Raiden's thoughts arrived in heavy, dense chunks, difficult to process initially. But as he looked into those brown eyes before him, cold yet gentle, his blood boiled with fury. No one should covet the eyes of Jobe. No one.
Worse, his hatred for the poison dragon ran deep. Those nacing eyes it had fixed on Sullivan as it struck him from the cliff, that envious, greedy look as it watched him fall to his death.
This wasn't sothing he could forgive. Even if he could let this go, the dragon would still have to die. No one could be his twin brother. Not sothing he could ever forgive.
Even so, he found himself in a situation where only fury kept him standing. Deathsight's strikes tore through the malicious air, coming at Raiden from all directions. Too fast, too powerful; leaving him no room to think, only to defend.
His teeth were gritted, his hands going numb as his regeneration struggled to keep pace—barely healing from one strike before another landed. His golden eyes darted frantically, searching the bastard for sothing, any small opening to exploit. But he could barely track the strikes, much less predict his movents.
He was the moon dragon, but even so, re minutes into the fight, he wished he had sched up so kind of strategy. His enhanced sight began failing him as the mana he concentrated in his eyes faltered with every strike.
He didn't need much to tell that Ling's abilities went far beyond just his dragon lineage. His smooth maneuvers and relentless yet precise movents told Raiden that he had spent years honing his skills. He was vice captain for a reason.
Deathsight moved as if he had eyes on all sides. He left no opening whatsoever, and even when Raiden caught the slightest glimpse of what might be an opportunity, his enemy's stamina and reflexes rendered it futile.
But through the stretching chaos, Raiden still searched for a way to tip the balance. He wasn't losing this battle. Read full story at Nove1Fire
Acting on pure instinct, his body moved on its own, eting Ling's powerful attacks mid-strike. In the heat of the mont, his first coherent thought finally erged as he watched himself repeatedly intercept each blow, absorbing the impact before it could hit with full force.
For a brief mont, as Deathsight's strikes t his body, an opening erged around his striking arm. Too fast and narrow to deliver anything bone-cracking, but he knew it was his best shot—sothing, anything to help him regroup.
At the end of his thoughts, Ling struck at him, aiming directly for his chest. Raiden concentrated mana into his legs and chest, then exploded the force within his legs to close the distance. When Deathsight's swing connected with his chest, his opponent's eyes widened in terror.
Raiden's chest sank inward, Ling's strike driving deep into his soul, its power intensifying as it burrowed into his skin. He was sent crashing down into the skulls and bones below.
He clutched his chest as he lay among the bones, gasping as air escaped him while he struggled for breath. His mind jumped from one thought to another. He would have died if he hadn't hardened his chest.
Had Deathsight given him that opening just to set up his attack? Or had he seen through his plan from the beginning?
His chest burned like fire, but his situation gave him no ti to recover. Pushing through the agony, he forced himself upright on trembling legs, his heart hamring like never before as even Euphoria failed to steady him. He was truly fighting a monster.
Still, through all his struggles, he knew he was going to kill Deathsight and rip out those stolen eyes. His head tilted slightly toward Ling. There the dragon stood, hands tucked in his pockets, white and black hair flickering in the wind as he wore that confident smile.
"You wanted ti to rethink, so I gave it to you. Use it wisely." His voice was etched with disappointnt but stern, as though he knew he had already won.
Raiden clenched his hands into tight fists. Though he could barely feel his fingers against his palms, he sensed his regeneration kicking in, the fire in his chest already starting to fade.
Breathing like a wounded horse, he leaned to one side and spat blood onto the ground.
"You're the one they assigned as my underlink? Under Snow, the third vice-captain?" Ling said and began approaching Raiden. "Doesn't matter. You're my enemy now."
Finally, Raiden smirked. The gap in power between him and Deathsight was undeniably vast. Even as the moon dragon, he obviously had a long way to go. And yet, Ling still chose to treat him as an equal.
