Zola's black eyes glowed even more menacingly, and dark mana erupted from him like a volcano, reaching high into the sky and casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield. His energy filled every corner of the forest, thickening the air with a suffocating pressure. Marcel's heart raced as he sensed the sheer magnitude of Zola's power. Without hesitation, he poured every last ounce of mana into his enchanted sword.
Marcel's sword, much like the king's armor, was a rare enchanted item. The king's armor amplified his strength tenfold, compensating for his lack of natural mana, while Marcel's sword was capable of multiplying his magical and physical abilities exponentially. Up until now, Marcel had only drawn upon half of the sword's power, but now, facing an opponent of this caliber, he pushed it to the full limit, drawing every last ounce of strength the sword could offer.
As Marcel's mana surged, his body strained under the weight of the sword's power. His muscles trembled, veins bulging painfully against his skin, and he spat out a mouthful of blood from the intense strain. Zola sneered, watching Marcel struggle, and his voice dripped with contempt. "All that effort just to keep up with me? How shameless. Let me show you what it truly means to be one of the Cataclysms."
With a twisted grin, Zola unleashed even more mana, doubling his already monstrous output. The battlefield trembled under the weight of his dark energy, the very ground cracking and splintering from the pressure. Trees around them began to wither and collapse, leaves disintegrating into ash as Zola's mana spread. The king and Marcel stared in shock, both overwhelmed by the sheer scale of his power. Zola's aura swallowed the battlefield whole, and even Alonso and Bola, standing nearby, felt their bodies engulfed by the oppressive energy.
Bola, watching from the sidelines with a smug smile, muttered to himself, "Looks like I might not need to lift a finger after all."
Marcel's hands shook as he gripped his sword, yet his resolve remained unbroken. He could feel the weight of Zola's power bearing down on him, yet he refused to back down. With a defiant cry, he raised his sword vertically, channeling every last shred of his mana into its blade. His soothing green mana clashed violently against Zola's dark, sinister mana, like two tsunamis colliding, each vying for dominance. The entire battlefield was saturated with their opposing forces, swirling in a chaotic storm of green and black.
"Royal Liberty!" Marcel roared, slashing his sword forward and unleashing a massive wave of pure green mana toward Zola. The green slash tore through the air with blinding speed, a concentrated surge of energy aimed straight at his enemy.
Zola, unperturbed, raised his hand, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "X-Burna." With a flick of his wrist, an enormous X-shaped pillar of flames erupted from his hand, stretching high above the treetops and lighting up the entire forest. The fiery X was massive, stretching toward the heavens, and its heat scorched everything in its path. Marcel's green slash looked like nothing more than a pebble before a tidal wave as it collided with Zola's flames and was instantly vaporized, swallowed whole by the inferno.
The X-cross flames hurtled toward Marcel with terrifying speed. Despite his fear, Marcel's courage didn't waver. Planting his feet firmly, he took the attack head-on, his entire being straining as he tried to hold back the massive pillar of fire. The flames roared against him, the heat intense enough to burn the earth around him to ash. Marcel's sword glowed brighter as he fought to hold the attack at bay, their powers locked in a deadly battle of force against force.
As Marcel braced against the overwhelming force of the X-cross flames, the intense heat licked at his exposed skin, searing his hands and face. His armor, crafted from rare Stardust Steel, shielded much of his body, but the exposed areas burned under the relentless blaze. Gritting his teeth, Marcel pushed forward, his every muscle straining, his heart pounding with the sheer desperation of the moment.
With a roar that echoed across the battlefield, Marcel gathered the last of his strength, using his sword to deflect the massive pillar of flames upward. The X-cross flames shot into the sky and detonated with a blinding explosion, lighting up the forest in a flash of fiery brilliance. Marcel staggered, his body trembling, his breath ragged. Burns covered his arms and face, and every nerve screamed in pain. He was battered, nearly spent, but he took no notice. The king was safe, and that was all that mattered.
Bola watched Marcel's efforts with a bemused smile, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Oh, well done, human. Deflecting that was impressive, truly… but look at you," he sneered, gesturing to Marcel's battered form. "You're barely standing. You can't even fight back." He turned to Alonso with a look of feigned concern. "Isn't he supposed to be your ally? And here you are, just standing by, watching him struggle."
Alonso leaned against a nearby tree, his tone light, almost bored. "I can't interfere between a man and his duty. Can't you see how determined he is?" he replied, unfazed.
Bola's sneer deepened, his voice dripping with scorn. "You're a cold one. It almost seems you're enjoying his suffering."
Alonso arched a brow, his voice cool. "Please. I'm not a sadist like you. Don't lump me in with your kind," he said, crossing his arms. "But while you're here, I have a few questions, demon."
Bola's eyes flashed with irritation. "The name's Bola. Learn it well, for it'll be the name of the one who kills you."
Alonso gave a faint smirk. "Since you're so kind to introduce yourself, I suppose it's only fair. My name is Alonso."
