The cathedral stood in decay, a ruin of its former grandeur. Towering gothic pillars, cracked and eroded by time, lined the vast hall, their once-pristine engravings now defaced by war and neglect. The air was thick with dust and dying embers, the last remnants of torches flickering against shattered stained-glass windows. Colored light streamed through the fractures, casting fragmented patterns onto the cracked marble floors, a haunting display of something that had long lost its purpose.
At the center of the ruin, three figures stood.
Dark, standing as if he owned the world, arms lazily crossed, his black cloak draped over his shoulders, swaying ever so slightly from the unseen energy in the air. His crimson eyes flickered with disinterest as he shifted his gaze between the other two.
Ace, leaning against a broken pillar, arms folded, watching with a smirk. Amusement danced in his golden eyes, as if he were waiting for entertainment.
And then, there was Igor.
A towering figure, wrapped in dark purple aura, his mere presence exuding menace. His armor—jet black, layered with ancient engravings—shimmered under the dim cathedral light. His crimson visor burned through the shadows, glowing like the eyes of something not meant for this world.
He stood motionless. Silent. His aura bled into the air, thick and heavy, like a monster standing at the edge of reality.
Ace: I have a little something for you, Dark.
Dark sighed, already knowing where this was going.
Dark: If it's another one of your 'fun' ideas, I swea-
Ace: (cutting Dark) It's a duel. You and Igor.
Dark: ...You're actually serious?
Ace: Dead serious.
Dark exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.
Dark: No. That's stupid.
Igor finally moved. Just slightly. His head turned toward Dark.
Igor: My emperor, if I am to serve you, I must know if you are worthy of my loyalty. Strength defines leadership. I cannot follow a weak king.
Dark's gaze sharpened, his fingers tapping against his own forearm.
Dark: You saying I have to prove myself to you?
Igor: I am saying I will not kneel for someone who cannot crush me under their might.
Ace's smirk widened.
Ace: Oh, I like this guy.
Dark rolled his shoulders, his annoyance replaced by something else.
Dark: Fine. You want proof?
He stepped forward, the air around him shuddering as his presence intensified.
Dark: Then come get it.
Ace grinned, stepping between them.
Ace: Good. Let's get this started.
The Cathedral. The Duel.
Ace raised a hand. His voice rang through the ruins.
Ace: Three.
Dark's fingers flexed, and Kyuketsu slithered into existence. The blade, formed from living darkness, shifted and morphed into a black katana, pulsating with an eerie crimson glow.
Igor, unfazed, placed both hands on his greatsword—God Killer. A massive, ancient weapon, dark purple engravings pulsing with an otherworldly light. The blade itself looked like it had been forged to end divinity.
Ace: Two.
The ground trembled. Not from an earthquake, but from the pressure building between them. The cathedral walls groaned, stone pillars cracking further, dust falling like snowflakes in slow motion.
Ace: One.
Then—everything exploded.
BOOM.
Dark and Igor vanished.
Then—impact.
They collided mid-air, their blades slamming into each other with a force that made the entire cathedral shudder. The shockwave was so violent that the remaining stained-glass windows shattered into dust, raining fragments down as the entire structure buckled under the weight of their clash.
Ace had already leaped back, standing on a broken archway, watching from afar, his arms crossed.
Ace: Not bad.
Dark and Igor reappeared, clashing again.
Again.
Again.
Each strike sent black and purple energy ripping through the battlefield, tearing apart everything in its wake. Every **disappearance and reappearance left behind streaks of color—**Dark's a trail of black and crimson, Igor's a deep, abyssal violet.
Their speed was beyond human comprehension.
Then—they reappeared on the ground.
Dark pressed forward, his katana grinding against Igor's greatsword, pushing him downward.
Igor's knee slammed into the stone.
Cracks webbed out beneath him.
He was using both hands.
Dark? One.
The power difference was brutal.
Igor's visor flickered, his breathing sharp. Dark's katana hovered inches from his helmet, the pressure crushing down on him.
But then—Dark did something unexpected.
He let go.
Kyuketsu dropped.
In the same instant, Igor's greatsword thrust forward, impaling straight through Dark's chest.
