Eamon was fighting with everything he had. Every muscle in his body was burning, every breath heavy, yet his movements were sharper than ever before. His newly gained strength flowed through him like fire. His feet moved faster, his swings carried more force, and his instincts felt almost unnatural.
And yet… it wasn't enough.
Haizer stood in front of him like an unmovable wall.
No matter how hard Eamon attacked, Haizer blocked everything with ease. His sword moved calmly, almost lazily, as if he wasn't even trying.
Eamon rushed forward, swinging his blade with full force. The strike was fast, powerful, and precise.
Haizer lifted his sword and blocked it with a single hand.
Clang.
The sound echoed loudly.
Eamon pushed harder, gritting his teeth. "Move… damn it!"
But Haizer didn't budge.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, almost amused.
"Is that all?" Haizer said softly.
Eamon jumped back, breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell as sweat dripped down his face. His grip on the sword tightened.
"That guy…" Eamon thought. "He's not even serious."
And then it hit him.
Even now… Haizer was holding back.
Eamon's attacks were faster than before. Stronger than before. But Haizer was matching them effortlessly. No strain. No urgency. No fear.
Eamon felt a chill run down his spine.
Still, he didn't stop.
He rushed forward again.
Haizer swung his sword downward. Eamon quickly dodged to the side, the blade barely missing him. The ground cracked where the sword hit.
Eamon used that moment.
He stepped behind Haizer and slammed the handle of his sword into Haizer's back with full force.
Thud.
The impact echoed.
Before Haizer could react, Eamon followed it up with a powerful kick straight to his side.
Haizer was sent flying into a tree.
The tree shook violently as Haizer crashed into it.
Eamon didn't hesitate.
"This is it!" he thought.
He charged forward, raising his sword high. His eyes burned with determination as he prepared to deliver the final blow.
"End this—!"
He brought the sword down with all his strength.
But—
Haizer stopped it.
With his bare hand.
Two fingers.
He held the blade between his fingers as if it was nothing more than a stick.
Everything went silent for a moment.
Eamon's eyes widened.
"What…?"
Haizer slowly lifted his head.
A grin spread across his face.
Not just a smile.
A smug, confident grin.
"You really thought you were going to win, didn't you, boy?" Haizer said, his voice calm but filled with mockery.
Eamon tried to pull his sword back—but it wouldn't move.
It was stuck.
As if Haizer's fingers were iron clamps.
"You bastard…" Eamon growled. "Just how strong are you?"
Haizer's grin widened.
"You are just too weak, boy."
Before Eamon could react—
Crack.
Haizer crushed the blade.
The sword broke in half right in his fingers.
Eamon's eyes widened in shock.
And then—
Boom.
Haizer kicked him straight in the chest.
The force was overwhelming.
Eamon was sent flying backward, crashing into the ground and rolling across the dirt before finally stopping.
Pain exploded through his body.
"Ugh…!"
He coughed, struggling to breathe.
His broken sword lay beside him.
Meanwhile, Damien was still fighting.
The soldiers surrounded him from all sides, their numbers refusing to decrease.
One soldier lunged forward with a spear. Damien stepped aside, grabbed the shaft, and pulled the soldier off balance before striking him down.
Another came from behind.
Damien spun around, blocking the attack and countering instantly.
But more kept coming.
"Seriously… how many of you are there…" Damien muttered under his breath.
At the same time, a few soldiers broke through.
They rushed toward Roneth.
Roneth saw them coming.
Even with his injuries, he stepped forward and blocked their path.
"Not happening," Roneth said, raising his swords.
The soldiers attacked together.
Roneth parried one, dodged another, and pushed forward with brute force. His movements were slower, but every strike was heavy and precise.
He managed to stop most of them.
But one soldier slipped past.
He ran straight toward Korran.
Korran froze.
The soldier raised his sword—
But before he could strike—
A blur of grey shot forward.
Skarn.
With a fierce growl, Skarn leaped onto the soldier and bit down on his arm.
"AAARGH!" the soldier screamed.
His sword dropped from his hand.
Skarn's jaws tightened, refusing to let go.
Roneth rushed forward immediately.
With one clean slash—
The soldier fell.
Roneth looked at Skarn for a brief second.
"Good boy," he said.
Skarn growled softly, standing protectively in front of Korran.
Back at the center of the battlefield—
Haizer was walking toward Eamon.
Slow.
Calm.
Confident.
Eamon struggled to get up. His body ached, his breath uneven. His hands trembled slightly.
Haizer stopped in front of him.
He raised his sword.
"Time to end this," Haizer said coldly.
He thrust the blade forward.
But just as the sword was about to pierce Eamon—
Boom!
A blast of fire erupted.
A powerful fire cannon shot straight into Haizer.
The impact was massive.
Haizer tried to block it, raising his sword to deflect the flames—but the force pushed him back, sending him sliding across the ground.
Smoke rose around him.
Eamon slowly stood up.
His fist was burning.
Flames wrapped around his hand like a living entity, swirling and crackling with energy.
He clenched his fist tightly.
"Sorry to disappoint," Eamon said, his voice steady despite his injuries, "but I had some flames up my sleeve."
Haizer stood up from the smoke.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and cracked his neck slightly.
Then he smiled.
"Hehe…" Haizer chuckled. "Now it's fun, boy."
His eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Let's raise havoc now."
And in the next second—
He charged.
Eamon didn't hesitate anymore.
He reached into his pocket-dimensional ring and pulled out his Vixterium sword.
The blade gleamed differently.
Sharper.
Deadlier.
He gripped it tightly.
This time—
He was ready.