Vale and the chained man launched into each other with a relentless, unbroken assault. Vale's weapon had taken the form of a heavy claymore, while the chained man wielded a long odachi, both blades carving streaks of light across the air with movements almost too fast for the naked eye to follow.
Vale's armor had been slashed open in several places, thin streams of blood trailing down his ribs and legs. But he didn't flinch. Cuts meant nothing. Pain meant nothing. His focus had become unbreakable.
Yet the tidal wave did break it.
The wall of blood rose behind them, towering, shifting the rhythm of the fight. The chained man stepped back and unleashed a single devastating blow that forced Vale to skid across the surface of the sea, but instead of pursuing him, the man stopped. He looked down at the ground sea them… then up at the oncoming wave.
Vale followed his gaze.
The wave was enormous, hundreds of meters high, a moving mountain of crimson.
The chained man's posture tightened.
Vale's stomach dropped.
And then, strangely, a nervous grin crept across his face as a reckless idea crashed through his mind.
A stupid idea. A very, very stupid idea.
He glanced back down at the chained man, who stood perfectly unwounded, perfectly calm. This idea might be Vale's only chance to gain even the smallest advantage.
'Fuck… I really am an idiot,' he thought, a bead of cold sweat sliding down his temple.
And then he ran.
He sprinted straight toward the tidal wave.
He had no idea what would happen. The sea had never swallowed them before, but that didn't guarantee the wave wouldn't simply crush him. Still, he calculated the possibilities:
Either the wave would launch him upward, letting him reach the peak before the chained man did…
Or the blood would pass through him harmlessly, giving him a momentary advantage.
Both options were better than none.
But there was also the chance it would kill him instantly.
Vale clenched his teeth.
'Please work.'
A heartbeat later, the wave swallowed him whole.
And to his shock, it worked.
The wave hurled him upward, launching him into the air. He soared above the crest, flipping once before landing on his feet atop the shifting mountain of blood.
He looked ahead.
If his insane plan had worked…
There.
The chained man erupted from the wave below, flung upward by its force, rising exactly where Vale had predicted. Vale's eyes widened. His moment was now. His only moment.
'I have to hit him fast.'
He transformed his claymore into a spear mid-stride, dug in his heels, and halted his momentum in a single sharp motion. He twisted his torso, took aim, and hurled the spear with all his strength.
It streaked through the air,
toward the chained man's torso.
The impact was heavy. The man was sent flying backward,
But Vale's face fell.
A disappointed grimace spread across his face as another cold sweat rolled down his cheek.
"You've got to be kidding me…" he muttered.
Because he saw it.
The chained man hadn't been pierced at all.
He had caught the spear right before it touched him, his body held so unnaturally still that the tip of the spear had never made contact. It was control over one's own body so absolute, so superhuman, most people wouldn't even dream it possible.
But he had achieved it.
No, he had mastered it.
Vale froze for a single heartbeat, stunned.
Then he moved.
He sprinted across the unstable surface of the tidal wave, closing in as the chained man landed near the edge. But Vale wasn't aiming for a clean strike anymore. As the chained man swung his odachi downward, Vale ducked low, lower than he should have, and shifted his entire weight forward.
His goal wasn't to dodge.
His goal was to tackle the chained man off the wave entirely.
For any sane person, it would look like suicide.
But Vale had learned something in this cursed realm:
Sometimes the only way to kill this man was to die with him.
If he couldn't defeat him…
He would drag him down.
The tackle hit. Both fighters tumbled off the towering wave, plummeting from a terrifying height.
Vale's weapon spun away into the air.
The chained man maintained perfect grip on his odachi.
But Vale held onto him instead.
Mid-fall, Vale climbed onto the chained man's torso and unleashed a brutal barrage of punches to the mask. Blow after blow, faster than anyone should have been able to throw them. The chained man blocked some, deflected others, but Vale was too close and too relentless. Several punches landed squarely against the obsidian mask, ringing out like hammer on iron.
They fell.
Faster.
And faster.
And then
Impact.
Both of them smashed into the surface of the bloody sea, a shockwave ripping outward as though the ocean itself groaned in pain. Their bodies convulsed under the force. Internal organs shifted, bruised, battered.