SkkkrrRCH!
The sound of flesh being split. Bone being crushed. Organs rupturing.
Blood exploded from Dark's back, spraying onto the stone. Chunks of flesh and muscle dripped from the blade, torn apart by the sheer force of the stab. The stench of blood and iron flooded the air.
Igor froze.
Dark's body shuddered slightly—but his face?
Completely blank.
Blood dripped from his lips. He looked directly into Igor's visor.
Dark: ...That it?
Igor's hands tightened around the handle.
Igor: ...You should be dead.
Dark: Yeah. You'd think.
Then—Dark grabbed the blade.
Igor flinched.
Squelch.
Dark ripped it deeper into himself. The blade, already impaling him, sank further in, splitting more of his ribcage apart. More blood poured from his mouth, but his expression never wavered.
Igor: ...What—
BOOM.
Dark's knee drove into Igor's gut.
The force sent him flying, smashing through a dozen pillars. The cathedral collapsed further, raining debris as Igor crashed into the ground, leaving a crater beneath him.
Dark, still impaled, slowly pulled the sword out of himself.
Gush.
More blood sprayed out, coating the ground.
Dark rolled his shoulders, completely unbothered, his wound sealing itself slowly.
Dark: Cute trick.
The battlefield was nothing but ruins now. The once-great cathedral had been reduced to dust, its gothic pillars shattered, its stained-glass windows obliterated. Smoke and debris clouded the air, thick with the stench of blood and fire.
Igor stood, barely holding himself together. His armor was cracked, his dark purple aura flickering erratically, as if it were struggling to stay alive. Blood leaked from the countless wounds across his body, staining the ground beneath him.
Dark stood opposite him, completely unfazed, as if he hadn't just torn a hole through Igor's chest. His cloak was drenched in blood, his black katana still dripping with crimson, but his expression remained the same—bored, unimpressed.
Dark: You're still standing. That's cute.
Igor's breathing was sharp, his grip tightening on God Killer. His entire body was screaming at him to fall, to submit, but his pride wouldn't let him.
Igor: My emperor... I will not... kneel.
Dark exhaled through his nose, tapping Kyuketsu against his shoulder.
Dark: You're really making me work for this, huh? Fine. Let's finish it.
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
Igor barely had time to react before Dark was already behind him, his blade flashing through the air. Instinct took over—Igor spun, bringing his greatsword up just in time to block the strike. The force behind it sent him skidding back, his feet carving trenches into the ground.
Dark followed up immediately, vanishing and reappearing above Igor, bringing his katana down in a vertical slash. Igor threw up his sword again, sparks flying as the weapons clashed. The impact sent another shockwave through the ruins, the ground beneath them shattering further.
Igor retaliated, swinging God Killer in a wide arc, its sheer weight splitting the air apart. Dark ducked, the blade narrowly missing his head, and countered with a vicious upward slash. Igor barely dodged, the tip of the katana slicing through his shoulder, blood spraying from the wound.
But he didn't stop.
He drove his knee forward, slamming it into Dark's ribs with enough force to send him flying back. Dark twisted midair, landing smoothly, his feet sliding against the debris. He let out a low chuckle, shaking off the impact.
Dark: Now that's more like it.
Igor didn't hesitate. He surged forward, his aura flaring wildly, his greatsword burning with dark energy. He swung with everything he had, the sheer force of his attack bending the air around it.
Dark stood still, waiting until the last possible second—then sidestepped effortlessly.
Igor's blade missed, carving a deep trench into the ground, and before he could recover, Dark moved. His katana morphed in an instant, shifting into a jagged spear, and he drove it straight into Igor's stomach.
The spear pierced through his armor, through his flesh, and erupted from his back in an explosion of blood.
Igor coughed violently, crimson spilling from his mouth. His grip on God Killer trembled.
Dark leaned in, his voice calm, almost disappointed.
Dark: You're strong. But not enough.
He twisted the spear.
Igor's entire body convulsed. His vision blurred, his strength fading, but still—he refused to drop.
Dark yanked the spear out, letting Igor stumble back, blood gushing from the wound. He staggered, but his knees never touched the ground.
