The night had descended, and before Lloyd and his men stood twelve orcs and their dreaded leader - the orc lord. In this world, monsters were natural threats to humanity, but evolved monsters were something else entirely. When a monster evolved into a lord, it gained not only enhanced mana but also intelligence, allowing it to form tribes and coordinate attacks.
The orc lord raised its massive battle axe, pointing it toward Lloyd's group with a bone-chilling screech. Its subordinates began their slow advance, moving with unexpected coordination.
Lloyd stood lost in thought, his hand resting on his sword hilt. *Can I use requiem now? It won't work on the orc lord... it would only thin out the weak ones...*
"My lord, do we advance? The orcs are getting closer," one of the elites asked anxiously. The guards had formed a protective wall before Lloyd, with two standing at his sides.
Lloyd turned to the guard on his left. "What is your name?"
"My lord! It's Jon!" The guard's voice carried a mix of anxiety and pride.
"And you possess a skill, correct?" Lloyd's eyes narrowed with interest.
"Yes, my lord!" Jon straightened his posture. "My brother James and I both do. We're C-rank skill users - I have Fire Manipulation and he has Air Manipulation. We're both five-star mana users, but..." He hesitated, then added with determination, "We'll fight with everything we have!"
Lloyd nodded, impressed. "That's more than enough. Here's what we'll do - I'll create an opening. Use that chance to deal with the minions. I'll take the orc lord myself." He paused, then added, "In the next ten seconds, get everyone behind me."
The twins quickly mobilized the troops, clearing Lloyd's line of sight. Taking a deep breath, Lloyd assumed his stance, hands resting on his sheathed blade.
"Nine mysteries of the blade, chapter one." His voice cut through the night air. "Requiem."
In one fluid motion, he drew and resheathed his blade. A shockwave of pure force shot forward, cleaving through the air. The five orcs in the vanguard were instantly bisected, their massive bodies falling in perfect halves. The remaining seven suffered injuries, but the orc lord stood unmoved, the attack dispersing against its form like dust in the wind.
The guards' initial awe at Lloyd's display turned to terror as they witnessed the orc lord's immunity.
Lloyd's lips curved into a grim smile. "Keh heh heh... Now it wouldn't be any fun if you fell easily, would it?"
He launched himself toward the orc lord, who waited with anticipating malice. One of the injured orcs attempted to intercept Lloyd, but before he could adjust his charge, the orc lord itself moved. With frightening speed, it beheaded its own subordinate, the head hitting the ground with a dull thud. Then it pointed toward Lloyd's elite guard and released another commanding screech.
The remaining orcs immediately broke away from their leader, charging toward Lloyd's troops. Jon and James found themselves facing two particularly massive orcs, each one easily three times their size.
The first exchange was brutal. Jon attempted to close in with his blade, but the orc's reach proved longer. A massive fist caught him in the ribs, the impact lifting him off his feet. He crashed into the ground several yards away, coughing blood.
"Jon!" James rushed to defend his brother, but the second orc's axe swept in a wide arc. James barely managed to deflect it, but the force sent him stumbling backward, his arms trembling from the impact.
The twins regrouped, standing back-to-back as they faced their opponents. Blood trickled down Jon's chin, and James's right arm hung awkwardly – the last block had likely damaged something.
"Just like... just like training, right?" James wheezed, trying to smile despite his labored breathing.
"Worse," Jon spat blood. "At least during training, we could quit when we wanted."
The orcs charged again. This time, both brothers dodged, but the monsters' surprising speed caught them off guard. An axe blade caught James across his back – not deep, but enough to draw blood. Jon took a glancing blow to his shoulder that sent him spinning.
Stumbling to his feet, Jon looked at his brother. Their eyes met, and in that moment, something passed between them. Years of being overlooked, of being called the weak ones, of watching others advance while they struggled to keep up.
"Hey, James," Jon's voice was rough with pain. "Remember what father used to say?"
James parried another strike, nearly buckling under the force. "Which part? That we were disappointments?" He rolled away from a follow-up attack, wincing. "That we'd never make it as warriors?"
"All of it." Jon forced himself to stand straighter despite his screaming ribs. "Everyone gave up on us. Everyone except..."
"Except Armin," James finished, a new fire lighting in his eyes. "He was the only one who saw something in us."
Another orc attack sent them both diving in opposite directions. Jon crashed into a fallen shield, while James barely avoided being crushed by a massive foot.
"We're still here, brother," Jon called out, pushing himself up on shaking legs. "We're still fighting."
"Then let's show them," James planted his feet firmly, ignoring the blood running down his back. "Let's show them what the 'weak ones' can do!"
Jon nodded, gripping his sword tighter. "Something we've never tried before?"
"Something we've never tried before," James agreed. His voice grew stronger as he focused his remaining mana. "Mana Zone: Tempest Fields!"
The air around them began to vibrate, but differently than their usual techniques. This wasn't just wind – it was raw determination given form. Jon followed suit, channeling everything he had left into his blade.
"Mana Boost: Sword of Flame!"
