The moment their blades met, it felt as if the very air trembled from the sheer force. Steel clashed against steel—blocking, counterattacking, each strike aiming to bring the other down.
Their movements were so fast, they were nearly invisible to the naked eye. Every step they took echoed with the splash of water, creating a rhythm to their violent dance.
To an outsider, this might have looked like a deadly duel, but to them, it was more of a conversation. A wordless exchange between warriors, each trying to learn more about the other through the language of blades.
And Ryusei—who knew nothing of swordsmanship—was somehow keeping up with Vazrothvra.
That was thanks to his innate talent: Quick Learner. He absorbed everything—Vazrothvra's footwork, the arc of his swings, the way he blocked each attack.
Calling him a genius wouldn't be enough to describe it.
But none of that mattered in the heat of the moment. The only thing that existed was the fight—their focused eyes, their smiling faces betraying the thrill they felt.
They exchanged strikes, weaving around each other, searching for an opening.
And then, Ryusei snapped his fingers.
A blade descended from the sky like black lightning, aiming straight for Vazrothvra's head. He leapt back just in time—the blade slammed into the ground between them. Without missing a beat, Ryusei grabbed it and charged forward.
Then came Fast Strike.
To Vazrothvra, it felt like Ryusei had sprouted five arms, each holding a sword. That was how fast he thrust—but Vazrothvra deflected most of them with his greatsword, though some still grazed his armor.
Ryusei released the sword in his left hand and snapped his fingers again.
Another blade plummeted from above—but it struck only an afterimage. Ryusei narrowed his eyes, shifting his perception. A subtle change in the wind. He pivoted and swung, but nothing was there.
Then—from behind—a spear flew straight at his back.
Or so it seemed.
With a snap of his fingers, a spear of his own fell from the sky, intercepting and shattering the one headed for him.
He turned. Vazrothvra stood a few feet away, spear in hand, charging an attack.
"Pistol," he said.
A projectile, faster than any bullet, ripped through the air toward Ryusei. He dodged right—another shot followed, then another.
He weaved through them, leaving ripples and waves in his wake. And before Vazrothvra could fire again, Ryusei countered—Black Hole.
The dark sphere raced toward Vazrothvra, undodgeable.
The giant tried moving right—only to find another Black Hole on the water's surface.
Ryusei had improved the technique, but who said he couldn't still use the original?
Checkmate.
Or so he thought.
Vazrothvra whispered, "Form: Speed."
In an instant, his massive frame shrank to match Ryusei's. With newfound agility, he veered left, narrowly avoiding the blast.
And right there—waiting for him—was Ryusei, his blade arcing toward Vazrothvra's neck.
Steel met steel—sparks flying.
Vazrothvra kicked at Ryusei's side, but Ryusei blocked with his arm, gritting his teeth.
"You've surprised me," Vazrothvra said. "Your skill, your adaptability—you're truly a worthy opponent."
Ryusei grinned. "You're making me blush... but I'm not done surprising you."
He snapped his fingers.
Vazrothvra's lips curled into a faint smile. "That goes for both of us."
Then he muttered, "Form: Defense."
A sword dropped from the sky and struck him square in the head—and shattered on impact.
Ryusei's eyes widened. He leapt back, disbelief in his voice. "You've got to be kidding me."
He hadn't expected this. If he were still the arrogant, snarky person he used to be, there'd be no way to win. Vazrothvra was truly The End.
But Ryusei had one more card to play.
"Iron Scales."
Three scales appeared in the air beside him, intercepting Vazrothvra's next attack and shattering his greatsword.
Without giving him time to react, Ryusei lunged for his neck—but his sword shattered the moment it connected.
They each picked up new weapons, clashing again—and again, the scales protected Ryusei, breaking Vazrothvra's blades. And the same happened when Ryusei struck—his blades shattering against Vazrothvra's defense.
This endless cycle continued—for three days and three nights.
They fought under the pale moonlight and beneath the harsh sun. Weapons broken and reborn. The waters littered with shattered steel.
Ryusei and Vazrothvra stood facing one another, breathing ragged, sweat dripping from their brows. Their magical energy nearly spent, bodies trembling from exhaustion.
One last strike. That was all they had left.
Ryusei snapped his fingers—one final blade descended from the sky, landing neatly in his waiting hand.
Vazrothvra grasped a nearby sword with both hands, raising it above his head. "Form: Attack."
Ryusei whispered, "Form: Destruction."
A red aura enveloped Vazrothvra's blade, while a deeper, darker aura coiled around Ryusei's.
They swung.
The two arcs of energy collided in the center—splitting the water behind them with a thunderous boom. But Ryusei's aura pushed through, overwhelming Vazrothvra's and rushing toward him.
Vazrothvra closed his eyes and smiled. "I had fun, Ryusei."
The wave washed over him—silent, powerful, gentle.
His body was swallowed by the light leaving behind only a small orb.
Ryusei walked toward it, his gentle steps sending ripples across the water's surface. With every step, the light that cloaked his body fractured, small cracks spreading like spiderwebs through the glow. By the time he reached the orb, the once radiant shell was barely holding together.
He knelt, reaching out with slow, deliberate hands, and picked up the orb resting quietly upon the water. Its faint glow pulsed in his palm—warm, familiar, like a fading heartbeat.
For a moment, he simply stared at it.
Before he looked up at the sky as the light around him began to shatter and fall away, revealing a handsome young man with flawless skin, deep blue eyes, and flowing pitch-black hair.
A single tear fell from his eye, rippling the water below as he whispered with a sad smile,
"I also had fun, Vazrothvra... my friend."
The two who began as enemies, then fought as sparring partners, and finally clashed as friends—would never meet again. But Ryusei would always remember him, not as a boss to defeat, but as a friend who could've been—if only fate had allowed it.
And so, Vazrothvra finally met his end—as one who had witnessed both the beginning and the end of time.