The ruins of the city stood as silent witnesses to the unfolding chaos. Lysandre Veyl, with his usual air of detachment, had dispatched the criminal rankers with effortless precision. But the ground trembled faintly beneath his feet, and Lysandre's ever-present smile grew sharper as he sensed something far more dangerous approaching.
From the distance, a figure emerged—a hulking silhouette that towered over the broken buildings. The air seemed to grow heavier with every step the newcomer took. His body was a mass of rippling muscle, barely contained by his tattered armor, and his eyes burned with a feral intensity. Deep crimson marks, resembling war paint, streaked across his scarred face.
One of the defeated rankers, crawling away from Lysandre, let out a hoarse laugh. "You're finished now… we called him… the Berserker… he'll tear you apart."
Lysandre raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A Berserker, you say? How fascinating. I do enjoy surprises."
The Berserker stopped a few paces away, his massive battle axe resting casually on one shoulder. Despite his brutish appearance, there was an unsettling intelligence in his gaze as he sized up Lysandre.
"You're the one who's been playing with my men," the Berserker said, his deep voice reverberating like distant thunder. "Cute tricks, but I don't have time for games."
Lysandre chuckled, twirling his rapier lazily. "And yet, here you are, joining the fun. Shall we see how long you last?"
The Clash Begins
Without warning, the Berserker charged, his movements deceptively fast for his massive size. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he closed the distance in an instant, his axe cleaving through the air with enough force to split a building in two.
Lysandre sidestepped the blow with ease, the blade missing him by a hair's breadth and smashing into the ground, sending a shockwave rippling outward. Dust and debris filled the air, but Lysandre's figure darted through it like a phantom.
"Impressive strength," Lysandre said, his tone still light. "But brute force alone won't win this."
The Berserker roared, swinging his axe in a relentless barrage of attacks. Each strike carried devastating power, the impact shaking the ruins and carving deep gashes into the earth. Yet no matter how fierce the assault, Lysandre remained untouched, his movements a mesmerizing dance of precision and agility.
"You're quick," the Berserker growled, frustration flashing in his eyes. "But let's see how long you can keep up."
With a guttural roar, he slammed his axe into the ground, channeling his raw energy into the earth. Crimson veins of magic spread like wildfire, erupting into massive spikes of jagged stone that shot toward Lysandre.
For the first time, Lysandre's smile faltered slightly. "Ah, you're not just muscle after all. Interesting."
Leaping gracefully from one crumbling structure to another, Lysandre dodged the spikes, but the Berserker was already closing in again, his axe raised high.
The Tide Turns
As the Berserker unleashed another devastating strike, Lysandre countered. With a flash of silver, his rapier deflected the blow, the force of the clash sending a shockwave that knocked nearby rubble into the air.
But while the rapier held, the sheer power of the Berserker's swing forced Lysandre back several paces. He landed lightly on his feet, his expression thoughtful.
"Such raw strength," Lysandre mused. "It's almost a shame to end this quickly."
The Berserker laughed, his voice booming. "End this? You're barely keeping up!"
He surged forward again, his attacks growing wilder, more unpredictable. Yet Lysandre met each blow with uncanny precision, his rapier moving like a serpent to deflect and counter.
"You're powerful, yes," Lysandre said, his voice calm even as their weapons clashed. "But power without control is just chaos. And chaos…"
In a sudden burst of speed, Lysandre ducked under the Berserker's swing and drove his rapier into a joint in the man's armor. The Berserker howled in pain, staggering back as blood seeped from the wound.
"…is something I wield far better than you," Lysandre finished, his smile returning.
The Berserker's True Power
The Berserker's breaths came heavy, but instead of faltering, his aura grew darker, more menacing. His crimson markings began to glow, and his muscles swelled as a primal roar escaped his lips.
Lysandre's eyes narrowed, intrigued. "Oh? You've been holding back, have you?"
The Berserker didn't respond. Instead, he slammed his fists into the ground, releasing a wave of pure energy that shattered the surrounding ruins. His axe, now crackling with fiery magic, seemed to hum with an insatiable hunger as he gripped it tightly.
When he charged this time, it was with a speed and ferocity that even Lysandre struggled to match. Their clash lit up the desolate city, sparks flying as their weapons met in a whirlwind of strikes.
Lysandre's movements became sharper, more focused. He pushed his limits, each strike of his rapier aimed at exploiting the Berserker's blind aggression. But the Berserker's resilience was unparalleled; even when wounded, he refused to slow down.
"You're persistent," Lysandre admitted, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. "But persistence alone won't save you."
With a feint, Lysandre drew the Berserker into overextending, leaving an opening. In a blur of motion, he struck—his rapier piercing the Berserker's side and delivering a precise, debilitating blow.
Victory in the Shadows
The Berserker fell to one knee, his axe slipping from his grasp. He glared up at Lysandre, his eyes still burning with defiance.
"You… you're not just some wanderer," the Berserker rasped.
Lysandre crouched in front of him, his mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement. "And you're not just some mindless brute. You almost made me sweat."
He stood, sheathing his rapier with a flourish. "But alas, this game is over. Consider yourself lucky—I'm feeling merciful today."
The Berserker slumped forward, unconscious but alive. Lysandre turned and walked away, his steps echoing through the ruins.
As he disappeared into the shadows, he murmured to himself, "If this is the caliber of opposition I'll face, this world might just prove to be entertaining after all."
To Be Continued...