In the silver-gray spatial realm, where streams of light flickered and flowed, two figures—one clad in purple, the other in black—stood facing each other at a distance.
Two sharp killing intents, restrained yet ready to erupt, brewed a power that could shake the world. Around them, the Chaos Tide, twisting like roaming dragons and venomous serpents, was torn apart and ground to pieces by invisible whirlwinds. Heavy clouds hung low, and an oppressive dread pressed down like collapsing mountain ranges.
Boom!
In an instant, a cold smile curled at Scáthach's lips. The compressed torrent of Ether around her exploded outward. Violet ghostlight flared like raging fire as her swift, agile body surged forward a hundred meters in a blink. The crimson demonic spear, bristling with vicious barbs, smashed down through the air.
Samael's serpent pupils shrank. He had already anticipated this shameless sneak attack with no warning. He shifted his steps and dodged aside, slipping past it cleanly. At the same time, he strode in close, closing to within three feet of Scáthach.
The pitch-black cross-spear sealed within the Magecraft array let out a low hum. The moment it manifested, it trembled violently, cold light flickering along its edge.
Spear shadows overlapped in layers. Barbed spikes tore forward. The gusting wind howled like wailing spirits, sharp and chilling.
The battle-hardened Queen of the Land of Shadows fully exploited her martial skill, already honed to the realm of perfection, keeping their distance precisely within the optimal range for sweeping strikes and piercing thrusts.
Pulled into her rhythm, Samael awakened the Authority of the Beast, attempting to reclaim control by matching speed with speed, relying on a serpent's keen senses and reflexes. Yet after several attempts, all he gained were shallow gouges from the spear's barbs, accomplishing nothing.
Scáthach held the initiative. Her spear flashed like cold starlight, forcing Samael to block left and parry right, driving his monstrous strength to withstand that overwhelmingly tyrannical Mana.
The clash of their powers was so violent it felt as though it could snuff out all life. Light and shadow swept outward like Death swinging a scythe, tearing the very fabric of space full of holes.
At the center of the storm, Samael and Scáthach both searched relentlessly for openings. Their movements were sharp and precise, constantly adjusting their posture to avoid fatal strikes. Even the gruesome wounds that did land quickly closed as flesh writhed and regenerated.
For a time, blood sprayed, Ether raged, and the ringing clash of metal never ceased. The battle grew fiercer by the second, yet neither side could break the deadlock.
In truth, if it came down to pure spear technique alone, Samael was slightly inferior to Scáthach.
After all, the Ancient Serpent's natural talent had its limits. Most of what he had achieved came from self-exploration. The only one who could truly be called his teacher, someone who had given him genuine guidance, was Leonidas, a late-era hero with divine blood.
Because of that, Samael relied far more on manipulating Authority, which in turn restricted the sharpening of his spear technique.
But the Queen of the Land of Shadows was a born combat spirit. A thousand years of thought, a thousand years of time, all poured into her twin demonic spears.
When spear technique reaches the realm of perfection, even gods may be slain.
Trying to overwhelm Scáthach decisively through spear skill alone and secure an unquestionable victory was as difficult as reaching the heavens.
Pfft!
A strip of flesh was torn from beneath Samael's ribs. He jerked, letting out a muffled grunt as he stumbled back several steps, barely avoiding the demonic spear smashing down toward his head.
By now, the blood dripping from their wounds had begun to gather within the space realm they had carved out, floating and pooling into a shallow puddle.
Sshk!
At the same time, Scáthach's arm was split open again by one of the cross-spear's prongs, the wound savage as crimson blood sprayed outward.
After such a brutal exchange, the elegant gown that hindered the Queen's movement had been shredded in several places, its intricate trim torn away. Her strong, rounded thighs were exposed, flashes of skin spilling out with each step. The fabric, soaked through with blood, was stained in patches of scarlet, creating a beauty that was both vicious and strangely mesmerizing.
Mm…
This long-forgotten pain… how nostalgic. How exhilarating.
Scáthach curled her fingers and wiped away a streak of blood from her lower abdomen. She lifted her hand, admiring the vivid color with quiet satisfaction. Her blood-red eyes gleamed with a different kind of brilliance, and her burning aura surged once more as the crimson demonic spear gathered power, poised to strike again.
"Stop! Same old rules—I surrender!"
Drenched in blood and looking utterly miserable, Samael's eyelids twitched. He bared his teeth and hissed through the pain, then decisively raised both hands in surrender.
Bang!
A streak of crimson tore through the air like scarlet lightning. The reversed barbs gleamed with a chilling sheen as a terrifying thicket of spear shadows swallowed Samael's entire field of vision in an instant.
"Again?!"
The Ancient Serpent's pupils shrank sharply. Like a coiled spring snapping free, he jerked backward, yelping as he barely slipped past the edge of the crimson demonic spear.
"At this level, you won't die."
Scáthach stepped forward, pulling her weapon free. She arched a brow with a faint smile, her tone calm and certain.
"It's a spar! Just a spar! Do we really have to turn it into a murder scene every single time?"
Samael glanced down at himself—hardly a patch of intact snake skin left—and nearly exploded with frustration, a bitter sting rising in his chest.
I knew it. The moment I trade blows with this woman, a spar turns into a fight for my life.
Why do I never dare drop by the Land of Shadows? You seriously have no idea? Wouldn't it be nice to sit down, have some tea, talk about life and ideals?
Every meeting costs me a layer of skin. How is this supposed to be enjoyable?
Scáthach looked utterly unconcerned.
"As long as it's a battle, there is no room for slack. If I don't drive you to the brink, how will you know your limits? And how will you ever defeat me?"
"Yes, yes, you're absolutely right."
Samael forced a dry laugh, eyes flickering as he edged backward step by step, trying to slip away unnoticed.
"If I'm right, then why are you running?"
Scáthach's smile deepened. She spun the demonic spear in her hand and advanced, gaze locked onto the slippery serpent.
What kind of question is that? If I don't run, should I just stand here and let you skewer me into a porcupine?
Seeing he'd been exposed, Samael bolted toward a spatial node, fleeing at full speed while grumbling indignantly.
"I already said I surrender! Can't we just call it off?"
"No."
A pleased curve tugged at Scáthach's lips. Crimson eyes glinted as she hurled the demonic spear without hesitation, the weapon tearing through the air toward him.
Relying on razor-sharp instincts, Samael bent at the waist as though his spine had vanished, twisting out of the way at the last possible second. The blood-streaked spear embedded itself ahead, its shaft quivering violently.
"If you keep holding back, you really will die. Show me—"
The Queen of the Land of Shadows surged forward, right hand already reaching for her weapon, voice low in warning.
But just as the distance between them shrank to less than two meters, the figure ahead stamped hard, abruptly reversing direction. His narrowed serpent eyes flared with a sinister gleam.
At the same instant, a sudden straight punch shot upward from below, fast as lightning, slamming brutally into Scáthach's lower abdomen.
Bang!
Her powerful, athletic body arced beautifully through the air like a cannonball fired from its barrel, blasting backward and scattering the surrounding Chaos Tide.
"Chasing me isn't that easy, old friend."
Samael turned at leisure, dropping out of his Pankration stance and rolling his shoulders. With mild irritation, he offered the remark, then prepared to tear open the spatial realm and put an end to this life-threatening spar once and for all.