Chapter 47: Face Off 4

Chapter 47: Face Off 4 The battlefield steamed beneath the torn sky, the scorched terrain still pulsing from the aftermath of the phoenix’s wrath. Molten cracks glowed faintly beneath the shattered soil, and stray cinders floated like haunted stars in the mist. No one spoke. But everyone moved. Five remained. Ashen. Layla. Rayne. Rin. Nyx. And the war was not over. Layla tightened her grip on her twin sabers. Her breath came shallow, but her gaze never wavered. She looked across the field where Rayne stood like a looming monolith, his tattered cloak fluttering in the breeze stirred by his own magic. His glaive glinted in the fading light, blood and wind weaving around him in silence. "You know it ends here," Layla said. Rayne’s eyes narrowed. "Then let’s finish it." In an instant, the two blurred into motion—twin streaks of silver and blue colliding in the heart of the battlefield. Steel rang like thunder. Wind and frost exploded in every direction, carving trenches and craters as the two clashed with no restraint. Layla moved like a dancer with blades of ice, spinning, flipping, dodging with elegance. Rayne answered with towering strikes, his glaive spinning arcs of compressed air that cut trees in half with each sweep. Their duel quickly pulled into the distance—a storm of speed and skill. Ashen didn’t watch. He turned toward Nyx and Rin. They stood side by side, scarred but unyielding. Rin’s body shimmered faintly with the blue glow of his Divinity—Tidesoul Ascension—water swirling around his arms like living blades. Nyx, by contrast, looked like death incarnate. Her void aura pulsed with raw instability, her pupils sharp and vertical, her daggers curved and crackling. Ashen wiped blood from his mouth, raised his blade. "Two on one?" he muttered. "Fair." "You’re already dying," Nyx replied. "We’re just delivering it gently." Ashen smirked. "Come try." Rin was the first to move, surging forward in a blur of water. He struck low with a tidal punch, forcing Ashen to leap backward—only to be met by Nyx above him, falling from the sky like a shadow comet. Ashen barely raised a shield of shadows before her blades dug in. The impact launched him sideways. He crashed through a chunk of stone, rolled twice, and sprang up just in time to catch Rin’s next attack. A spinning kick encased in a water vortex. Ashen blocked it with both forearms and was sent flying again. He slammed into the dirt, skidding until he came to a halt near a crater, breath ragged. "Okay," he said, standing. "You’re serious." Nyx descended like lightning. Her daggers moved faster than sight—left, right, feint, stab—Ashen deflected each with his blade, his left hand conjuring tendrils to slow her down. One snared her ankle. He twisted, trying to slam her down. She cut herself free midair. But Ashen had already leapt backward. He landed on a slope, breath shallow, eyes flashing. Rin raised both hands. Water spiraled into a sharp lance—then another. He fired them like spears. Ashen dodged the first, blocked the second with a shadow wall, but the third clipped his thigh. He winced. He responded by extending his arm, launching a wave of sharpened darkness toward Rin. Rin stepped to the side and raised a whirlpool to absorb it. "Come on, Ashen!" Nyx called. "Where’s that god-slayer fire now?" Ashen didn’t answer. Instead, he moved—faster than either expected. In a blink, he was beside Nyx, not attacking, but casting. He touched her shadow—once. It burst outward. A shockwave of suppression magic slammed into her nervous system, dulling her perception. Her form shimmered—staggered. Rin lunged to protect her. Ashen whirled, blade singing through the air. Their weapons met—steel and water. They clashed in a whirlwind of parries and counters. Rin’s fluid strikes, enhanced by divinity, flowed like a river. Ashen’s counters, laced with shadow and blood magic, were jagged and brutal. But Rin was gaining ground. He punched forward, and a geyser erupted from beneath Ashen, throwing him upward. Nyx recovered and vanished—reappearing midair to slam her dagger toward his heart. Ashen twisted in the air—barely. The dagger pierced his shoulder instead. He didn’t scream. He grabbed her wrist mid-strike. "You’ve already lost," he whispered. Nyx tried to blink again—but she couldn’t. Ashen’s tether spell locked her in place. Her eyes widened. He flipped her. A glyph ignited beneath her. The elimination rune surged. "No—!" Rin shouted, hurling a wave to stop it. Too late. Ashen’s blade tapped the ground. Nyx vanished in a flicker of light. Eliminated. Ashen dropped to one knee, coughing up blood. He stared down at his palm—it shook. "Two left," he murmured. He looked up. Rin stood across the field, face pale, fists clenched, water pulsing like a storm around him. On the far side, Layla and Rayne had paused briefly—just long enough to register what had happened. Rayne smirked faintly. Layla’s brows furrowed. "He did it." Ashen turned to face Rin again. "You don’t have to do this," he said. Rin stepped forward. "Yes, I do." Ashen’s blade rose. So did Rin’s waters. And across the battlefield, the war raged on. The battlefield steamed in eerie silence, the soil broken, burned, and carved by spells no