The dark forest is filled with energy as spirits swarm around Matteo, their ethereal forms shimmering in the dim light. The air hums with tension as they rush toward him, weapons raised, eyes burning with malice. Matteo stands firm, his hand gripping the hilt of the Blackwood family sword, its ancient power thrumming under his fingers. His face remains calm, almost bored, as the first wave of spirits lunges at him.
With a single swift motion, Matteo brings the blade down, slicing through the air with precision. The closest spirit disintegrates instantly, its form unraveling into wisps of dark energy. The next two meet a similar fate as Matteo twirls the blade effortlessly, cutting them down before they can even reach him.
"Is this all you have?" Matteo mutters, barely exerting himself.
More spirits attack, flanking him from every side, but Matteo moves like a whirlwind. His strikes are sharp, deliberate, and devastating. Each movement flows into the next, as if he is dancing through the battlefield, his sword singing with deadly grace. Spirits that come too close are struck down in the blink of an eye, their energy dissipating into the night.
In the distance, Spirit King Kuroshin watches, his glowing eyes narrowing as Matteo dispatches his minions with ease. His lieutenants—Ignis, Goliath, and the remaining spirits—stand in stunned silence, their fear of Matteo's power creeping in. Kuroshin's lips curl into a smirk.
"Enough!" Kuroshin's voice echoes like thunder, reverberating through the forest. The spirits immediately halt their assault, retreating to form a circle around Matteo. "You are all weak compared to him," Kuroshin declares, stepping forward, his dark aura expanding.
Matteo turns to face the Spirit King, his expression unreadable, but his grip tightens on his sword. Kuroshin stands tall, his obsidian armor gleaming under the faint light of the moon, his presence commanding, yet eerily composed. His long black cloak billows behind him as his eyes—dark and cold—lock onto Matteo.
"You've fought well, human," Kuroshin says, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "But now... you'll face a real challenge."
Matteo raises his sword, prepared for what is coming. "I'm not afraid of you, Kuroshin," he says, his tone steady.
Kuroshin chuckles, a deep, menacing sound. "You should be."
With blinding speed, Kuroshin lunges forward, his movements far too swift for his massive frame. His fighting style is surprisingly graceful—fluid and precise—belying his intimidating appearance. His long, jagged sword slices through the air, aimed directly at Matteo's chest. But Matteo, quick on his feet, sidesteps the attack and retaliates with a fierce slash of his own.
Steel meets steel with a deafening clash. Sparks fly as the two titans collide, their weapons locked in a deadly embrace. Kuroshin's strength is immense, the force of his strike nearly pushing Matteo back. But Matteo holds his ground, his eyes narrowing in focus.
The battle intensifies.
Kuroshin moves with brutal elegance, his swordsmanship refined despite his towering size. He combines strength and agility in a way that is almost impossible for a being of his stature. His strikes are a blend of wide sweeping arcs and quick, precise thrusts, keeping Matteo on the defensive. He twirls and spins with unexpected grace, his footwork light, as if he is gliding across the battlefield.
But Matteo is not easily overwhelmed.
With each of Kuroshin's heavy blows, Matteo counters with expert precision. His movements are calculated, his strikes sharp and deadly. He ducks under Kuroshin's wide arcs, sidesteps his deadly thrusts, and retaliates with powerful slashes aimed at the Spirit King's vulnerable points. The Blackwood sword glows with ancient power, its edge cutting through Kuroshin's armor, leaving deep gashes.
Kuroshin snarls, a mixture of pain and rage flashing in his eyes as he recoils from Matteo's onslaught. "You are strong, human," Kuroshin spits, his voice laced with fury. "But you will fall."
He charges again, his blade spinning in a flurry of strikes, but Matteo parries each attack with remarkable skill. In a sudden, fluid motion, Matteo sidesteps another heavy blow from Kuroshin and delivers a devastating slash across the Spirit King's chest, sending him stumbling backward.
Kuroshin growls in pain, clutching the wound as dark energy spills from his armor. He glares at Matteo, his fury growing. "You will regret this…"
Matteo's expression remains stoic, his sword raised and ready. "You talk too much."
With a roar, Kuroshin unleashes a barrage of dark energy from his sword, waves of destructive power rippling toward Matteo. But Matteo stands firm, raising his sword to absorb the impact. The Blackwood sword gleams as it slices through the energy, nullifying the attack.
Now, Matteo presses the advantage.
He moves in swiftly, delivering a series of powerful strikes that leave Kuroshin struggling to defend. Matteo's swordsmanship is unmatched—his blade moves faster, strikes harder, until finally, with a mighty swing, he knocks Kuroshin's sword from his grasp.
