Sunny didn't waste any time, the shadows forged a sword that went straight into his hands as he jumped in front of the girl.
"Don't just stand there! Run already!"
He didn't have time to look back to see if she did as he flew forward at one of the tyrant's minions. It was absolutely grotesque, an abomination with the eyes of a spider and the body of what seemed to be the mix of what he would assume goblins to look like as well as what he would expect a boar to look like. A hairy beast that stood on two legs but looked as if it was mutilated. The tyrant was even worse, it bore a similar look but much worse. It was as if an orc and a boar had mixed, but that mixture had fallen into radiation as its body seemed to be bubbling, steam escaping these bubbles around its body. Yet by the time he reached one of its minions those thoughts dispersed from his mind. Bringing the sword down towards its neck he let it dig as deep as he could before swinging it up, shaving off half of its head. In the distance he could see Nephis's flames burning many of the creatures as she rushed at the tyrant. Commanding the shadows to stir, they wrapped around a dozen of the thralls' legs, holding them in place as he swung down at their heads one by one like a lumberjack coming down on wood. Making quick time of it he only took around four seconds for each, but even that was still too slow. Then he saw it... Nephis reached the tyrant only for one of those grotesque bubbles to release what seemed to be pressurized vapor, making her fly away, crashing into a wall. A foul stench came with the steam as if hundreds of dead bodies that hadn't been digested yet were releasing all of their smell at once. Shadows wrapped around his nose, holding it shut. Then a burning sensation came from his eyes as the vapor seemed to get in them. It was as if it was instant... this wasn't gas, no, it was some sort of poison. Rushing at the tyrant, he attempted to thrust his sword into its neck only to be met with a bubble beginning to build up. Jumping back, he tried to flank at the other side, only for this time the tyrant to swing its monstrous arm right into his ribs. By the time he made impact with the ground he already knew his ribs were broken and probably more. Then flames started to appear on where his ribcage would be, the pain slowly fading away like a barrel being washed away by a river. Nephis was already upon the tyrant, but by the time she was close its arms were already in the air, slamming down onto her. Yet that didn't stop her... no, rather she used that impact to thrust her sword into the tyrant's shoulder while it couldn't defend itself. Yet it didn't matter as another bubble exploded, sending her back. For the first time the tyrant left its spot and ran at her, barraging her with slams, her body being rag-dolled constantly with no chance to fight back.
He couldn't... no, they couldn't win like this. Summoning a memory, a sword that seemed as plain as could be came about. Something you would probably see medieval knights carry, yet his earlier stance changed. Sticking his sword into the ground, he let out a scream to gain the tyrant's attention, and it worked. Nephis laid there bloody and broken, but she still didn't stop trying to fight. A burst of flames leapt out at it, causing it to let out a roar. That singular moment bought him enough time to be at its side, swinging the sword into its side. Due to the immense belly fat it could only dig in so far, yet it didn't matter. As the tyrant brought its raging fist down on him, he took it. Jumping up to meet it, he used his leg to take the brunt of the hit. It broke instantly, twisting unnaturally. Yet he still stood. The tyrant then let a gas bubble form, the vapor jetting out, yet he did not move, still digging his sword deeper in. That's when Nephis noticed he was using shadows to keep his feet stuck to the ground as if they were clamps. He glared up at the tyrant, its scream almost being drowned out by his as his bloody and battered face bit into the wound he inflicted, ripping a chunk of flesh off. This time it jumped back, and what it saw was a bigger monster than itself.
---
Nephis was slowly but surely healing, though her wounds were so severe that it would take a while. Her legs were broken and so were her arms, her nose broken and her insides probably looked like the innards of a cherry pie. Yet she couldn't focus on the pain as she admired... no, admired wouldn't be the right word. She couldn't focus on the pain as she absorbed the fight in front of her. Sunny's body was currently in a worse condition than hers was, most likely because the tyrant was in a rage now. Yet his feet didn't leave the spot he was in once other than the time he used his leg to meet the tyrant's strike. Hacking away, he let his body be mutilated. That's when she remembered the talk they had before they fought about her reckless fighting, the talk about his second battle art, the little speech he gave about dreams and substance. She realized what this truly was.
It was the battle art of a hypocrite.
---
Letting the shadows around his feet disperse, he jumped back, but now the tides were different, both him and the tyrant were on death's door. Now it was all about who would get the finishing blow first. The tyrant began to run, though much slower, before tripping over its own legs. Sunny also rushed, bringing his sword up. Though he didn't swing it, or stab it, or even attempt to block. No, rather he threw it straight at the tyrant. It hit the beast straight in its forehead, though only the tip was stuck in—that was the plan. The tyrant was in a blind rage and couldn't focus on the sword slightly stuck in its head, so as it rushed Sunny jumped, taking the hit to his one good leg, using that opportunity to slam the sword in. By the time the tyrant registered what happened it was already dead. His vision was fading, yet he could see a bright light consuming his body, it was like a warm embrace... he felt like he was drifting down a river. Falling back, his head didn't reach the ground as he was caught by Nephis. She still wasn't fully healed either... they won by luck, there was no other reason. If even one of those hits had managed to be an instant death for either of them, they would have lost. His mind started to fade, yet a voice rung out.
[You have..
[You have..