Dark clicked his tongue.
Dark: Seriously? You're still trying to stand?
Igor's breathing was ragged. Every muscle in his body was failing him, but he forced himself to keep going.
Igor: A knight... does not... fall so easily.
Dark stared at him for a long moment. Then, without a word, he threw Kyuketsu aside.
Igor's head lifted slightly, confusion flickering in his crimson visor.
Dark rolled his shoulders.
Dark: Fine. No more weapons. No more tricks. Let's see how long you last.
He moved first.
Before Igor could react, Dark was already in front of him, his fist slamming into his gut with a force that sent cracks splintering through the ground beneath them. Igor's body jolted, a choked gasp escaping him.
Then, another punch.
Then another.
Dark's blows landed with monstrous force, each impact reverberating through Igor's armor, denting it, breaking it. Blood splattered from the openings, painting the ground.
Dark: You're supposed to be a menace, right?
He drove his elbow into Igor's jaw, sending him staggering back.
Dark: Where'd all that strength go?
Igor's body ached, but he gritted his teeth and swung a desperate punch. Dark caught it with one hand.
Dark: Slow.
He twisted Igor's wrist, the sickening snap of bone echoing through the ruins.
Igor's grunt of pain barely left his lips before Dark kneed him in the ribs.
Dark: Weak.
Another hit—this time a palm strike to the chest.
Igor was launched backward, smashing through a pile of rubble. His body hit the ground hard, dust and blood filling the air around him.
He didn't get up.
Dark walked toward him, slow, deliberate.
Dark: This fight is over.
Igor's fingers twitched. He tried to push himself up. His strength was failing. His vision was dimming.
Dark stopped just in front of him.
Dark: Just stay down.
Igor, with the last of his strength, lifted his head.
Igor: Not yet.
Dark sighed.
Dark: Alright. You—
Before he could finish, Igor suddenly materialized mid-air, his dark purple aura burning like a living entity. His armor radiated power, each step carrying the weight of something more than just steel.
Then, impact.
Igor's heel crashed into Dark's chest, sending him flying backward like a missile. The sheer force of the kick tore through the air, creating a massive shockwave that obliterated the ground beneath them. Dark's body smashed through crumbling walls, broken pillars, and whatever remained of the ruined battlefield. Each impact left behind destruction, the land itself caving under the weight of their battle.
Dark: (thinking) That wasn't just power. He used precision, speed, timing. He knew exactly how to shift my balance. He's not just a walking tank.
Dust and debris clouded the air as Dark finally skidded to a stop, his boots dragging against the cracked earth. His ribs stung from the impact, but his expression didn't change. He exhaled through his nose, shaking off the pain like it was nothing.
From the wreckage, his vision sharpened, focusing on Igor.
Igor landed smoothly, his movements precise. Step by step, he advanced toward Dark, his massive greatsword resting on his shoulder. There was no wasted movement. No hesitation. Just the steady, predatory walk of a hunter closing in on its prey.
Dark's perspective zoomed in, his gaze locked on Igor, analyzing.
Dark: (thinking) He's different from the others I've fought. His stance, his aura—it's refined. He's not testing me anymore. He knows what I can do.
Dark rose to his feet, dust falling from his cloak. He lifted a hand, and in an instant, Kyuketsu materialized in his grasp.
But this time, it wasn't a katana.
A long, L-shaped pipe formed in his grip, solid and heavy.
Dark: (thinking) This should work. Good blocking mechanism. Strong blunt force. If his body is mostly metal or something similar, then cutting him won't be as effective. I'll need to shatter him piece by piece.
Igor's steps grew heavier. The way he carried himself, the way he adjusted his grip on God Killer—it was the movement of a master.
Dark: (thinking) I've never met Igor before. I don't know what his peak strength looks like. But there's one thing I can tell.
Igor moved his greatsword, resting it against his shoulder again as he walked.
Dark: (thinking) His swordsmanship alone is at least a thousand times greater than mine. He's built for combat. His technique, his movement, all of it is refined. The only thing keeping me from getting torn apart is my raw speed, my regeneration, and my strength.
Igor's strides became longer, each one carrying more weight.