Kuroshin staggers back, disarmed, his chest heaving with exertion. His lieutenants watch in disbelief as their powerful king stands on the brink of defeat.
Matteo points his sword at Kuroshin, his eyes cold. "This ends now."
Kuroshin snarls, dark energy swirling around him. "It's not over yet, human!" He raises his hands, summoning a massive wave of shadow to engulf Matteo.
But Matteo, undeterred, slices through the darkness with a single powerful swing of his sword, cutting the wave in two. Before Kuroshin can react, Matteo closes the distance between them and plunges his sword deep into the Spirit King's chest.
Meanwhile...
Ren's chest heaves as he darts around the battlefield, narrowly dodging the devastating blows from Torrath's massive warhammer, Earthshatter. Each swing from the towering spirit sends shockwaves through the ground, but Ren's speed is unmatched. His feet barely touch the earth as he weaves in and out, evading every crushing strike with precise movements.
Torrath roars in frustration, his fiery orange eyes blazing as his massive granite fists tighten around the warhammer. "Stand still, you coward!" he bellows, swinging Earthshatter in a wide arc that sends dirt and debris flying in all directions. But Ren is too fast, his body a blur as he dashes out of range, leaving Torrath's blow to slam harmlessly into the ground.
Ren's mind races as he keeps his distance, narrowly avoiding another deadly swing. I can't keep this up forever, he thinks, his breath coming in short bursts. I need to find a way to increase my attack power, or I'll never take him down.
Torrath is too strong to face head-on—his skin is as tough as stone, and his brute strength could pulverize Ren in a single blow if he gets too close. But Ren has something Torrath doesn't—his speed. And maybe, just maybe, that will be enough.
Ren pauses for a moment, assessing the situation. Speed isn't enough, he realizes, watching Torrath swing wildly at empty air. I'm fast enough to dodge his attacks, but my strikes aren't strong enough to do real damage.
His mind works quickly, recalling the lessons from his soccer training—how to channel energy into a single, focused strike. If I can harness all my momentum into one point... I can amplify my attack power. A plan begins to form in his mind, one that could end the fight quickly.
He takes a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he focuses on Torrath, who is recovering from another missed swing. I'll need to hit him three times in quick succession, Ren thinks, his heart pounding. Three powerful strikes... all at his weak spots.
With newfound determination, Ren leaps back into action. He darts to the side, circling Torrath at a dizzying speed. Torrath snarls, his granite face twisting in rage as he tries to track Ren's movements. But Ren is faster now—his mind clear, his goal set.
He needs to strike hard and fast.
Ren surges forward, his body a blur as he approaches Torrath from the left. Using all his speed and momentum, he aims for the first weak spot—Torrath's right knee. Ren's foot connects with the spirit's stone-like skin with explosive force, the impact sending a shockwave through Torrath's body. Torrath grunts, his leg buckling slightly as he stumbles back, momentarily thrown off balance.
One down.
Ren doesn't give him time to recover. He spins around, moving with lightning speed to Torrath's other side. This time, he aims higher—at the exposed side of Torrath's ribs. With a powerful leap, Ren drives his foot into Torrath's side, delivering a crushing blow that cracks the granite skin beneath. Torrath lets out a howl of pain, his massive body twisting in agony.
Two.
Ren knows he has to finish it now. He channels every ounce of strength he has left, sprinting forward for the final blow. As Torrath staggers from the second strike, Ren sees his opening—the back of Torrath's neck, where the stone is thinner, more vulnerable.
With a final burst of speed, Ren launches himself into the air, twisting his body mid-jump as he brings his leg down in a powerful overhead kick. His foot connects with the back of Torrath's neck with bone-shattering force. The impact echoes through the clearing as Torrath's massive form crumples under the blow.
Three.
Torrath lets out a guttural roar as he falls to his knees, Earthshatter slipping from his grasp and crashing to the ground with a heavy thud. His fiery orange eyes flicker, the light dimming as the power in his body fades. For a moment, he tries to rise, but Ren's final strike has been too much. With a deep, rumbling growl, Torrath's massive body collapses to the ground, motionless.
Ren lands gracefully, his chest heaving as he stands over the defeated spirit. His body aches from the exertion, but a triumphant smile spreads across his face. He has done it. He has taken down Torrath.
Breathing heavily, Ren looks at the fallen spirit, then back toward Zara and Sofia, who watch in stunned silence.
"It's over," Ren mutters, his voice steady but exhausted. "He's finished."