Chapter 454 - Brink, Threshold, And Edge

While falling in midair, he continued to utilize his enhanced senses to evade the bolts of razor water, disappearing and reappearing at different spots within the air while traversing through the shadows. 

He allowed his body to fall limp, only moving through repeated steps across the shadows as he only prioritized dodging the cutting rain. 

"...Hear me, those who seek the absence of light…" He began to chant, exhibiting an unbecoming calmness. 

The moment the incantation began, his mana signature flared; coating his body, shadows stretched out and moved with the stormy winds. 

Even while weaving the great magic through his words and focus, he continued to evade through elusive shadows; it was a feat beyond anything he had attempted before, but backed into a corner--it came naturally. 

"Grant me the essence of the truth, the original darkness that cast over the primordial soil." 

"Simultaneous cast", it was something Donatien had given him a lesson on, but he drove it in that it was such a rarity among mages that it couldn't be accounted for by the average user of magecraft. 

Even so, here he was. 

It was a feat only possible through his mastery of 'Shadow Step', and his natural, instinctual usage of it. 

With the climax of the great magic being steadily approached upon, the coalescence of darkness around him began to send tremors through the mud; ripples formed and waves cascaded. 

After all of the failed attempts to catch him with independent shots of rain, the hidden champion upped the ante. 

All at once, it seemed the immediate rainfall around him all shifted into the malicious bullets manipulated by the rain-hidden champion. 

Just as the thousands of water-based blades propelled towards him with inescapable violence, he raised his hand to the air as the colossal aura around him centered in his palm. 

"...Let us return the world to that former era, the endless night: Araphel Pandemonium!"

As the large, humming sphere of great magic was held in his hand, the champion retreated from his stealthy position amongst the rain, reforming into a solid state as he rebuilt himself from water, back into black steel. 

Without any hesitation, he tossed the conjured sphere of great magic directly into the space above him, aiming his attack at the storm itself while the Stormfallen champion kept his distance. 

That's right! Watch as I rip away your advantages! He thought. 

Hurling through the cold air, the spiraling sphere of darkness consumed all of the rain in its path, releasing a torrent of shadowy wind that eradicated any nearby moisture, as well. 

He watched as it ascended while blood seeped from his eviscerated body, waiting for it to reach a certain point before he clenched his fist tightly:

"Araphel: Detonation!" 

Amidst the barren sky, devoid of stars or beauty, the great magic dissolved into a volatile detonation, losing its form as a massive ignition of darkness cascaded through the storm-filled air above. 

Even the quiet Stormfallen champion was forced to look up as a shock wave of steam propelled through the once cold air above, filling it with a steaming heat that evaporated the rainfall in full. 

He stood with a slight smile, huffing as sweat and blood mixed over his pale skin; trailing from his nose, crimson continued to run in a deepened shade. 

"I took a gamble, and it seemed to pay off," he said through a heavy breath, "that rain was your doing, wasn't it? Even if it wasn't...it was definitely made from some sort of spell, there's no denying that. At the end of the day, all I had to do was eradicate it." 

Allowing his left arm to fall to his side, he turned slightly to hide the fact it fell completely limp; holding his composure in front of the champion. He kept the handle of his blade tightly held in his mud-and-blood soaked, right hand, huffing quietly as he felt a mixture of residual rain, blood, and sweat trail his forehead. 

It seems using Pandemonium after all of this time isn't exactly sitting pretty with my body. After all of the cuts and blood loss, it seems the sudden usage of mana through the arm I used to cast the spell has backfired a bit. Still...I'd say I've evened the playing field now. Even if he tries to re-cast the rain, I can use that moment to land a decisive blow, he thought, I have to find a way around those crazy reflexes of his--even with that giant sword in his hand, he's as swift as can be. I won't land a blow on him by conventional means. 

As the cloud of residual, volatile darkness hung over them, he drew in a sharp breath through his parted lips, keeping his eyes focused on the greatsword-wielding goblin who held his still stance. 

