Chapter 171: Fist and Blade
The battlefield roared with chaos. Screams and shouts rang through the air, the clang of steel and pulse of mana crashing together in a deadly symphony. Knights and Aquarians clashed across the burning streets, but at the center of it all — two giants stood face to face.
King Thalanor, the blade of the South.General Delrat, the Fist of the Aquarians.
They said nothing for a moment. Just stared, eyes locked in quiet understanding — warriors recognizing warriors.
Delrat's long shadow stretched under the blue glow of his unique mana, a cold, violent shade that pulsed like crashing waves. Thalanor held his sword steady, resting it over one shoulder as his long silver hair flowed in the wind, the tip of his blade humming with stored energy.
Thalanor (smirking):"You're no ordinary soldier."
Delrat raised a brow.
Delrat (calmly):"Neither are you. I can feel it… Your sword has bathed in blood long before today."
Thalanor:"And yours — your fists have broken men far stronger than your rank suggests."
A beat. Then the King's voice grew sharper.
Thalanor:"Your mana… it's different. That blue—almost crystalline. Why is it unlike the rest?"
Delrat's smirk faltered into a solemn frown. He clenched his fists, and his mana surged around him like an ocean storm.
Delrat:"A mutation. Rare even among us. I retained my human core when I turned. It didn't collapse like the others. Instead, it… adapted."
He flexed his fingers, and blue lightning snapped between them like crackling ropes.
Delrat:"It makes me stronger. Purer. Deadlier."
Thalanor chuckled under his breath, the sound low and full of fire.
Thalanor:"Heh. Perfect. I've been saving something special… for someone just like you."
And with that, they launched forward.
BOOM!
The collision cracked the earth beneath them. Thalanor's blade swept in a clean arc, lightning-fast. Delrat ducked and responded with a brutal punch to the ribs. Thalanor twisted, avoiding the full blow, but the shockwave still sent him skidding across the stone.
Thalanor stopped himself mid-slide and immediately dashed back in. He slashed at Delrat's side — a feint. The Aquarian blocked, and Thalanor spun to his other side, delivering a precise cut across Delrat's shoulder.
Delrat (gritting his teeth):"Your blade sings."
Thalanor:"And your fists rumble."
The fight was brutal, clean, and filled with elegance and carnage all the same.
Delrat launched into the air, spinning as his mana condensed around him. With a thunderous roar, he shouted:
Delrat:"LUNAR PIERCE!"
A massive, star-shaped blast of blue mana surged toward Thalanor. It ripped through the battlefield, a glowing comet of destruction.
Thalanor didn't move.
Instead, he closed his eyes.
The world slowed.
He exhaled.
Thalanor (whispering):"Kenjutsu... Tenth Form."
He opened his eyes and moved.
His blade glowed gold for a single heartbeat as he slashed horizontally — a perfect, crisp motion. The Lunar Pierce split down the middle, divided cleanly in two, exploding harmlessly behind him.
Dust and wind swallowed the battlefield.
Delrat landed, stunned. He hadn't even seen the movement.
Thalanor held his sword up, resting it again on his shoulder. He rolled his neck.
Thalanor:"You said you were deadly. Let me be honest — you're exhilarating."
Delrat's lips twitched. A grin. His fists tightened.
Delrat:"Then let me give you something even more fun."
He punched the ground, causing the earth to split in a violent tremor. Debris shot into the air, and from the chaos Delrat lunged at Thalanor again. He was faster now, fighting with pure instinct.
Thalanor's eyes lit up.
Flashback…
A dimly lit chamber beneath the South Nation's castle. Thalanor, shirtless, drenched in sweat, his blade sheathed beside him. He stood before a floating candle. Its flame swayed with each breath he took.
Thalanor (muttering):"A technique with mana as the pulse… and will as the blade."
He raised his sword, holding it tight.
Thalanor:"Kenjutsu: Final Requiem."
He slashed forward, and the entire candle chamber ignited with radiant mana.
Back to Present…
Thalanor took a deep breath, still holding back. He blocked Delrat's punches with the flat of his sword, but his armor was starting to crack.
Thalanor (growling):"I hate fighting in this thing."
With a single movement, he cast off his chestplate — it hit the ground with a thud, kicking up dust.
Now bare-chested, his torso bore old scars, proof of wars fought and survived.
Delrat blinked. Then grinned savagely.
Delrat:"You're insane."
Thalanor (grinning):"No. I'm a swordsman."
And then they clashed again — steel against flesh, blade against bone.
Their battle wasn't just physical — it was spiritual. Two ideals slamming against each other, louder than any war cry.