"Wait a second... did he seriously just announce himself as Arshara's disciple?" The mercenary's voice sliced through the tavern's chatter like a sword, igniting a storm of astonishment and doubt.
"That can't be right. Raiking, the traitor, vanished into the unforgiving northern wilderness," another patron whispered, his trembling hands betraying his disbelief.
"Who else would dare to make such a daring claim under the heavens?"
To declare himself as Dawnfall's most legendary revolutionary—the one who defied destiny by breaking the boundaries of mortal cultivation—and also the man branded in the annals of history as the greatest betrayer... and then, to boldly speak Arshara's forbidden name in a crowded room was a reckless gamble.
If the man before them wasn't Raiking, he was merely a fool inviting death.
"Are you genuinely her disciple?" Dia'Tia demanded, her imposing figure shifting into a battle-ready stance.
"Why don't you find out?" Raiking replied with a casual air.
In a blink, he vanished, leaving only the faint whisper of disturbed air. He reappeared atop the tavern's icy roof, defying the laws of gravity. Moments later, the solid thud of boots heralded Dia'Tia's arrival on the rooftop of the building across the street.
"Feel free to attack whenever you're ready," Raiking invited, his hands hanging idly at his sides.
"Aren't you going to use your magic?" she inquired.
"I have no intention of killing you," he answered.
Dia'Tia let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Even if you are her disciple, it's foolish to underestimate your opponent."
Raiking remained silent, his eyes a cryptic void. For a lesser warrior, his chilling nonchalance would be terrifying, but for Dia'Tia, it signaled the ultimate challenge.
A wild, electrifying grin took over her face. "All right, then! I'll just have to extract the magic from you myself!"
Dia'Tia wasn't one to make baseless threats. She showed her determination by hurling her massive body straight at Raiking. Though she lacked lightning speed, her sheer, devastating mass more than compensated. The formidable aura enveloping her clenched fist illustrated precisely why the Giant Clan was revered as the supreme masters of body refinement. The sheer force of her impending strike could have razed a fortress to the ground.
But Raiking's power was forged from the very essence of the cosmos.
With a casual grace, he extended an open palm, effortlessly stopping her devastating punch with divine authority. The impact unleashed a concussive shockwave that shattered the rooftop tiles and swept across the tavern courtyard, sending mercenaries tumbling like fragile wheat caught in a storm.
"How can that be?!" a patron gasped incredulously.
"It's him... it must be Raiking!"
"Who else has the strength to match the Commander?"
"Match?" A seasoned fighter interjected, his voice quivering. "Open your eyes! He didn't even flinch. They're in entirely different leagues!"
While the mortal onlookers were lost in awe, Dia'Tia thrived. Her scarred face lit up with a radiant, battle-crazed smile. She had finally found her worthy opponent.
"You truly are strong!" she laughed.
In a heartbeat, the rooftop was deserted. They became spectral figures, exchanging blows across the moonlit sky. Without drawing a single blade, they engaged in a fierce, high-altitude battle of pure martial arts, their shifting positions revealed only by the sonic booms of their fists clashing mid-air.
Her foundation is solid, Raiking reflected, skillfully weaving through the fierce barrage. But her giant lineage weighs her down. She relies too much on her sheer size.
Deciding the aerial duel had reached its climax, Raiking shattered the deadlock. He spun around, his leg slicing through the air to connect with her massive, defensive wrist. The impact was explosive, propelling her out of the sky with a thunderous crash that echoed as she hit the cobblestone street, leaving a smoking crater behind.
Raiking didn't waste a second. He descended into the crater with her, transforming into an unstoppable tempest. He teleported from vantage point to vantage point, enveloping her in a whirlwind of rapid-fire blows.
"Never faced someone this fast before, have you?" he queried, his voice steady amidst the chaos as he drove a powerful left hook into her defenses.
"Y-you're the first," she stammered, her head snapping back under the relentless assault.
"Then consider this a battlefield," Raiking declared, his attacks pushing her into a frantic retreat. "When the archers take aim, how does the enemy respond?"
Suddenly, a spark of understanding ignited in the giant's eyes. With the riddle solved, she slammed her boot into the cobblestone street just as Raiking's fist blurred into motion.
The town thundered with the sound of a massive slab of earth ripping upwards to intercept the blow. Raiking's punch obliterated the rock in an explosion of gravel and dust, but the impact robbed him of his momentum. His fist emerged from the debris, only to be caught with precision by Dia'Tia's waiting hand. She had disrupted his rhythm at last.
"I hope the wisdom you've shared doesn't become your regret," she taunted, a wild excitement in her voice.
"Knowledge given but not absorbed is the only true disgrace to one's ancestors," Raiking replied, his eyes steady.
"Well spoken. Then as a true heir to my lineage, I shall not fail!"
She stomped once more, sending a powerful shockwave that lifted a massive stone to her chest level. Instead of bracing, she struck it with her open hand, launching the boulder with the deafening crack of a siege engine.
The sheer force and speed of the rock were beyond what Raiking could manage without defense.
He vanished in an instant.
But Dia'Tia's battle instincts were finely tuned to his energy. She stomped with ferocious power, causing hundreds of stones to float around her like a formidable arsenal. She had effortlessly become the hunter. No matter where Raiking's form reappeared, a relentless barrage of stone projectiles followed, leaving him no chance to retaliate.
---
In the heart of Greenhollow, the royal audience sat in the shadowy silence of the grand hall, their expressions betraying nothing but indifference at the raw power displayed before them. The scene unfolding in the soul-memory was a relic of a bygone age. Three millennia ago, achieving the Immortal Stage was nothing more than a fantastical dream, but now, ascended cultivators roamed the world in their thousands.
Yet, what truly seized the attention of Princess Aneller and Sir Lerikmen was the ideological clash depicted in the memory. Raiking, the legendary Ancestral Demon, known for his independence and lack of allegiance, was showing unexpected restraint. Instead of obliterating the vanguard commander of Dia'Tia, he was imparting crucial martial knowledge to his sworn adversary.
"Princess... could we have been mistaken about him?" Sir Lerikmen's voice wavered, a hint of awe breaking through his normally steady demeanor.
"I don't know..." Aneller's words faltered, as the truth of the scene challenged everything they had been led to believe.
The soul-memory shattered the myth of Raiking as a ruthless tyrant. If their historical archives had distorted this truth, how much else about the origins of the Great War had they misunderstood?
Before Aneller could delve further, Dia'Tia's voice interrupted the silence.
"Raiking, just skip ahead."
"Why should I?" Raiking countered, a sly grin playing on his lips.
"You know why," Dia'Tia insisted, her towering figure unusually tense, a rare sight for the mighty giantess.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Raiking responded confidently, his voice steady and unwavering.
"Easy for you to say," Dia'Tia muttered, discomfort evident in her usually unwavering demeanor.
The room crackled with an electric anticipation, not from the far-fetched idea of a mortal defeating the God of Death—that was never in question. Instead, it was Dia'Tia's unexpected unease that captivated everyone, as the most formidable giantess in history stood on edge. What unfolded next carried the weight of hidden truths, sparking curiosity about the events that Dia'Tia seemed eager to conceal.
The tension snapped like a taut wire as an unseen voice shattered the silence, echoing through the ages from a soul-memory projection that spanned three millennia.
"It is time to end this."
All eyes shifted from the flustered giantess back to the ethereal battleground, where the ancient duel was reaching its climactic moment. The God of Death's proclamation lingered in the air, an inevitable decree that heralded the dramatic conclusion of the duel.