〘𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓〙
⟦The earth still quaked beneath the aftermath of their last clash. Xorath stood, chest rising and falling with steady rhythm, blood splattered across his armor, blade in hand, aura flickering with restrained violence. Across from him, Cleaving—one arm missing, blood flowing freely—threw his head back and laughed like a mad beast. The battlefield was littered with shattered stone, broken earth, smoldering craters where their powers had collided. The wind carried dust and smoke, and even the moon above seemed smeared crimson, as though watching this duel with dread.⟧
『Cleaving』 ⦅Now… it's time to die, kiddo!⦆
〔His words roared across the battlefield, cracked with pain, yet alive with sheer unrelenting fury. His remaining hand tightened into a fist, his body lunging forward with murderous intent. His aura flared into a crimson storm, wild and rabid.〕
⟦The ground beneath Cleaving shattered as he surged forth. Each step sent shockwaves racing outward, cracks splintering in jagged paths across the battlefield. His teeth gnashed, eyes wide with lunacy, blood dripping from the torn shoulder where his arm had been severed. To any ordinary man, the sight was terror incarnate: a wounded monster still charging with the will to kill.⟧
『Xorath』 ⦅…⦆
〔Silent. His gaze sharpened, his breathing slowed. His hand pressed more firmly on the hilt of his blade. And then—time itself obeyed his command.〕
⟦Just as Cleaving's fist swung down, just as the wild aura burned hottest, a deafening silence tore across the world. The roar of destruction, the thunder of footsteps, even the groan of the fractured earth—everything froze. Dust halted in the air, particles hanging like scattered stars, each one caught between existence and nothing. Cleaving's feral expression locked in place, his mouth open in mid-roar, his fist inches away.⟧
𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊
⟦The world's heartbeat stopped.⟧
『Xorath』 ⦅Seven minutes… within ninety meters. That's all I need.⦆
〔His voice, calm and unshaken, drifted into the unnatural stillness. He stepped forward, each motion deliberate, as though wading through the ocean of frozen air. His boots crunched against fractured stone, yet even the sound was muffled by the distortion of halted time.〕
⟦Around him, the battlefield had become a sculpture of violence: shards of rock suspended, Cleaving's fist captured mid-swing, crimson droplets caught like jewels of blood in midair. Xorath walked slowly, deliberately, every footstep echoing with control. For him, there was no rush. He had seven eternal minutes.⟧
『Xorath』 ⦅You were strong… but strength alone doesn't decide fate.⦆
〔His eyes narrowed. He lifted his blade and walked directly up to Cleaving's frozen form. Each second was heavy, stretching into eternity. His aura pulsed—controlled, refined, lethal.〕
⟦He stopped within arm's reach of Cleaving. The madman's eyes, wide and bloodthirsty, seemed to stare through Xorath even while time was sealed. Xorath tilted his head slightly, studying his enemy's frozen expression. There was defiance there, madness there… but no caution. Cleaving had leapt with all he had, reckless to the end.⟧
『Xorath』 ⦅Your fury ends here.⦆
⟦The air shivered as he raised his blade. The aura surrounding him condensed, burning black light swallowing the battlefield in a dim glow. Then his voice, steady and low, invoked the spell.⟧
𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖘 𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖓
⟦For a heartbeat, silence stretched. Then the world screamed. Xorath's blade ignited with otherworldly energy, arcs of black fire dancing along the edge. He slashed—not once, not twice, but in an unseeable cascade of movements that tore across Cleaving's body. The still air shredded under the force, each stroke burning through the frozen time-space.⟧
⟦Holes erupted across Cleaving's form—massive, gaping wounds punched through flesh and armor alike. His chest tore open in grotesque patterns, his torso riddled with burning voids. Where the blade passed, flesh disintegrated into smoldering embers, leaving nothing but hollow darkness carved into him.⟧
〔Xorath's eyes stayed cold, unyielding.〕
⟦The slashes continued until the monster was more hole than body, his roar forever trapped in frozen air. And then—Xorath stopped. He lowered his blade. His aura dimmed.⟧
『Xorath』 ⦅…This is the end, Cleaving.⦆
⟦As the final second of his spell collapsed, time surged back into motion. The roar that had been caught mid-breath released—but only as a wet, gurgling gasp. Cleaving's body convulsed as the countless holes carved through him bled torrents of crimson. His fist, once so mighty, fell short by inches. His eyes, wild with hate, dulled in an instant.⟧
〔Shock, disbelief, then nothing.〕
⟦The monster staggered, his strength gone. His body, unable to withstand the devastation, fell backward. The battlefield shook as his massive frame crashed to the ground. Dust exploded upward, covering everything in a gray shroud.⟧
『Xorath』 ⦅Rest in silence.⦆
〔His tone was low, almost ritualistic. He turned away, his blade dripping with the remnants of fire, his aura settling back into stillness.〕
⟦Behind him, Cleaving's corpse smoldered. The holes burned with residual energy, smoke rising from the monstrous body that had once threatened to overwhelm him. And then—silence reclaimed the battlefield, heavy and absolute.⟧
⟦Thus ended Cleaving, the mad brute who roared too loud, struck too recklessly, and faced a spell far beyond his comprehension.⟧
———
〘𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕 𝐄𝐍𝐃〙
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