His shadow extended like a giant sword, and Orestos responded by raising his shield to block, and the two strikes met in a flash that shook the entire theater, ushering in a new phase of the battle.
The clashing golden sparks and shadow tore the illusory theater to shreds, but neither stopped.
Darkis attacked with lines of shadow resembling thin whips, but so sharp that any contact with them left a crack on the golden shield. Orestos responded with heavy blows, each releasing a pressure wave that shattered the air before it.
Darkis bent to evade a cutting strike, then reached for the ground, and the black tiles began to crack, from every fissure emerged a solid phantom, resembling faceless soldiers, holding strange weapons. Spears from nowhere, and bows firing arrows of pure shadow. Orestos raised his shield, the arrows shattered against it, but he was forced to retreat half a step as he cut down the spears one by one.
< Orestos (to himself): "If I let him fill the theater... I'm finished."
He kicked the ground and shot forward with immense speed, his shield deflecting arrows while his sword cut down two shadow beings in a single strike. Darkis smiled, then detonated what remained of the ground beneath Orestos, causing the latter to land in a dark pit, but golden energy exploded from his body, pushing the shadows away as he jumped upward, spinning in the air and landing with a vertical strike that would have split Darkis in two.
But Darkis disappeared and appeared behind him, his shadow sword passing near Orestos's neck. The latter bent at the last moment and countered with a sideways strike that released a golden halo in the shape of two wings of light, pushing Darkis back and forcing him to stop.
The distance between them didn't last long. In a moment,each jumped toward the other, and they exchanged four blows in less than a second, each strike cutting shadows or shattering gold, and every collision generated a sound like shattering glass walls in a vast emptiness.
Darkis raised his hand, and the entire theater began to distort — the walls moved, the lights flickered, the ground flipped, as if they had entered
a completely different world. Now, Orestos was fighting not only his opponent, but the battlefield itself.
< Darkis: "Every step you take... I am the one writing it."
But Orestos responded with a powerful cry, and his shield released a golden halo that flooded the theater, forcing the shadows to contract.
Then he advanced, step by step, until he was directly in front of Darkis, and struck him a heavy blow that made his opponent retreat for the first time since the battle began.
Darkis laughed lightly, then extended his shadow sword forward, black energy gathering on its edge.
< Darkis: "So then... let's end the chapter."
The two charged, the collision was like two planets crashing, the resulting wave tore apart everything that remained of the illusory scene. And although
Orestos was still standing, the impact of the final blow made his right knee tremble.
It wasn't his fall yet, but... the balance of superiority had slowly tilted towards Darkis.
The air grew thinner. Every movement by Orestos required more effort than before, while Darkis's steps seemed lighter... and more precise.
The illusory theater began to reform, but this time, it wasn't just walls and lights, but a ceiling of darkness from which hung black ropes, moving like snakes, searching for an opening.
Orestos blocked one, cut the second, but the third wrapped around his leg, and the fourth grabbed his arm.
He released a golden burst that broke the bonds, but he didn't notice that Darkis had seized the moment and charged behind him.
The shadow strike pierced his defense, not reaching the heart, but opening a deep wound in his left side.
Orestos gasped, and blood began to seep beneath his shield. Yet, he responded with a counter-attack, a blow from top to bottom that collided with Darkis's sword, producing a tremendous spark.
< Orestos (to himself): "No... I will not fall now... not before I see them again."
But the subsequent blows were worse. Darkis was no longer fighting with just strength,but with rhythm, and every move was calculated to steal from Orestos a part of his strength... and a part of his will.
Every collision now left a deeper mark: a crack in the shield, a scratch on the arm, a heaviness in breathing. Even his great golden strikes became slower...and shorter in range.
And finally, with a powerful charge from Darkis, Orestos retreated backward, his left knee hitting the ground, then his right.
He was still holding onto his sword and shield, but every muscle in his body was screaming for rest.
Darkis stood before him, his shadow completely covering him.
< Orestos (in a broken voice): "It's not... over yet...".
A faint smile appeared on Darkis's face.
< Darkis: "But... you know... the end is closer than you think."
The scene froze at that moment: Orestos kneeling, bleeding, but refusing to drop his sword.
The shadows of the theater danced around him, as if celebrating an inevitable, coming victory.
Darkis took another step forward, the shadows around him tightening the noose on the space in which Orestes could move.
The golden sword trembled in his hand, his fingers trying to cling to the hilt despite the pain.
But he... had lost the rhythm.
He had lost the strength.
A sideways strike from Darkis pierced his defense, followed by a frontal charge that made the air slap his face with force.
The shock reverberated through his body, and his knees hit the ground, then... with no notable resistance, his body bent forward and fell completely onto the blood-soaked earth.
< A loud voice from afar: "Fatheeeer!!!!!"
It was the scream of Elios, mingled with shock and terror, filling the arena. His eyes widened as he saw his father sprawled out, and the black shadow looming like a sign of the end.
Darkis stood motionless, observing his fallen opponent, as if waiting... for the moment to close the curtain.
As for Orestos, he remained still, his breathing heavy, no one knew if he still possessed the strength to rise...
And here the chapter ends, leaving the arena suspended between death... or an unexpected return.