Onyx sensed Ferhill's attempt to stab his kidney, but instead of paling at the realization, he revealed a toothy smile. The rapier traveled at terrifying speeds, but it seemed Onyx was much faster.
His body moved like the wind, avoiding the rapier by simply twisting his torso. He then extended his foot, implanting it in Ferhill's chest.
"Gak!" A groan escaped Ferhill's lips as he quite literally folded, his chest caving in like the crumpling of paper. The smile never left Onyx's face as he watched Ferhill fly off into the distance, completely zoned out.
"You didn't seriously expect me to be slow, did you?" Onyx asked mockingly as he ran towards his foe, his greatsword in tow.
Interesting.
Despite his bulky body, Onyx had conditioned himself to utilize his explosive power to get sudden boosts in speed. It seemed Ferhill–who clearly specialized only in speed–had the disadvantage.
Ferhill gritted his teeth, running towards Onyx in a frenzy.
"It's futile," Onyx whispered, his voice sounding rather demonic. As the two collided yet again, Onyx reigned the victor for a second time. Ferhill continued his barrage of attacks, making use of his consistent speed.
However, it was clear who held the upper hand.
Onyx continued to block Ferhill's attacks using a mere flick of his wrist. The brute force allowed him to wield his greatsword as if it were a toy. As if in an attempt to tire him out, Onyx refused to attack his foe.
"Are you really the son of Garfield Ongs?" Onyx asked in a ridiculing tone, his eyes filled to the brim with arrogance and self-confidence. His wrist continued to move rapidly, successfully blocking every single attack Ferhill could muster.
On the other hand, Ferhill was inevitably getting more and more exhausted as time went by. He couldn't take it easy, as a single opportunity would allow Onyx to finish it off. If speed was Ferhill's only advantage, what he needed most was not to concede it.
A vein bulged on Ferhill's forehead as he heard Onyx's words.
I could understand how terrible it must feel for one's father to be mocked. But what Ferhill needed was to not lose concentration; to not lose his composure.
"Did he birth such a weakling of a son?" Onyx shouted, smiling devilishly. "I would be ashamed, of both my father and my lineage. I would spit on it."
Grit!
"Fucking hell. If I birthed such a son, I would kill myself and my son on the spot. What's the point in raising a disgrace such as yourself?"
Clench!
Ferhill's expression worsened. He scrunched his eyebrows, rage eating away at his composure.
My eyes remained on the battlefield. More than the fight itself, it was sometimes much more entertaining to listen to the banter, the mind games, and the provocations that enemies used to get an edge.
The most crucial part of a battle was one's composure, both under pain and provocation.
But then again.
There were always exceptions.
"You fucker!" Ferhill screamed, making use of his incredible speed to shoot forward. His acceleration sounded like a bullet, the ground underneath his feet shaking lightly as he pushed on it.
Now, the question was…
Would composure prevail…?
Or would it be rage…?
Onyx attempted to block Ferhill's swing, but the rapier acted like a slithery snake at the sight of the massive blade. The latter bent his knees, easily dodging the incoming greatsword before directing a slice at Onyx's throat.
This was no longer a spar. It was something beyond.
If this went on, both sides could sustain drastic injuries.
But Mr. Pate was not dissatisfied.
Instead, he seemed revolted they hadn't resorted to such tactics earlier.
A psycho was what he was.
Onyx's eyes widened as he detected the approaching threat. Suddenly, a glimmer of light shone in his pupils. He ducked under the rapier before swinging his leg, implanting a painful kick to Ferhill's shins.
A shrill scream escaped Ferhill's lips as he held in blood that begged to escape from his lips. Instead, he swung his fist, landing a punch square on Onyx's nose before following it up with a slice that narrowly missed the teen's internal organs.
But Onyx was not left unscathed.
A slight tear in his shirt and a tiny and shallow wound could be seen at his waist.
The two immediately backed away before inspecting their injuries. By what I saw, Onyx only had a shallow wound and a somewhat broken nose, while Ferhill had no injuries whatsoever, but a mountain of pain to deal with.
They weren't doing too bad.
As Onyx directed his gaze at his opponent, something changed. It was as if the metaphorical chains wrapped around his wrists shattered, allowing a surge of power to seep into his body. I felt the wind blow faster.
He was using Arcana.
Or rather, Aurora.
I cast a glimpse at Davis Pate, but as always, he remained still. Perhaps sensing my gaze, he turned to face me before mouthing, 'Let it be.'
I unconsciously nodded.
I sensed Onyx's body become as hard as rock and as tough as steel. His eyes glowed an amethyst hue, and his vascularity expanded almost immediately. With his eyes set on his foe, he pounced.
His shirt ripped into shreds as an amethyst aura swirled around the blade of his greatsword, providing him with a majestic appearance; the appearance of a mythical warrior.
So this was Aurora.
The physical and refined version of Arcana.
It was interesting.
I tried sensing the particles, trying to incorporate them into my own body. However, no matter how hard I tried, there was no result.
I simply let out a sigh.
As my eyes returned to the battle, I noticed Ferhill seemed to be 'changing,' too. Instead of Onyx's amethyst, an azure aura wrapped the teen and his rapier. Both with higher speed and strength than before, Onyx and Ferhill pounced like cheetahs at their prey.
But it was uncertain who the predator would be.