His blade didn't just glow – it screamed with the heat of their resolve, the metal itself seeming to dissolve and reform as pure flame.
As James called forth his Mana Zone: Tempest Fields, the very nature of mana in the area transformed. Mana Zones were one of the highest forms of mana manipulation - not just using mana, but claiming dominion over it within a defined space. Within a Mana Zone, all mana, whether ambient or actively used, bent to the caster's will. The air itself became James's domain, every breeze and current answering to his command.
The Tempest Fields manifested as a sphere of influence roughly thirty feet in diameter, visible only as a slight distortion in the air, like heat waves rising from summer ground. Within this zone, James's affinity for wind was amplified exponentially. More than that, he could feel everything that moved through his domain - each shift in air pressure, every displacement of wind.
For most mages, creating a Mana Zone meant sacrificing mobility for power, anchoring themselves to maintain control over their domain. But James, pushed beyond his limits, achieved something different. His Tempest Fields moved with him, the domain flowing like liquid air around both himself and his brother.
Meanwhile, Jon's Mana Boost represented the other path of advanced mana manipulation - rather than expanding outward to control an area, it concentrated inward to enhance a single point to its absolute limit. As he channeled Mana Boost into his blade, the steel itself began to transform. Unlike normal fire manipulation that would simply wreath a weapon in flames, Mana Boost: Sword of Flame literally converted the physical sword into pure elemental energy.
The process was dangerous - one slip in concentration would mean losing control of the concentrated mana, likely resulting in an explosion that would consume the user. But when mastered, it allowed for attacks that transcended physical limitations. Jon's flame sword didn't just cut - it existed in a state between solid and energy, capable of both slicing like a blade and burning like an inferno.
When the twins' techniques synchronized, something unprecedented occurred. Within James's Mana Zone, the amplified wind mana began feeding into Jon's Mana Boost. The flame sword grew larger, burning hotter, while maintaining its perfect control thanks to the regulated mana environment of the Tempest Fields. The air within the zone grew heavy with power, creating visible mana currents that spiraled around the brothers.
This was the true potential of these advanced techniques - not just their individual power, but their ability to resonate and amplify each other. James's Mana Zone didn't just enhance his own wind abilities; it created an environment where all friendly mana techniques could be amplified. Jon's Mana Boost didn't just empower his blade; it created a focal point where the zone's ambient mana could be concentrated into devastating attacks.
As they moved through the Tempest Fields, each step took them exactly where they needed to be. The zone's enhanced air pressure created paths of least resistance - natural tunnels through space that allowed for what appeared to be instantaneous movement. Combined with Jon's flame sword, now burning white-hot with concentrated mana, they achieved a level of combat prowess that seemed to defy logic.
Yet the cost was immense. Maintaining a Mana Zone strained the user's mana circuits, while Mana Boost constantly threatened to overwhelm its wielder's control. Using both techniques at their limits, while injured and exhausted, meant the twins were literally burning through their remaining life force to maintain their power.
One moment Jon was beneath the orc's club, the next he appeared above it, his flame sword leaving a burning arc through the night air. The orc's arm fell, severed at the shoulder, its wound cauterized instantly by the blade's heat.
The second orc swung at James, but the wind itself caught the axe, holding it for a crucial second. James, moving through his own wind tunnel, appeared behind the monster. Unable to use his right arm, he had switched his sword to his left, channeling the Tempest Field's power through the blade. The cut wasn't deep, but the compressed air that followed sliced through the orc's hamstring.
Both orcs, wounded but far from defeated, roared in fury. They attacked with renewed savagery, their movements becoming faster, more desperate. Jon took a glancing blow to his already injured ribs, feeling them shatter completely. James was caught by a backhand that sent him careening into his brother, both of them sprawling in the mud.
But they rose again.
"Together!" they shouted in unison.
James created a funnel of wind that lifted them both into the air. Jon's flame sword expanded, feeding on his brother's wind, growing into a colossal blade of fire. They descended like a meteor, James's wind accelerating their fall while Jon's flame sword led the way.
The orcs looked up, raising their weapons in defense. But the twins' combined attack sheared through the crude weapons and continued down, splitting both monsters from crown to sternum. The creatures fell in four perfect halves, steam rising from their cauterized remains.
The twins collapsed, their mana completely depleted. Jon coughed blood onto the ground while James couldn't even feel his right side anymore. But their eyes shone with triumph as they watched their fellow guards engage the remaining orcs.
Lloyd had witnessed it all, a grim smile playing across his face as he turned his full attention to the orc lord. The monster towered before him, its battle axe larger than a man was tall, muscles rippling with barely contained power.
"Impressive display," Lloyd murmured, rotating his ancient blade to catch the moonlight. "Now, let me show you what a true blade art looks like."
Lloyd stood before the orc lord, studying his opponent with experienced eyes. The monster was a masterpiece of evolution - fourteen feet of corded muscle, its gray-green skin bearing scars that told of countless battles survived. Its battle axe, crude but massive, hummed with an unusual resonance that spoke of mana enhancement.