Igor: (thinking) Dark's power surpasses mine. That much is clear. His punches earlier shattered my core twice over, but thanks to my ancient artifact, Regenerative Armor, I survived.
Igor's crimson visor flickered, his systems scanning Dark's stance, his breathing, his movements. Every minor detail was being recorded.
Then, they both lunged.
The impact shook the battlefield, the sheer force of their clash causing the land beneath them to crack and split apart. Dark swung the pipe in a wide arc, aiming for Igor's ribs.
Igor twisted his body at the last second, deflecting the attack with his armored forearm, but the sheer force behind Dark's swing sent a shockwave through his armor.
Cracks formed.
Dark: (thinking) It worked.
Igor retaliated immediately. His greatsword cut through the air like a guillotine, aiming to cleave Dark in half.
Dark sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blade, feeling the wind pressure scrape against his skin. He countered instantly, bringing the pipe down with a brutal swing toward Igor's shoulder.
Igor shifted his stance, letting the attack glance off his pauldron, then countered with a knee strike aimed at Dark's gut.
Dark reacted on instinct, twisting his body and bringing up the pipe to block, using the curve of the L-shape to absorb the impact. The force still sent him sliding back, but he remained standing.
Dark: (thinking) He's fast. Not as fast as me, but fast enough to predict where I'll be. His technique is ridiculous. Every movement has a purpose.
Igor: (thinking) His adaptability is dangerous. He's reading my movements, adjusting mid-fight. If I don't break his rhythm, he'll overwhelm me.
Igor took a half-step back, lowering his stance.
Dark caught the shift immediately.
Dark: (thinking) He's going for something big.
Igor exploded forward.
Dark barely had time to react before Igor was already in front of him, his greatsword swinging with terrifying force.
Dark raised the pipe to block—
The impact sent him flying.
His body crashed through multiple layers of rubble, the force sending a thunderous boom across the battlefield.
Dark rolled, flipping mid-air, planting his feet against a broken pillar and launching himself back at Igor at full speed.
Dark closed the gap instantly, swinging the pipe at Igor's head.
Igor ducked, then countered with an upward slash.
Dark twisted his body, avoiding the blade by inches, then slammed his knee into Igor's side, targeting the cracked armor.
Igor staggered slightly, but retaliated with an elbow to Dark's ribs.
The force sent Dark stumbling back a few steps.
They stood across from each other again, blood dripping from their wounds, their breathing heavier but controlled.
Dark wiped his mouth, smirking slightly.
Dark: I gotta admit, you hit like a truck.
Igor rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on his greatsword.
Igor: And you recover like a demon.
Dark spun the pipe in his hand, exhaling slowly.
Dark: Ready for round two?
Igor's visor flickered.
Igor: I was waiting for you to say that.
Then, they both vanished.
The silence lasted for less than a fraction of a second before the battlefield erupted again.
Dark and Igor reappeared mid-air, their weapons colliding with a force that sent shockwaves rippling outward, tearing through the air like a storm of destruction. Sparks rained as metal clashed against metal, their movements so fast that the naked eye could barely keep up.
Dark: (thinking) His swings are faster than before. He's adjusting to my speed.
Igor: (thinking) His reaction time is ridiculous. He sees every attack coming.
Igor twisted his greatsword mid-swing, redirecting Dark's pipe and forcing an opening. He went for a downward strike, his blade aimed to split Dark clean in half.
Dark barely managed to react, bringing up the L-shaped pipe to intercept the attack. The impact was devastating, the sheer weight behind Igor's blade forcing Dark's feet to slam into the ground, sending cracks splintering outward.
Dark: (thinking) That almost cut through. His strength isn't just raw power—he's using the weight of his weapon to maximize the impact.
Igor wasted no time, pressing forward. He swung horizontally, aiming to take Dark's head off. Dark ducked, his body moving on instinct, and retaliated with a brutal counterattack. The pipe crashed into Igor's ribs again, this time deepening the cracks in his armor.
Igor barely flinched.
Igor: (thinking) He's targeting the weak spots. He's figured out that my armor isn't invincible.
Dark: (thinking) One more good hit in the same spot and I'll break that armor completely.
