This was the only chance Uriel would have to face Elijah. Their exchange had proven it: what was the point if, at the end of the day, Uriel could withstand a couple of attacks but wasn’t able to land any?
It would be a aningless fight, dood to fail. That was why he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity Ininise had given him. Uriel tried to grab Elijah desperately, but Elijah didn’t retreat. Far from panicking, his sword was ready again in an instant, and he stabbed Uriel in the stomach as he moved away from him.
No matter how much he wanted to reach him, Uriel’s body simply wasn’t moving fast enough. But Uriel already knew that would happen.
In a single mont, Uriel threw his mace in an attack that caught Elijah off guard. He wasn’t used to his opponents throwing their weapons; it was a clumsy, risky, and often useless move—or at least that was what he had been taught at the combat academy.
But this wasn’t Earth. This was the Tower.
Uriel’s mace flew in a straight line at astonishing speed. The benefits of his class in strength finally showed results. The steel mace beca a fierce projectile in his hands, crashing into Elijah’s chest.
Elijah’s armor caved in, making him cough up blood. After all, the armor he wore was made from ordinary human materials; it wasn’t designed to withstand the force of a weapon wielded by a climber.
But even that blow wasn’t enough to bring Elijah down. His posture had lost the perfection he always displayed, and he was breathing heavily. Even so, he was still in better condition than Uriel. It would take many more blows like that to begin evening the fight.
Uriel and Elijah stared at each other. Both were certain they had never faced an opponent like the one standing before them.
Uriel moved first, summoning his mace back into his hand along with his shield. His determination to kill these two remained intact, burning like a fierce fire.
But Elijah had his own fla. His sword ignited once more, ready to answer Uriel. Normally, Elijah would have to look for openings in his opponent’s armor; however, almost nothing remained of Uriel’s leather armor, so he didn’t have to search long to find the perfect spot.
Uriel didn’t stay still and raised his shield, stopping Elijah’s thrust dead in its tracks. After facing the imps and the tentacles of the flesh monstrosity, he had been forced to get used to moving the shield; after all, it was the only thing that had kept him alive in those fights.
Elijah was genuinely surprised. He hadn’t expected that, sohow, the clumsy man who swung a mace like a complete novice could block his thrust. But nothing had changed. Elijah continued attacking again and again. If that damned shield was the only thing standing between him and killing Uriel, then he would destroy it gladly.
His weapon proved to be stronger than Uriel’s shield, which was slowly but surely breaking apart; it wouldn’t last much longer.
Just before receiving the final blow that would have destroyed the shield, Uriel pulled it back quickly and, with his other arm, struck Elijah’s arm with the mace.
"Ugh!"
Elijah cried out in pain for a mont. The armor caved in, squeezing his arm tightly. His gaze filled with hatred. He didn’t understand—this should have been an easy fight; in fact, it was. And yet, every ti he thought he was going to win, sohow this man got lucky and avoided it.
No... it wasn’t luck. He had to admit it: it was too much of a coincidence. This man was calculating every one of his movents, every one of his injuries. He made sacrifices, took advantage of Elijah’s confidence and of the very edge Elijah had over him due to his combat experience.
It was true: Elijah was the only one there who wasn’t fighting with his life on the line. Without a doubt, he was fighting to kill—but this man was fighting to live.
So he made a decision: he would also put his life on the line in this fight. Otherwise, he would keep losing little by little. His arrogance was useless.
"Co on, Uriel!"
For the first ti, Elijah called out to an opponent since arriving at this Tower. He had only killed monsters and the people Viviane had ordered him to, so for the first ti, his sword faced an enemy he did not need to simply kill, but to overco.
However, this ti it was Uriel who began to retreat, which seed like a foolish action in Elijah’s eyes. He couldn’t escape him; after all, Elijah was faster. His flaming sword burned Uriel’s flesh—his arms, his torso—everything within reach was painfully scorched.
Even so, Uriel remained standing. The fire allowed him to keep his consciousness and not fall asleep as his entire body demanded; the pain brought him back to reality.
At last, there was nowhere left to run. Elijah had cornered him and didn’t waste the opportunity to execute a vertical slash—he was going to split Uriel from neck to feet. But Uriel used his shield in a final effort, striking the sword directly with it, finally giving way and shattering into pieces.
[You have lost the Guardian’s Shield]
But it gave him the last opening he needed. Uriel struck Elijah with his mace once more, caving in his armor again—this ti even breaking it. The impact landed in the exact sa spot.
Blood burst from Elijah’s chest as shards of tal, now embedded in him, tore through his flesh.
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