With the poison user finally down, a momentary silence fell over the battlefield. The toxic miasma began to fade, and Shawn took a much-needed breath. But even that breath carried weight—for in defeating one, he had incited the fury of the remaining two.
Their killing intent flared.
The air tightened again, heavier than before. Rage crackled in their aura like sparks before a blaze. Though Shawn had only lightly wounded them earlier, their pride had taken a direct blow.
"You..." The leader stepped forward, voice low and guttural. A wicked smile split his scarred face. "I was going to take you alive—knock you out, strap you up, and toss you over my shoulder like a bag of grain. But now... now you've earned something better."
His eyes glinted with a savage gleam, and his voice lowered to a sinister tone. "You took down my left hand. I'll admit—that was impressive. Almost admirable. Not many your age could've pulled that off. You must be from one of the major clans, right? Those brats raised from the crib with blood and steel in their mouths. Taught to kill before they learned to crawl. But even with all that training—"
He clenched his fists. A surge of crimson aura exploded from his body as the wound Shawn had dealt earlier began to seal rapidly, muscles knitting like rope, skin stretching over stone.
"—you made a mistake. You underestimated us."
The earth trembled as the leader began to change. His body expanded, muscles bulging grotesquely, bones shifting, growing. He roared as he crossed three meters in height, his feet cracking the soil beneath. Jagged rocks began to rise around him like loyal sentinels.
"I've been tempered in real battle," he growled. "I awoke my Vitral on the battlefield, in the middle of a warzone. I bathed in blood before I ever drank water. And now—"
His eyes burned. "—you'll be humbled."
Beside him, the lightning user's transformation was no less terrifying. His once-blue lightning turned a blinding white, dancing violently across his body. Every arc that touched the ground scorched it black, melting leaves and turning grass into ash.
Each step he took left glowing footprints in the earth.
Where the leader's footsteps brought quakes, the lightning user's brought ruin.
Shawn felt it.
The shift.
The calm before the storm had passed. Now, he stood in the eye of destruction.
Pressure mounted all around him like an invisible dome trying to crush his bones. But in that crushing weight, something stirred within him—not despair, but defiance.
He clenched his fists.
"I'm not done," he muttered through clenched teeth.
Drawing on his lifeblood, a powerful surge flooded his system. His aching muscles grew taut, his wounds sealed in flashes of red light, and the haze in his mind cleared. His energy returned in a rush of wind, and his spirit flared like a star refusing to dim.
I want to live.
I will live.
He closed his eyes briefly. "Ela, they're too much... What do I do?"
The spirit within his ring responded, calm but sharp. "Stone-head first. He's brute force and slower. Don't engage the lightning one yet—his lightning has evolved. That's white lightning, boy. Not just heat. That's almost plasma lightning. One wrong move and you'll be dust. Maybe two or three as it is not that strong but still, avoid him for now."
Shawn nodded, heart pounding but his gaze now resolute. He took a deep breath—and the temperature dropped.
The wind obeyed him.
A soft breeze whispered around his legs.
His eyes narrowed.
Time to move.
The lightning user struck first—threads of white lightning snapped through the air like vipers. But Shawn moved as if the world slowed for him. His senses, attuned to even the faintest changes in the wind, allowed him to detect the buildup in the atmosphere. The air shifted ever so slightly before each strike—and he reacted.
He weaved through the bolts like a phantom. Each dodge was razor-thin, his body slipping through death like a fish slithering through an open net. Sparks grazed his skin but didn't burn.
Then he struck.
Shawn spun mid-step and flicked his wrists—blades of compressed wind shot forward in a deadly arc, sharp enough to slice steel. They zipped toward the lightning user, aimed at forcing him to retreat or stumble.
But the man grinned.
With inhuman speed, the lightning user vanished.
Too fast!
Before Shawn could react, the enemy reappeared in front of him—arm cocked back, fist glowing with condensed lightning plasma. With a thunderous crack, he punched.
BOOM!
The impact was a miniature explosion.
Shawn's body flew like a ragdoll, crashing back-first into the bark of a massive tree. The trunk splintered behind him from the sheer force, and the air in his lungs fled with a gasp.
He dropped to one knee, coughing blood, his fingers clawing at the dirt.
His body screamed at him to stay down.
But his heart whispered something else.
"You... hit hard," Shawn coughed, slowly rising. "But I've taken worse."
