Chapter 84: Borzoi vs Maxwell 5
A strange silence fell over the battlefield.
For a brief mont, everything seed to pause, as if the world itself held its breath in response to sothing that had yet to fully reveal itself. The dust that had risen from the repeated impacts hung in the air, unmoving, suspended between motion and stillness, while the faint scent of blood and scorched earth lingered around them.
Then—
Sothing broke.
It did not co from the ground.
It did not co from the air.
It ca from Maxwell.
A deep, resonant sound erupted from his body, not quite a roar, not quite a pulse, but sothing that carried the presence of sothing ancient, sothing vast, sothing that did not belong to an ordinary human body. It spread outward in a wave that could not be seen but could be felt, pressing against everything around him with a force that seed to ripple through the land itself.
Borzoi’s eyes narrowed instantly.
"...What is that...?"
Before he could take another step, a massive shadow burst outward from Maxwell’s body, expanding behind him like sothing breaking free from a cage that had held it for far too long. It rose into the sky, its shape imnse, its outline resembling that of a dragon whose form was not fully bound by the limits of reality.
The ground trembled.
The air vibrated.
The light around them twisted.
Then—
A blinding glow followed.
White.
Gold.
Brilliant to the point where it seed to swallow everything else.
It poured out from Maxwell’s body like a flood, covering him entirely, wrapping around him in layers that pulsed with a rhythm that felt alive, as if the energy itself carried a will that was now awakening. The light spread outward, reaching across the battlefield, reflecting against the dust, against the broken ground, against Borzoi himself, until the entire area was filled with a radiance that felt both pure and overwhelming.
The phenonon did not stop there.
The sky above them reacted.
Clouds trembled.
The faint winds that had once passed quietly began to swirl, drawn toward the center where Maxwell lay, as if sothing within him was pulling at the world itself, demanding attention, demanding acknowledgnt.
The dragon-shaped shadow behind him grew clearer.
More defined.
Its massive form coiling, its presence pressing down on everything beneath it as if declaring its existence without needing words. Its eyes, though made of light and shadow, seed to open, and in that mont, the pressure around them increased drastically.
Borzoi felt it.
Not as a simple force.
Not as a straightforward threat.
But as sothing deeper.
Sothing instinctual.
Sothing that made even his body, already burning in its heightened state, react in a way that he did not expect.
His gaze dropped briefly to his foot.
The wound there still bled, the thin line of red trailing down his skin, but now, even with his body in its strengthened state, he could not ignore the strange sensation that crawled through him.
"...This feeling..."
His voice lowered.
His instincts sharpened.
Sothing was wrong.
Not in a simple way.
Not in a way he could ignore.
His grip tightened.
His muscles tensed.
"...Sothing bad is coming."
The thought ca without hesitation.
Without doubt.
And for soone like Borzoi, who relied on his instincts more than anything else, that feeling alone was enough.
He did not wait.
He moved.
In an instant, he was upon Maxwell again, his body cutting through the light that surrounded him, his expression hardened, no longer mocking, no longer casual, but serious in a way that he had not shown before.
"If you’re going to do sothing..."
His voice carried a sharp edge.
"...then I’ll crush you before you can."
His fist ca down.
Hard.
Fast.
Brutal.
The impact struck Maxwell directly, yet the light surrounding him flickered but did not break, absorbing part of the force while still allowing the strike to land.
Borzoi did not stop.
Another punch.
Then a kick.
Then a knee.
Each movent flowed into the next, his entire body becoming a weapon, every part of him used to deliver force, to break, to destroy, to end whatever was forming before it could fully awaken.
His shoulder slamd forward.
His head drove down.
His elbow struck.
Each hit carried devastating power, enough to crush bone, enough to tear flesh, enough to shatter anything that stood in its path.
Yet—
Maxwell’s body did not break.
It trembled.
It shook.
But it did not collapse.
The light continued to pour out, growing stronger with each passing mont, even as Borzoi’s attacks rained down upon him without pause.
Inside Maxwell—
His consciousness wavered.
Master...
His thoughts blurred.
I...
The voice within him answered, but this ti, there was sothing different in it.
Concern.
Hold on.
Maxwell’s awareness flickered.
You are losing yourself.
The warning ca clearly.
Your body is awakening... but your mind is not keeping up.
Maxwell tried to respond.
But the words would not form.
The sensation spreading through him was overwhelming, as if sothing inside him was breaking apart, only to be rebuilt in a way that he could not fully control.
His master continued.
The Dragon Body is not just power.
It is transformation.
Maxwell’s thoughts grew heavier.
You must stay conscious.
If you lose control...
The voice paused.
Then continued.
You may not co back.
Outside—
Borzoi continued his assault.
His attacks grew faster.
Stronger.
More relentless.
He could feel it.
That danger.
That growing presence.
Each ti his strikes landed, the sensation increased, not decreased, as if instead of stopping whatever was happening, he was only pushing it further along.
"...Damn it..."
He struck again.
And again.
Each blow shaking the ground beneath them, each impact echoing across the battlefield, each movent driven by the need to end it before it was too late.
"Stay down!"
Another strike.
"Don’t get up!"
Another.
His breathing grew heavier.
His body burned hotter.
Yet the feeling—
That feeling did not go away.
It grew.
Closer.
Stronger.
More intense.
"...What the hell are you becoming...?"
He struck again.
But this ti—
Sothing changed.
His fist did not land as expected.
It stopped.
Held.
Caught.
Borzoi’s eyes widened slightly.
His arm trembled.
Maxwell’s hand had grasped his fist.
Firmly.
Unmoving.
The light around him surged.
The dragon shadow behind him roared silently, its presence pressing down harder than before, as if acknowledging the mont, as if declaring that sothing had finally awakened.
Maxwell’s head lifted slowly.
His face was different.
Not completely.
But enough.
His eyes glowed faintly, the white and gold light reflecting within them, making it difficult to tell where the human ended and sothing else began.
Then—
He spoke.
His mouth opened.
But the sound that ca out was not entirely human.
"You are..."
His voice carried a strange echo, layered, as if more than one presence spoke through him.
"...too much."
The grip on Borzoi’s fist tightened.
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