"They never tell you this in the stories," Lloyd mused, shifting his grip on his ancient blade. "Monster lords don't just gain intelligence - they gain wisdom. Each scar on your body, each battle survived..." He raised his sword in salute. "You've learned from them all, haven't you?"
The orc lord's yellow eyes flickered with cruel understanding. It responded by taking a stance that made Lloyd's eyes narrow - not the wild posture of a berserker, but something refined, practiced.
"My blade - Orenmir, carries two gifts," Lloyd continued, his voice low enough that only his opponent could hear. "One creates wounds that never heal - a curse that defies even your kind's remarkable regeneration. The other..." He smiled grimly. "Well, let's hope we don't need to discover that today."
The orc lord moved first, covering the distance between them with frightening speed. Its axe came in a diagonal sweep that would have cleaved a lesser warrior in half. Lloyd pivoted, letting the blade pass within inches of his chest. The backswing came faster than the first strike - the orc lord was testing him, measuring his speed.
Lloyd deflected the second strike with his blade's flat, sending sparks cascading through the night air. The impact traveled through his arms like lightning, confirming his suspicion. "You're channeling mana through that axe," he noted. "Crude, but effective. The vibrations multiply your striking power."
The orc lord's response was a series of quick chops, each one flowing into the next. Lloyd weaved through them, his footwork precise, but he wasn't just dodging - he was reading the pattern, studying how the monster's mana flowed through its weapon.
A particularly vicious overhead strike forced Lloyd to sidestep rather than block. The axe hit the ground, cratering the earth and sending shockwaves that staggered nearby fighters. Lloyd used the moment to launch his first real attack - a thrust aimed at the orc's extended arm.
The monster's reaction surprised him. It dropped its shoulder, letting the sword scrape along its thick hide while simultaneously driving its elbow toward Lloyd's face. Lloyd barely managed to retract his blade and leap backward, earning only a grazing blow that still made his vision blur.
"Not just strong," Lloyd spat blood from his split lip. "You're a proper warrior. Been a while since I've faced one of those."
The battle escalated. Lloyd began mixing in techniques from the Nine Mysteries of the Blade - quick, precise strikes that targeted joints and vital points. The orc lord matched him with brutal efficiency, its axe always where it needed to be, its footwork never faltering despite its massive size.
Lloyd scored first blood - a shallow cut along the orc's thigh. The wound smoked slightly, refusing to close, but the orc lord seemed to barely notice. Its counterattack drove Lloyd back step by step, each impact threatening to tear his muscles apart.
"The Northern War," Lloyd spoke between breaths, parrying another earth-shattering blow. "Their warlords fought like you. All power, all skill, but ultimately..." He had to dive into a roll as the axe whistled overhead. "Ultimately predictable."
The orc lord's eyes narrowed. Its next attack wasn't a strike but a feint, transitioning into a shoulder charge that caught Lloyd off-guard. The impact sent him sliding backward, his boots leaving furrows in the earth. Before he could fully recover, the monster's fist caught him in the ribs. The crack was audible across the battlefield.
Lloyd stumbled, his back nearly touching the fortress wall. Pain lanced through his chest with every breath. Around them, the sounds of battle had dimmed - both armies watching their leaders' duel.
"My lord!" Several guards moved to assist, but Lloyd's voice cracked like thunder.
"Stay back!" He straightened despite his injuries, eyes blazing. "You know, beast, your technique reminds me of someone. The Northern warlords fought just like this - all overwhelming power mixed with surprising finesse." A dangerous smile crossed his face. "Would you like to see how that duel ended?"
The orc lord seemed to sense the shift in Lloyd's demeanor. It pressed forward with renewed fury, determined to end the fight before whatever technique Lloyd was preparing could manifest. Its axe became a blur, attacks coming from every angle.
Lloyd moved differently now. Each defensive motion flowed into the next, his sword trailing patterns of light through the air. He was no longer just defending - he was drawing a diagram with his blade, using the orc's own attacks to complete the pattern.
"Second chapter of the Nine Mysteries," Lloyd's voice carried across the battlefield as he assumed a stance entirely new - blade held at an angle that caught the starlight like liquid silver. "Full Moon Slash."
The orc lord recognized the danger too late. It lunged forward with everything it had, betting that Lloyd's injured state would make him falter. But Lloyd had been waiting for exactly this moment, this exact position.
White lines of pure force materialized around the orc lord in a perfect circle. For a fraction of a second, the battlefield was silent. Then reality seemed to bend.
The orc lord's charge halted mid-step. Its body separated into perfectly symmetrical pieces, each cut so clean it took several seconds for the sections to fall apart. There was no blood - the energy of the technique had cauterized the wounds instantly.
Lloyd remained in his final stance for a moment longer, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Then, with the last of his strength, he raised his sword skyward.
"FOR BRIAR!"
The rising sun caught his blade, sending rays of light across the battlefield where his men stood victorious over the fallen orcs. The eleven-hour nightmare had finally ended.