Beneath the five dark suns, two battles raged.
The first was a clash of goliaths, a war between beasts and monsters. Three lone eidolons, embodiments of divine wrath, faced an army of abominations spilling from beyond the obsidian mountains. Outnumbered beyond reason, they did not falter. They could not be defeated; they were the equals of gods themselves. The monsters could only struggle, only survive for fleeting moments before being hunted down and erased like all the others that had come before.
The second battle, though far more humble in scale, was no less mesmerizing. On the surface of the crimson sea fought two masters of battle: a young boy who had not aged since he was cast into this cursed realm Vale, who had lived through countless deaths, and the man who had delivered every one of those deaths. The chained man, weapons jutting like broken thorns from his body, had been Vale's executioner for uncountable cycles. Yet through all those deaths, all those resets, the two had grown to respect one another. In time, the executioner had become Vale's mentor.
All Vale needed to escape this realm was a single victory. One kill, One moment where he struck the final blow instead of receiving it. Yet that victory felt impossibly distant, like a star burning faintly in the night sky. Every death, however, brought him one step closer. And now, after countless steps up that endless staircase, he was nearing the top.
Their blades clashed in an endless storm of sparks.
The chained man thrust his mighty spear forward, aiming to pierce Vale clean through. Vale twisted to the side, parrying the powerful blow and retaliating with a sharp arc of his blade aimed at the man's neck. Instantly, the chained man released one hand from his spear, transforming it mid-motion into a massive sword. Metal rang as he blocked Vale's slash with the gauntlet covering his forearm, then swung his new blade toward Vale's throat.
Vale ducked low and, without hesitation, transformed his weapon even as the chained man still gripped it. In a flash of twisting metal, it reshaped into a long morningstar, its chains tangling around the man's gauntlet. A faint, victorious smirk crept across Vale's face. Yes. Finally, an opening.
He jerked the chain downward with all his strength, pulling the chained man off balance, and transformed his weapon again, back into a massive sword. With a roar he swung upward, the blade screaming toward the gap in the man's cracked armor. It was the closest he had come in dozens of cycles.
But the chained man moved.
His posture shifted, an explosion of force erupting from his side. Vale's eyes widened.
'Fuck'
He lost his grip on the weapon a split second before the man's kick connected squarely with his ribs. He was sent flying, skidding through the blood-red air above the sea before he twisted and landed on his feet, his breath ragged.
Planting a hand on his knee, Vale let out a groan. "Can't you let me win already?"
The chained man only chuckled, leveling his blade past Vale, not at him, but toward the distant horizon. Vale followed his gaze. In the distance, the three eidolons clashed violently with the monstrous horde. Their roars shook the sea.
"They are fighting so that we may fight," the chained man said, transforming his weapon once more into a long glaive. "To hold back would be to insult their gesture."
Vale grinned, a sharp and reckless expression. "I see. Then I'll make sure to kill you this time, old man."
He shifted his stance, raising his weapon like a spear, then transformed it into a gleaming trident. As soon as the tines locked into shape, both fighters sprinted toward each other with blinding speed, each motion barely trackable even to the most trained mortal eye.
Their weapons collided in a storm of metal and shockwaves. Feet slid across the crimson sea, every step calculated, every shift of weight deliberate. Both fighters possessed an almost unfair advantage: absolute flexibility. With weapons that could transform at will, every clash hid a potential ambush, every movement threatened a surprise angle.
And neither of them just wielded weapons, they mastered them. All of them. Every shape, every style, every ancient form of combat known to mankind.
Against anyone else, either would have ended the fight in seconds. But against each other, it meant only one thing:
A long, brutal, grueling battle with no clear victor.
Still, they continued. Blow after blow. Transformation after transformation. Sparks of silver and crimson danced in the air.
Finally, finally, Vale saw another opening.
He hooked the trident's prongs around the shaft of the chained man's glaive and twisted, forcing the weapon down until it hit the surface of the sea with a heavy splash. Without hesitation, he stepped on the trapped glaive, pinning it, and transformed his trident into massive gauntlets.
