"YAHOOO!"
Adam’s nails dug into his palms.
For a single heartbeat, all other sounds faded except for the scream of Desmond and the whistle of the Chronoscar. Ti was running short, and Louis could look for them at any mont. Not that it would matter. The golem would kill them before that.
They wouldn’t have another chance to defeat her.
His eyes narrowed into slits as he watched the blade close on her neck. A tingling sensation flared behind his neck, and just as it did, she did the unthinkable.
She leaned back—no, fell from the chaotic space she had been riding. But not entirely. Using the gap in her armored heel, she spun around it, landing upward after the blade passed her by. Simultaneously, her blade flashed with a light beam trapped in a dark tear in space.
The sound of slicing tal broke the silence.
Sparks rained from the wrist of the improvised glove wielded by Desmond. The chanical hand collapsed to the ground, cleanly sliced, while the Chronoscar shrank to its original size and spun toward the ceiling.
Biting his lip, Adam lunged forward. No matter how, this battle would end now.
The mont he did, Desmond leapt in one last desperate move, waving the colossal fra of his glove like a whip. "I’ll surpass all these old farts to stand at the pinnacle of Brineheart. I’m not going down here!"
For the briefest mont, the golem turned toward the tons of tal descending to crush her.
"YAHOOO!"
Desmond roared, but she swung her blade in a fluid barrage, slicing tal into smooth, equal parts.
"No..." Desmond landed on his knees, the last bit of strength draining like water through a broken cup.
He had given everything and more in this fight. But even then, he ended up as a disappointnt. His mind drifted to his past as his face t broken slabs.
All his life, he had been a disappointnt to his father, teachers, and fellow students. The glares, the bad-mouthing—he grew accustod to them and continued to try to forge his way toward impossible dreams even he didn’t entirely believe in. Today, however, was different. He had disappointed the only person who had given him a chance, who had decided, against all logic, to trust him with unspeakable secrets, to call him a friend.
More than anything, he was disappointed in himself for the first ti. Why was he like that? Why did he keep screaming "YAHOOO" each ti his emotions ran wild, and why did everything he touched explode?
A tear trailed down his cheek. It was unfair. He had been born like this, scorned for it without ever choosing. Even now, all he wanted was to say sorry, but only a weak, "Yahooo," escaped his trembling lips.
At that mont, as the golem shook her head before refocusing on him, Adam let out a visceral roar that couldn’t hide underlying pride. "Well done, Desmond!"
Adam hurled his fist toward the golem. Chaotic air ignited in a deafening blast at point-blank range.
Blinded, the golem leapt gracefully away from the flas, landing midair as if she stood on solid ground. Then, she forced the flas apart with an upward swing.
Her red eyes flashed toward Adam. Not there...
She looked at Desmond, who strained his head up with a closed fist against the ground. Adam wouldn’t escape without his friend, which ans...
She snapped her head toward the divided flas of the blast that had yet to fade.
"RAHHH!" Adam’s charred fra reflected in her gems as he erged above her and pulled the mana thread wrapped around the flying Chronoscar’s hilt.
It shot to his hand, morphing into a battle axe as he spun down. Space bent in his wake, the arc of his blade drawing the outline of a somber star around him.
The golem tried to lift her sword, but it was too late. She had fallen for that last distraction. Instead, her twitching lips blood into a broad smile—just as the axe crashed against the top of her head.
Sounds of sawing tal filled the room
On the ground, Desmond’s voice cracked into a hopeful scream. "YAHOOO... No. End her!"
In response, the dark star erupted in iridescent colors as all the elents burst forth. In this chaotic storm, Adam pushed his weapon deeper into her chanical skull until they both crashed to the ground in an ocean of dust.
Before it dissipated, Desmond crawled toward them, sweat drawing lines through the gri on his face.
"Are you okay?" he tentatively called at the edges of the crater ford by the collision.
The dust faded. In its midst, he saw Adam standing, both hands dripping blood around the hilt of his axe. He averted his gaze from the grueso sight for a heartbeat. A bloody ss of lted flesh—that was what Adam’s body looked like. And from his immobility, he seed kind of out. Still, he glared at the axe intently.
It was lodged deep enough to reach her brow. This was over. They had won.
"Adam—" he started before his voice cracked in pure horror. "Dodge!"
The scream forced Adam out of the daze his brain had chosen over pain, to the sight of the golem’s sword blurring at him as if its pierced head ant nothing.
He had no ti to dodge, not even to blink. He had lost.
Reality hurt him more than the countless wounds he had sustained in this battle. But even regretting his defeat was a luxury she hadn’t allowed him.
Yet, the blade halted an inch from his torso, the spade-shaped tip that should have gutted him held horizontally. He lifted his face to the golem’s smile, and she simply pushed the cold hilt of her sword against his burnt chest.
Wide-eyed, he gripped the hilt.
The mont he did, the golem collapsed. Her split head and limbs turned into brilliant particles that condensed into a grimoire where she had stood. Only her silvery cuirass remained, falling without support. Before it could hit the ground, it shot at the sword, bending around it. Soon, a black star with jagged edges adorned a silvery scabbard.
"The trial’s over..." Adam exhaled, every inch of his body screaming agony.
And his system flared after so long with a silent option.
[Tier-nine sword: The Unbroken Blade of Orrivandrel detected. Soul binding available. Proceed? Yes/No]
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