shoulder, his blade biting deep into flesh. The masked man staggered back, blood trickling down his arm, but his resolve was unbroken.
A grin stretched across the masked man’s face. “Is that all you’ve got?”
In response, the Swordsman shifted his stance, his sword held steady and resolute. “You’ll see soon enough.”
The two opponents clashed again, each blow more intense than the last, their swords singing in a deadly symphony of skill and ferocity.