He stared at the towering leader, who was now stomping forward, breaking branches and flattening the terrain with his mere presence. The ground trembled.
But Shawn stood his ground.
With wind swirling around his feet, and his spirit igniting once more, he clenched his fist and whispered—
"Let's dance, stone-head.
But the stone head was not alone. The lightning freak closed his eyes, his white lightning becoming brighter.
In a blink, Shawn was given a mighty blow on his stomach, the blow making him fly and hit the same bark of the mighty tree.
He coughed blood as he slid down the tree, his back screaming in pain. Sparks of lightning crackled on his clothes, still sizzling from the blow. His body felt heavy, but not broken. His bloodline pulsed, healing him rapidly—bones knitting, bruises fading, strength returning. Still, the blow had shaken him.
He glanced up. The lightning user stood with his arms crossed, white sparks crawling over his skin like angry spirits. Behind him, the towering leader was striding forward, each step quaking the earth and splitting the soil. It was like facing a living avalanche with a storm riding shotgun.
"This isn't just a fight..." Shawn muttered, wiping the blood from his mouth. "This is war."
The leader raised his arm. "Now, let me show you true despair!"
With a roar, boulders erupted from the ground, swirling in the air like meteors. The trees around them were uprooted as raw earth energy formed a dome around the battlefield. There would be no escape.
The lightning user vanished again, blinking through the air like a phantom. Shawn barely reacted in time, twisting mid-roll as a bolt of white lightning slammed into the ground where he had been. The impact left a crater, sizzling and blackened. The aftershock tossed him into the air.
Midair, Shawn's instincts kicked in. He summoned a cushion of wind, slowing his fall, and twisted to land on one knee. Another bolt came, but this time he was ready. A burst of compressed wind met it, dispersing the charge with a thunderclap.
"Ela, I can't take both of them at once!"
"I told you—go for the stone head! He's slower. Take him out before the lightning freak fries you!"
Shawn didn't hesitate. Wind whirled around his legs as he burst forward like a missile, heading straight for the leader. The ground cracked under his speed. His hand carved through the air, forming a wind spear that condensed until it shimmered like crystal.
The leader reacted with a roar, slamming his fists into the ground. Spikes of stone shot upward like deadly thorns. Shawn darted, twisted, slid under one, leaped over another. He weaved through the deadly terrain with inhuman grace.
Finally within range, he hurled the wind spear.
The leader raised his stone-covered arms and blocked—but the force was enough to make him stumble back.
Then Shawn was in the air above him.
He came down with both hands wielding a blade formed purely of compressed wind, honed sharp as a whisper. It collided with the leader's shoulder, cutting through stone armor and biting into flesh. Blood sprayed.
The leader howled and retaliated, swinging a colossal stone fist.
WHAM!
Shawn was thrown back again, skidding across the ground—but this time, he landed on his feet.
The lightning user moved again, a blur of death closing in—but Shawn was expecting it.
At the last second, he spun, wind forming a shield that deflected the incoming bolt.
"Not yet!" Shawn growled, turning his entire focus back to the leader.
He could see it now—the cracks forming in the earth warrior's defenses, the slow stagger of his stance. He was strong, but the injuries were piling up. His arrogance was costing him.
Shawn's body pulsed with wind. He focused all his spirit, all his will, and began compressing the air in front of him. The wind vibrated, whining like a banshee. A shape formed—long, curved, dangerous. A massive blade of wind, too large for a normal weapon, but light as air in his hands.
"This is your end," Shawn whispered, eyes cold.
He vanished from sight.
Even the leader didn't see it coming. One second he stood upright, preparing another ground quake. The next—
FWOOOSH—SLASH!
A single stroke.
Both legs—cleaved clean from the thighs. The wind blade passed through stone, muscle, and bone like a hot knife through butter.
There was silence.
Then a thud, as the massive rebel leader toppled like a felled tree, screaming in agony.
"AAAARGH!!! MY LEGS!!!"
Shawn stood a few meters behind, his wind blade slowly evaporating into the breeze. He exhaled, chest heaving.
The lightning user froze. His eyes darted between the writhing leader and Shawn, whose calm had returned, though his eyes glowed with untamed power.
"You're next," Shawn said coldly.
But inside, he was burning with exhaustion. Still—he was alive.
And the leader was down. Who knew if he was dead or alive.