Vale rolled across the liquid surface, tumbling again and again, until he finally came to a stop.
He coughed, Violently.
Blood splattered from his mouth.
He was alive.
Barely.
Pushing himself up on shaking arms, he wheezed and spat more blood onto the sea. His vision blurred, but he scanned the ground desperately for his weapon.
There,
Half-submerged not far away.
"Yes…" he rasped, voice strained but triumphant. He staggered toward it.
But a low, heavy groan sounded behind him.
Vale paused.
He glanced over his shoulder.
The chained man was there, hunched over, coughing as well, but very much alive. And in better condition than Vale.
Of course he was.
Of course.
Vale's breathing hitched.
The battle wasn't over.
It hadn't even begun to end.
Vale gritted his teeth in frustration as he sprinted toward his weapon, his left hand clamped tightly over the gash in his waist. Every step sent a jolt of pain through his body, raw, agonizing pain that threatened to buckle his knees. But he refused to slow down. How could he? His goal was right there, within reach. If he gave up now, it wouldn't just be losing to the chained man, it would be losing to himself.
And in this realm, where death was never final, failure only meant one thing:
he still wasn't strong enough.
That, Vale refused to accept.
So he ran, staggering, limping, but unbroken.
The hilt of his weapon finally came into reach. Vale stretched out his metallic hand,
and then jerked it back instinctively.
A massive bone spear tore through the air, slicing past his fingertips and embedding itself into the blood-red sea with a violent hiss. If Vale had reached a heartbeat earlier, the spear would have nailed his arm to the ocean.
His breath caught in his throat. Slowly, he turned.
The chained man stood a short distance away, rolling his shoulder in an exaggerated stretch, casual, almost mocking. Vale's lips twisted into a pained, antagonizing grin.
"You want me to fight," he shouted hoarsely, "yet you won't even let me hold my damn weapon?!"
It was a pathetic attempt at provoking him, but it worked.
The chained man's posture buckled slightly. One hand pressed against his abdomen as a low, muffled chuckle slipped out from under the obsidian mask. Then the chuckle deepened, growing into a booming, unrestrained laugh that echoed over the crimson sea.
Vale blinked in disbelief.
The man almost never laughed like that.
Gradually, the chained man regained control, wiping away the lingering amusement in his voice, almost.
"Oh… hah sorry," he said lightly. Then, without warning, his tone shifted. Calm. Sharp. Teacher-like.
"But tell me, Vale… do you truly think your future enemies will grant you that request?"
Vale's eyes widened.
Because the man was right.
The chained man had never been here to kill him, not really. He had been here to shape him, break him, rebuild him. Every death had been a lesson. Every failure, a step toward mastery.
Before Vale could process the weight of that truth, the chained man continued.
"However," he said gently, "I am not your future enemy."
He extended a hand to the side. A ripple tore across the air, and the bone spear reappeared in his grip.
"So I'll grant you your request." His voice softened, a rare compassion breaking through. "Just remember this when you're truly fighting for your life."
He angled his spear downward and nodded toward Vale's fallen weapon, giving permission without words.
Vale hesitated only a moment before moving. He crouched, grasped the bone-forged claymore with his metallic hand, and exhaled slowly. The pain in his side screamed. His lungs burned. Blood dripped from his jaw.
But he lifted the weapon regardless.
He nodded once, respectful.
"…Thank you," he murmured.
Then, in the span of a heartbeat, his expression sharpened. His entire face shifted into something fierce, pure concentration, pure intent. This time, he meant to end it. This time, he wanted this clash to be the last.
Across from him, the chained man adjusted as well. He stepped forward and took on a stance Vale had rarely seen, his spear lifted directly above his head, pointed downwards at a harsh, unusual angle. It wasn't a standard stance. It wasn't a style Vale recognized.
But that only made it worse.
Vale knew, all too well, that the chained man never used anything he didn't already master completely.
'This is it,' Vale thought.
My chance.
My opening.
My final attempt after all these years in this wretched place.
Monsters. Gods. Endless deaths. Endless rebirths.
All of it leading to this moment.
Vale tightened his grip on the claymore.
He refused, absolutely refused, to waste this opportunity.