Back to Zéno's Fight
Blood coated Demba's fists, still dripping from the wound on his chest. A surge of spiritual energy flared around him like a living flame. He raised his head, locking eyes with Zéno, the fire of battle burning in his gaze.
His arms suddenly lit up, and in a flash, two golden metal gauntlets appeared, covering his forearms entirely. He took a fighting stance, his mouth curling into a confident smirk.
— Don't disappoint me, Zéno, he said calmly, but with a spark of excitement.
Zéno didn't reply. He dashed forward, straight at Demba. The latter didn't hesitate—he threw a punch to meet him head-on. But Zéno slipped past it with ease and countered with a slash of his sword. This time, however, Demba didn't even try to dodge. He blocked the blade with his armored fists.
"So his fists can block my attacks... but are they just for defense?" Zéno thought as sparks flew from the impact.
Demba lunged, unleashing a flurry of punches like a storm. Zéno danced through the onslaught, dodging and parrying without taking a single hit. But Demba didn't let up. His pressure was relentless. Eventually, Zéno jumped back to gain some distance and reassess the situation.
"His punches don't seem special at first glance…"
But then, something changed.Zéno's sword suddenly felt heavy. Unnaturally so. His grip tightened, his arm trembling slightly. It was as if the blade had turned to stone. He looked up. Demba was still smiling—clearly, this was no coincidence.
— Looks like you're catching on, Demba chuckled.
— So this is your Brand, Zéno replied, narrowing his eyes.
— Exactly, Demba confirmed. It's called HeavyPunch. Every time one of my punches lands, the weight of what I hit doubles. You blocked me eight times. Assuming your sword weighs around one kilo, it should be over 250 now.He tilted his head mockingly.— Good luck swinging that thing.
But Zéno had already vanished.
— Where did he—?
Demba turned instinctively—and there he was. Zéno, sword raised, ready to strike. He brought the blade down in a clean vertical arc. Demba leapt back just in time. The blade hit the ground with a deafening crack, shattering the stone beneath it under the sheer weight.
— I'm impressed, Demba said, unfazed. Didn't expect you to wield that thing with such weight. But don't forget—next time it'll weigh half a ton. Then a full ton. And if I hit your body, your limbs will get heavier too. Eventually, you won't even be able to move. That's when I finish you off.
— Tch. This fight's far from over, Zéno growled.
Without warning, he slashed his own palm and let blood drip onto the ground. He quickly drew strange symbols with it, then placed a scroll on the ground. His voice rose in chant.
— Pure light pierce the darkest night… Radiant sun, birth the shadow's flight…
— Like hell I'm letting you finish that! Demba roared and charged straight at him.
But just as he threw his punch—Zéno was gone again.
— That damn trick again?! Demba shouted, spinning around.
There he was—Zéno, standing exactly where he had started. Calm, composed, still chanting:
— Wailing wind, unleash your sorrow… Sacred skies, bring down your fury…— Mantra Level 3: URANO METRIA!
The sky above them blackened in an instant. Dark clouds swirled with unnatural speed, crackling with impending doom. Demba looked up, realizing it was too late to run. He summoned all his spiritual energy and crossed his arms to brace himself.
A blinding light burst from the sky. Then a massive beam of energy tore through the clouds and slammed straight into Demba.
— Aw, shit… Demba muttered, just before the impact.
The blast crashed down with terrifying force, obliterating nearby buildings and shaking the earth across a full kilometer.
Meanwhile, miles away, Ikku and the others felt the tremor under their feet. They all turned instinctively toward the direction of the explosion.
— Sounds like they're having fun over there, Shu commented, eyes still fixed on the distant battlefield.— Unfortunately for you, not even the Angel of Death stands a chance against Demba.
— Hate to break it to you, Ikku replied, steadying himself, but Master Zéno doesn't lose.
— Exactly, added Kenny. You should be more worried about yourself.*
— Fine then, Shu said, cracking his knuckles. No mercy it is.
He rushed toward them.Round two was about to begin.