Their conversation was abruptly cut short as Zola summoned a massive fireball, its fierce light casting long shadows across the battlefield. The blazing orb grew in intensity, illuminating Zola's face twisted in wicked delight. "Time to end this," he snarled. With a flicker of dark mana, he teleported right in front of Marcel and launched the fireball at point-blank range.
The explosion was deafening, shaking the earth beneath their feet and sending plumes of dust and dirt into the air. A mushroom cloud rose from the impact, and as the dust settled, Marcel lay sprawled in a newly-formed crater, his armor battered, blood streaked across his body, burns covering his skin. He was still breathing but only barely, every breath labored.
Zola sauntered over to Marcel's prone form, a cruel laugh rumbling from his chest. "Ha! Still alive, are you? What a useless man. You can't even protect your king. You should've taken our offer when you had the chance. Now, you'll die for your misguided loyalty. To him, you're nothing but a tool, expendable and forgotten. Is that worth your life?"
Marcel, bloodied and bruised, struggled to push himself to his knees, his entire body screaming in agony. But his eyes, filled with defiance, locked onto Zola's. "You… don't know… the king like I do," he spat, blood dripping from his mouth. His voice, though weakened, held an unbreakable resolve. "His Majesty is a man who loves his people, who'd give his life for them if he could. That's why I will give everything to protect him!"
With a shout, Marcel poured what little mana he had left into his sword, the blade trembling with energy as he stood, battered yet unbroken. He raised his sword, pointing it at Zola in a determined thrusting stance. As he began to charge, his sword ignited with a blinding white light, illuminating the forest in a brilliant glow that rivaled Zola's dark mana.
From a distance, the king watched, a tear sliding down his cheek. His heart clenched as he looked upon his loyal friend, a man willing to sacrifice everything for him, even as his own strength faded. "Marcel…" he murmured, overcome with both pride and sorrow.
Marcel channeled the last of his mana into his feet, launching himself forward in a desperate, blinding burst of speed. White light trailed behind him as he closed the gap in an instant, his sword aimed like a spear. With a final, determined push, Marcel drove his blade through Zola's chest, pinning him to a nearby tree.
Zola laughed, unaffected. "Have you forgotten?" he sneered. "I can regenerate." But as he looked down, he noticed the light radiating from Marcel's sword was growing, its energy infiltrating his body. Zola's grin faded, panic creeping into his expression. "Oi, oi—get this thing off me!"
Marcel's eyes, burning with fierce determination, locked onto Zola's. "This is my final attack. I've overcharged the sword—it's going to self-destruct, and take you with it." His voice was steady, unwavering. "This blade was crafted by Zero herself. It has a built-in fail-safe, a last-ditch effort. I can trigger the embedded S-rank mana stone to explode on command. And in case you didn't know… it's a light-elemental mana stone. Imagine what it'll do to you."
Zola's face twisted in horror as he struggled against the sword impaling him, the glow of the mana stone inside intensifying. "Oi! Get this off me, you worthless bastard!"
A blinding pillar of light erupted from the sword, shooting into the sky and illuminating the battlefield like a second sun. The sheer brightness forced Bola to shield his eyes, his face flickering with unexpected concern as he watched his companion engulfed by the light.
When the brilliance faded, Zola lay crumpled on the ground, his body scorched and smoking. His left leg was gone, his arms were reduced to charred stumps, and burns covered his entire body. He took shallow, ragged breaths, barely clinging to life. Marcel stumbled forward, exhausted, muttering, "Just one more strike… just one more would finish him." But his strength gave out, and he collapsed, his body succumbing to the damage he had endured.
The king's expression hardened as he watched Zola's mangled form slowly regenerate. Flesh and bone reformed, the burns receded, and within moments, Zola stood up again, as good as new, rage simmering in his eyes. He clenched his fists, dark mana swirling around him as he glared at Marcel's unconscious form, battered and broken. "Get lost, you pathetic waste of flesh," he hissed, channeling mana into his hand. "I'll make sure your king joins you."
The king looked on, heartbroken and furious, his fists clenched as he watched his loyal guard lying on the ground, defenseless. He swallowed back the urge to cry, helplessly watching Zola prepare to finish Marcel off.
Just as Zola summoned a fireball, ready to launch it at Marcel, a fiery blur shot through the air, slamming into Zola's stomach with crushing force. Zola's eyes widened, a choked gasp escaping him as he was hurled backward, crashing through several trees before finally skidding to a halt.
Hovering in the air, fire trailing from his feet, was Alonso, his eyes cold and piercing, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It was clear he'd used the flames to propel himself, moving so quickly that even Bola hadn't had time to react.
Alonso hovered above, his fiery aura casting a menacing glow as he looked down on zola. "Don't forget about me," he said with a taunting grin. "The fun's just getting started."
Bola, noticing Alonso had left him unchecked, bristled with fury. "How dare you ignore me!" he roared, channeling mana into his fists and forming concentrated orbs of wind. With a snarl, he began hurling the wind balls at Alonso, each blast slicing through the air with deadly precision.