Such elegant morals. Under different circumstances, this was soone he would have loved working alongside. But unfortunately, not only did he bear the eyes that Raiden couldn't let him keep, but he was also bound to be his enemy through their dragon heritage.
His smirk widened as he watched Ling charging toward him. With his mind finally clear, he wanted desperately to end this before it could escalate any further.
In one swift movent, Ling appeared before him, a strike aid directly at Raiden's head. Faster than a heartbeat, Raiden blocked.
The force still sent him skidding sideways. Deathsight followed with a flip, delivering a lightning-quick kick, but this ti Raiden was faster—he leaped back, avoiding it entirely.
Then, finally, euphoria kicked in. His body began shaking with excitent as a twisted smile etched across his face.
He closed the distance to Ling in a flash. Deathsight frowned, eyes locked on Raiden's hostile expression, confused by his swift change in temperant.
But Raiden had no interest in words. His strike cut through the air at Ling, who slipped past it by re inches, but Raiden's follow-up ca lightning-fast, crushing Ling into the ground.
Still, Raiden gave him no mont to recover, closing the gap. He channeled mana through his knuckles and attacked. Deathsight caught the blow, though the force buckled his stance.
Yet before Raiden could follow up, his dragon instincts triggered, and he vaulted backwards in a flash, opening up the space between them.
His cruel smile shifted to sothing forced and tense, perspiration gathering on his brow as the truth hit him: without that retreat, Ling's knee would have demolished his ribcage.
But even so, within the gentle breeze, with Luci seated under his skull-structured gazebo, his eyes were fixated on them with what felt like a creepy smile as his seat leaped back and forth. It was as though Raiden and Deathsight shared the sa mind.
They both lunged forward and unleashed a flurry of strikes. Their attacks left afterimages in the air, the exchange escalating beyond what mortal eyes could follow as they evaded each blow by razor-thin margins.
Dusty mists swallowed their battlefield instantly, shrouding both fighters from view. Though his attacks grew fiercer by the mont, fueled by the imagined satisfaction of tearing Ling's eyes from their sockets, Raiden still felt an underlying wrongness.
Deathsight's attacks ca lightning-fast, and those that missed still carved freezing air currents that made Raiden's flesh crawl, dread rising within him for no clear reason.
But his montary lapse in focus proved costly. Ling delivered a deceptive blow, throwing Raiden into confusion as he raised his guard against the fake attack.
His eyes dilated instantly. At the edge of his vision, a strike sailed toward his temple; he understood imdiately that one hit would end him. His heart pounded past rational limits, fever flooding his system as he marshaled every muscle to intercept the attack.
By sheer luck, his left hand intercepted the blow, but he shrieked in pain as bones snapped audibly through the air before the force launched him into the ground at the base of Luci's gazebo.
Raiden couldn't suppress his agony, piercing screams filling the air with raw despair. His arm hung uselessly and shattered in his grip. He could sense the bone shards floating beneath his flesh, and for the first ti, he desperately longed for soone to rescue him.
Cold seized his fra, air coming in broken gasps while his senses urged complete capitulation. But his thoughts betrayed him with graphic visions of his shattered skeleton, whispering that escape was his sole hope.
There was no sha in retreat; he could return to finish this once his arm nded and his strength returned. Or better yet, he could grovel for rcy and devise a plan to eliminate him later; after all, he was still his vice captain.
However, with a clenched jaw and his unbroken fist striking the ground over and over, he refused to back down. Standing there was the man who shared his brother's enchanting charisma, an unbearable sight, and the dragon who had killed Sullivan, who had destroyed his singular family, who embodied Ash's deepest fears.
When his screams finally faded, he began dragging himself through the tornt, willing his body upright. He had shown cowardice once before, and that weakness had cost Jobe his life. Never again… he would not shrink away.
As he struggled to his shaking feet, cold sweat beading across his bloodless skin, he breathed:
"You keep giving reasons… I'll kill you."
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