Dark spun the pipe in his grip, shifting his stance. His speed suddenly increased, his movements turning erratic, unpredictable. Igor's visor flickered as he tried to track Dark's positioning, but the sheer speed made it impossible to predict where the next attack would come from.
Then Dark struck.
A feint to the left, baiting Igor's block—then a sharp twist to the right, bringing the full force of the pipe against the already damaged section of Igor's armor.
Crack.
A chunk of the plating shattered, exposing the damaged core beneath.
Igor's aura flared violently.
Igor: (thinking) He's fast. Too fast. I have to reset the pace.
Igor suddenly stopped attacking and stepped back. Dark lunged in immediately, closing the gap—
And that's when Igor struck.
He let go of his sword with one hand and punched Dark square in the face.
Dark barely saw it coming. The force behind the hit was monstrous, sending him flying back at full speed, crashing through ruined stone and broken structures.
Dark: (thinking) That was bait. He let me get close so he could land a clean hit.
Dark barely had time to recover before Igor was already above him, greatsword raised, ready to bring it down like a guillotine.
Dark twisted mid-air, spinning his pipe to block—
But the moment their weapons met, Igor altered the trajectory of his swing mid-motion, bypassing Dark's defense entirely.
Dark: (thinking) He predicted my block.
The blade sliced into Dark's side, cutting deep, tearing through muscle and bone. Blood sprayed into the air, painting the ruins in crimson.
But Dark didn't flinch.
Instead, he grinned.
Dark: Nice one.
Before Igor could react, Dark's grip on his pipe tightened—and he swung it upward with brutal force, slamming it into Igor's chin.
Igor's entire body was launched into the air.
Dark didn't stop.
He leapt after him, appearing above Igor mid-flight, then slammed the pipe downward with enough power to send Igor crashing into the ground at blinding speed. The impact formed a massive crater, dust and debris shooting up like an explosion.
Dark landed at the edge of the crater, rolling his shoulders.
Dark: (thinking) He's tough as hell. But I can tell—he's starting to slow down.
Then the dust cleared.
Igor was still standing.
Dark: ...Oh?
Igor's visor flickered, and his body straightened. His aura, instead of weakening, only grew stronger.
Dark: (thinking) Wait. What is this?
Then, Igor's entire body began to repair itself.
Dark's eyes narrowed. The cracks in his armor were sealing, the wounds disappearing, the exposed core regenerating at an alarming speed.
Dark: (thinking) His Regenerative Armor... it's not just healing his body. It's resetting his entire structure.
Igor stepped forward, rolling his shoulders.
Igor: Round two.
Dark exhaled sharply, spinning the pipe in his grip.
Dark: So that's how it is, huh?
Then, they clashed again.
The force of their battle sent shockwaves rippling through the ruins, their movements now faster, more precise, more brutal. Every attack carried killing intent. Every dodge was razor-thin.
Dark feinted left, then struck right.
Igor saw through it, twisting his blade to counter.
Dark reversed his momentum mid-air, flipping behind Igor in an instant.
Igor adapted, shifting his stance, slamming his elbow into Dark's ribs.
Dark coughed blood, but retaliated instantly, swinging the pipe down at full force.
Igor blocked with his forearm—
Crack.
Another piece of armor shattered.
Dark smirked.
Dark: Got you.
Before Igor could react, Dark grabbed his collar and headbutted him straight in the visor.
Igor staggered.
Dark twisted his body, swung the pipe—
The impact sent Igor flying, crashing into the ruins.
Dark: (thinking) I need to push the advantage before his armor regenerates again.
He dashed forward, appearing at Igor's side in an instant.
But this time, Igor was ready.
He countered.
A devastating slash tore through the air, catching Dark's chest and splitting it open.
Blood poured.
Dark's vision flickered for a moment—
Then he grinned.
Dark: That all?
Igor's grip on his greatsword tightened.
Igor: You should not be able to stand after that.
Dark wiped blood from his mouth.
Dark: And yet, here I am.
Then, they both vanished again, their battle escalating to even greater heights.
To Be Continued....
End Of Arc 5 Chapter 4.