Yet Alonso's newfound abilities as an Aethrfrost Oni made him far more than his opponents realized. His eyes—now an evolved blend of organic and cybernetic precision—could see every movement with perfect clarity. He could calculate not only the amount of mana being channeled by his opponents but also the exact velocity and trajectory of each attack, almost predicting them before they happened. His body, strengthened to mythical levels, moved with effortless grace and speed, and as Bola's attacks came at him, Alonso simply swayed left and right, dodging the wind balls with casual ease.
Laughing as he dodged the attacks, Alonso taunted, "See, Bola? I only used fire on that sharp-toothed friend of yours." His tone was playful, almost mocking.
Just then, Zola attempted a sneak attack from behind. Flames wreathed his hand, shaping into a deadly claw as he reached for Alonso's neck. But Alonso, having anticipated Zola's approach, used the flames at his feet to propel himself, twisting around just in time to catch Zola's wrist in a firm grip before the clawed hand could reach his face.
"Aww, you interrupted me," Alonso said with a smirk, locking eyes with Zola, who was visibly straining against his hold. "I was just telling your friend here that I'll only use fire against you, and wind against him. You're lucky I keep my promises."
Zola gritted his teeth, frustration flashing in his eyes as he struggled to free himself. Then, suddenly, he chuckled darkly, his voice low and menacing. "In all my years, I've never met anyone as arrogant as you. Keep holding on, fool—I'll turn you to ash!" He began channeling mana into his restrained hand, flames roaring to life as he aimed a fireball directly at Alonso's face.
But then, something unexpected happened. Just as Zola's flames ignited, Alonso's free hand suddenly caught fire, flaring even brighter than Zola's. In an instant, Zola's flames sputtered and died, as if extinguished by an unseen force.
Watching from a distance, Bola's expression turned from frustration to confusion. "Oi! Zola, what the hell are you doing? Finish him off!"
But Zola's attempts to reignite his flames were futile. Every time he tried, Alonso's own fire would flare, and Zola's flames would snuff out, leaving him powerless and increasingly desperate. His eyes widened with frustration and fear, his voice trembling as he glared at Alonso. "What… what the hell did you do to my flames?!"
The king watched the scene in amazement, unable to understand what he was witnessing, but fully aware that Alonso was in complete control of the situation.
Zola scowled, struggling against Alonso's unbreakable grip. "What the hell did you do to my flames?"
Alonso tilted his head thoughtfully, an amused glint in his eye. "Ah, I see. You're unfamiliar with true fire control. Let me give you a little science lesson."
Both Zola and Bola blinked, momentarily taken aback. Even from a distance, Bola's curiosity got the better of him, his murderous intent briefly forgotten as he listened.
"It's really quite simple," Alonso began, his tone almost casual. "Ever heard of 'black burning'?"
Zola snarled, thrashing in Alonso's grip. "What the hell are you babbling about? Let me go!"
Alonso ignored the outburst, continuing smoothly, "This is why I said your magic is basic. You're throwing around fire and wind with brute force, but you don't understand their true nature." He gave Zola a condescending smile. "Black burning is a technique for controlling fire beyond the basics. When two fires get close to each other, they pull oxygen towards themselves due to their heat. This pull can actually cause the flames to collide, reducing available oxygen in the area and sometimes even snuffing each other out. So, instead of igniting... they suffocate each other."
Zola stared at Alonso, his confusion only deepening, while Bola, watching intently from afar, felt a spark of realization dawn on him. He muttered under his breath, "Pulling oxygen…? So that's why his flames are overpowering Zola's…"
But Zola only growled, his frustration boiling over. "Enough of this nonsense! You're just making things up!"
Alonso chuckled, his grip tightening as his own flames burned brighter. "Think whatever you want. But as long as I'm here, your fire is going to be nothing but a dying spark."
Bola stared deeply into Alonso, his eyes narrowing as an unsettling feeling crept into his gut. For the first time, he felt a flicker of genuine unease, and he knew there was no time to waste. His expression hardened, his tone deadly serious as he shouted, "Zola! No more games—together, now!"
Zola didn't hesitate. With a grimace, he severed his arm—the one Alonso held in his grip—freeing himself and leaping back. Dark energy crackled at the stump, and within moments, his arm regenerated, fully restored as if nothing had happened. The two demons exchanged a brief, understanding look, then turned their full attention to Alonso, their expressions fierce and focused.
In perfect unison, both released their mana in a blinding surge. A dark, suffocating aura engulfed the battlefield, casting shadows over every inch, the oppressive weight of their combined energy causing the very ground to tremble. Trees snapped under the pressure, and fissures cracked across the earth, as if even nature itself recoiled from their power.
Alonso stood amidst the encroaching darkness, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. "Ah… so the talking's over, is it?" he said, his voice low but laced with excitement. His own aura began to swell, a brilliant, electrified mist of aether that flared around him, casting an icy blue light through the shadowed haze. "Then let's get serious."