Before the chained man could reclaim his weapon, Vale lunged forward and struck him directly across his obsidian mask.
The force sent the man flying backward.
Vale's grin widened, not in arrogance, but in sheer, burning determination.
He couldn't waste a single second. If he hesitated, the chained man would simply summon his weapon back to his hand.
This was his chance.
His only chance.
And he intended to take it.
Vale reached the chained man in less than a second. A faint white glow flickered from the man's hand, dangerous and familiar.
'Not good,' Vale thought.
But outwardly he showed nothing but a wild grin.
He lunged forward with a feint, a wide swing aimed at the chained man's mask. The man moved to counter it, yet the feint had never been meant to land. Vale twisted, driving a powerful punch into the unguarded center of the man's torso. The impact reverberated up Vale's arm.
Before the chained man could react, Vale used the same feinting hand to grab the back of the man's neck, yanking him forward. In the same breath, Vale drove his knee toward the same spot he'd struck before. This time, he heard it, a groan from beneath the obsidian mask.
A small victory. A rare victory.
But there was no time to enjoy it.
One of the man's arms shot out like a viper, grabbing Vale by the shoulder and hurling him across the bloody sea. Vale skidded, flipped, and landed in a crouch. Without missing a beat, he transformed his gauntlets into a short sword, the metal molding itself around his hand like flowing water.
The chained man summoned his glaive back into existence with a flicker of white light.
A low chuckle rumbled from beneath his mask.
"What do you intend to do with that short thing?" he said, leveling the glaive toward Vale.
Vale raised a brow, expression turning playfully mocking. "Oh, don't judge a weapon by its size. This little thing is still more than enough to kill any man you know."
A nervous smile tugged at his lips, but the confidence in his stance was real.
They spoke no more.
Both charged.
The chained man thrust the glaive in a blur. Vale twisted to the side, the blade grazed his ribs, drawing a sting of pain, but he closed the distance instantly. With his free hand, he grabbed the chained man's wrist, the one holding the glaive, locking it in place. Sliding in even closer, Vale reversed his grip on the short sword, switching into a backhanded stance, and drove the blade sideway's toward the gap beneath the man's jaw.
Behind them, the world was drowning in chaos.
The eidolons tore through the monstrous army with divine ferocity. The great white tiger ripped the throat from a primate-like horror in a single, elegant bite. Two lizard-shaped abominations lunged at it, screeching, but before they could even reach the tiger, a flood of crimson flames swallowed them. The centipede, wreathed in swirling fire, slithered past their ashes.
It coiled around a massive, hulking beast, its bladed segments slicing deep with each tightened loop. Flesh split, bones cracked, and the creature was shredded apart. Its blood, dark and steaming, splattered across the centipede's carapace, staining it even deeper red. The creature clicked its mandibles in triumph, only to immediately pivot toward another oncoming monster, ready to tear it apart.
High above them, the sky was a battlefield of wings and rot.
Seven gargantuan flying abominations circled like vultures. At their center, the black metallic dragon clamped its jaws around one and ripped it in half mid-flight. Below, an eight-legged lizard creature opened its maw, releasing a brilliant beam of energy. The beam slammed into the dragon, engulfing it in a plume of smoke.
For a heartbeat, nothing could be seen.
Then, blue fire erupted from within.
A blazing navy beam tore out of the smoke, spearing through the lizard abomination below and disintegrating it instantly. The dragon emerged, unshaken, roaring with thunderous defiance before turning its glowing eyes toward the remaining six enemies as they approached from every direction.
But the beam had stirred something else.
A tidal wave of blood rose from the surface of the crimson sea, massive, heaving and unstoppable, rushing straight toward Vale and the chained man as they continued their furious clash of blades.
Neither of them looked away.
Neither of them slowed down.
Their weapons met again with a shock that shook the ocean beneath their feet.