longer lingering. All around, trees leaned like wounded sentinels, their bark blackened, their branches scorched bare. Nothing moved—except four shadows. Ashen stood on one side of the battlefield, shoulders rising and falling with every shallow breath. His body trembled from the weight of his last battles, his shadow flickering at his feet like it, too, was exhausted. The crimson insignia on his shoulder was faded and burned through, and the grip of his shadow-forged blade was slick with blood—his own. Across from him stood Rin. The Tidesoul. Blue divinity shimmered along his skin, subtle but terrifying in its clarity. The runes running down his arms pulsed with watery resonance. His breathing was calm, measured—more stable than Ashen’s, but he wasn’t unscathed. His left gauntlet was shattered, and blood seeped from a deep cut across his ribs. Between them, the air itself bent under the weight of lingering magic. "You could walk away," Ashen said, his voice hoarse but steady. "I could," Rin replied, tightening his stance. "But I won’t." There were no further words. The storm resumed. Rin surged forward first, water forming beneath his boots, propelling him like a missile. He twisted in midair, a torrent forming around his leg, and dropped a hammering kick down toward Ashen’s head. Ashen stepped aside, barely, feeling the air split beside his face. He responded with a slash of pure shadow, the arc extending like a crescent blade. Rin countered with a tidal shield that absorbed the strike and rebounded with a spinning lunge of his trident. Ashen ducked under it and responded with three sharp strikes. Each was faster than the last. The first Rin parried. The second grazed his thigh. The third pierced his shoulder, but just barely. Rin retaliated with a punch to Ashen’s gut, launching a blast of compressed water. Ashen flew backward, bouncing twice against the rocky ground before coming to a halt. He coughed violently, red pooling at his lips, but he rose again. The shadow around him pulsed—erratic, unstable. "You’re reaching your limit," Rin said. "End this." "I did," Ashen whispered, voice ragged, "the moment I decided to keep fighting." With a snarl, he thrust his palm into the earth. A glyph of shadow bloomed beneath Rin’s feet, black tendrils snaking upward to bind him. Rin exploded with energy, his aura flaring. Water burst outward in a 10-meter ring, vaporizing the tendrils—but it had been a feint. Ashen appeared behind him, already mid-strike. The shadowblade drove forward, stabbing into Rin’s shoulder—not deep enough to maim, but enough to anchor. From the blade, threads of dark mana surged into Rin’s body, clouding his channels. Rin screamed and staggered, but managed to sweep backward with a crashing tide. Ashen was flung once more, crashing into a broken monolith with a grunt. Both warriors paused, breathless. Their visors flickered. Ashen’s mana bar was flashing red. Rin’s divine aura had dimmed. Still, they stood. Rin stepped forward, water forming once more around his arms. Ashen pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t speak this time. He ran. Rin mirrored him, the two clashing like titans in the center of the ruined field. Shadow collided with tide—blades struck with blinding speed, magic detonated with every strike. Rin slammed Ashen into the earth with a rising surge—but Ashen blinked mid-fall, reappearing behind him. A shadow spike launched upward—Rin turned, slashing it in half with a spiral of water—but he didn’t see the real attack. Ashen appeared above him, spinning. With a roar, he dropped the flat of his blade against Rin’s back—triggering a rune engraved on the blade’s edge. A shockwave pulsed. The glyph beneath Rin ignited. A faint buzz echoed from their bracelets as the field’s system confirmed the conditions. Ashen stood, shoulders slumped, blade lowered. Rin collapsed to one knee, blinking rapidly. "You... used... all your reserves on that..." Ashen nodded. "That was the point." The elimination glyph activated. Rin looked up, mouth parting, and then vanished into white light. Eliminated. Ashen stood alone. Barely. His vision blurred. His legs trembled. From the far end of the battlefield, Layla turned sharply at the fading glow of Rin’s exit. She caught Ashen’s staggering figure. And in that moment, her expression cracked. He was falling. "Ashen!" she cried. He looked toward her. Smiled. Then stumbled to one knee, catching himself with his blade. His bracelet pulsed violently. Warning: Mana core at 0%. Shadow conduit collapsed. Emergency override imminent.Vital signs failing. Automatic elimination in progress. Ashen glanced at the flickering glyph under his feet. It was forming. He reached up, pulled off his half-shredded mask, and looked at Layla. "This fight’s yours now," he said. She took one step forward. "Don’t," Ashen said gently. "Win. That’s all that matters." The glyph surged beneath him. A halo of white light enveloped his form. He smiled one last time. And vanished. Eliminated. On the other side of the field, Rayne adjusted his grip on his glaive. He’d watched everything. Layla exhaled slowly and raised both her blades. Only two remained now. And the sky felt colder than ever. The war had come to its final duel.