For a further moment, they both stood their ground, holding their blades high without any lapse in their guard--until a single step forward was taken by the one clad in black steel. 

"Araphel: March of The Unseen…!" 

--It was just the moment he waited for; the split-second opening in the champion's defense that gave him the opportunity to strike. 

Vanishing into the shadows the moment the mystical words left his blood-soaked lips, a second passed without him being seen. 

This time, it was the Stormfallen champion left ignorant to the position of his enemy, standing in place as he wielded his white-steel blade like a shield in front of himself. 

--One.

--Two.

--Three.

--...Four. 

All at once, a quadra-set of slashes attacked the stoic champion from an unseen source; lifting his greatsword, he moved nimbly with his grand reflexes, managing to counter two of the slashes. 

However, two still landed, cutting past his armor and into his thigh, and the other taking a chunk from his left hip. It was enough of a blow dealt to momentarily make the champion keel over before he lifted himself, spilling blood from the massive gashes left by the instantaneous strikes. 

The snow-haired human reappeared from the shadows, directly behind the goblin champion as he went for one more strike--but he hesitated for a moment as a pulsation journeyed through his cranium. 

He froze for a moment, having to halt his attack and leap back as the champion swung his large blade backwards in a failed retaliation. 

As he landed on his feet, he held his head for a moment as blood flowed in further abundance from his nose, seeping from a vibrant crimson and into a deeper, flowing maroon. 

...I'm still not adjusted to that spell yet. It doesn't help that my brain was already overclocked by 'Particle Shade'...I have to be careful, he thought, no...I have to win. There is always a price to victory--this is it. 

None of it matters if I lose here. Everything I've done until now, the trials I've overcome, the experiences I've gained...losing here devalues all of that. That's why I'll win. 

It could be tasted as it fell over his lips; the running blood that seeped from his nose. The taste of it was death; a warning of it. 

He realized this just as the Stormfallen champion turned to face him, leaking black blood through the cuts that swept right through his decorated armor; even now, not a single word left the goblin's mouth as his resolve to fight didn't dwindle in the slightest. 

Without moving his arms, the champion swayed side-to-side before kicking off in an unorthodox sprint that suddenly shifted his form into that of water, making it challenging to predict his movements or even follow as his speed amplified. 

Faced with such an opponent, he chose to no longer restrain himself; it was a battle of life, or death. 

Matching his opponent's decision to shift into his natural element, he did the same as shadows coated his body. 

"Araphel: Dusk Waltz." 

Heightened to the apex of speed, the champion formed of mystical aqua, and the human formed and carried by roaring shadows, met blade-to-blade once more. 

As their blades, carried by reinforced elements, clashed this time, the mud split in a dozen directions; walls of the umber liquid raised by the force of their butting strength as the winds howled in retaliation. 

For some reason, amidst their dance of steel, a smile came over his face; not one of heroism or refound hope, but of joy. 

He laughed. 

To him, he didn't quite understand why, at first, questioning why in the face of a gateway that would either lead to the end of his road, or the continuation of it, he laughed out of joy. 

"It was fun," he realized. 

It wasn't a one-sided contest where he swiftly pulled away a victory, or was beaten-and-battered without a shining chance to be seen: it was a proper, equal battle that pushed him to his utmost, and he pushed his foe to their utmost. 

It's just like that time against the giant shaman; I'm enjoying myself. An equal contest...I forgot how fun it could be, he thought. 

A feeling he had forgotten in the never ending supply of challenges that Purgatory faced him up against. 

Maybe I really wrecked my brain a bit too much, he thought with a smile. 

Even so, the delight in their clash eased any anxiety that anchored his body as he fought, allowing him to guide his blade through the air with ease. 

No...it's the opposite. I feel it. That light, bubbling up and burning in my stomach; swirling with a torrent of seraphic flames. 

Just a bit more....push me a bit more, and I'll reach it again--"enlightenment", he thought.