Dragan stood up and thrust his hand out, pointing toward the Flamebriar Monarch.
"And as for you, you one-horned f*ck," he said, "Only death awaits the enemies of Sol Invictus."
The Monarch lifted his arm to the side. Grasping vines swam through the floor, retrieving his sword and returning it to his hand.
Then, he lowered his body and assumed a martial stance.
All that, and he didn't say a word.
"Hmph. So you won't talk," Dragan frowned. "Guess there ain't nothin' to talk about..."
He released his sword. The weighty blade made a splintering crack into the wooden flooring and it stood at a slant, hilt upward.
"Kiddo," he said without looking back, "You're 'bout to see some shite. Just know I'm not gonna apologize for a damn thing."
Ree furrowed her brows.
Dragan was a man who didn't apologize for anything-- that was something she knew well.
But why... would he say something like that?
Dragan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Then he began forming a series of gestures with his hands.
"⌈Limit Break⌋..."
A dizzying Formation appeared under his feet, centered around his sword. The script inside of it danced and... raged.
The ground shook beneath him. His hair was flowing, impossible winds swirling around him.
The air was so thick with power and majesty that Ree had to remind herself to breathe.
But even still... Dragan wasn't finished.
He continued to move his hands, each subsequent hand-seal with more deliberation... and more force.
The glowing script on the ground formed another circle layer, then branched into eight new, offset circles.
"⌈Attack Boost⌋... ⌈Accelerate⌋... ⌈Hawkeye⌋..."
No...
Ree shook her head. That was impossible.
Not Dragan.
What she was seeing-- she would accept it from anyone but Dragan.
"⌈Resilience⌋... ⌈Fear Resist⌋... ⌈Beryl Shield⌋..."
Dragan wasn't a Martial Class.
Everyone told her that Dragan was a Swordmage, but that... was an outright lie.
Dragan was a Pure Caster.
The many parts of the Spell Formation were rough and ugly. They were kept together, not by harmony and balance, but because that person willed it to be.
The War Prince of Vralkek slammed his fists together, sending a shockwave throughout the chamber.
"⌈Crown of the Boundless Emperor.⌋"[1]
A domineering, red mana aura enveloped Dragan. A hazy golden ring hovered above his head.
"S-sol Invictus," Ree whispered.
Dragan had become the avatar of the sun.
...Undefeated.
He picked up his huge, black sword...
"⌈Bull's Charge.⌋"
Dragan's movement technique brought him face-to-face with the Flamebriar Monarch.
Ree could follow his sword, but only because it left an ink-black trail whenever he swung it.
He was fast... faster than any warrior she'd ever seen. His sword was dangerous, enchanted with rage and evil and death.
And each of those strikes contained the will and hateful intent of the raging sun.
But... the Monarch's footwork was peerless.
He evaded each of Dragan's swings with inhuman agility, even despite him being enchanted with so many offensive Spells.
The Monarch's swordplay was peerless.
Dragan suffered a dozen cuts and stabs on his body... even despite the layers and layers of defensive enchantments.
Ree couldn't look away. She was captivated by their battle-- a page in a tale about Ancient Sect Masters fighting against demons and gods.
⌈Green Flame Blade⌋. ⌈Heat Crash⌋. ⌈Lightning Spike⌋.
Dragan recklessly centered a ⌈Flameburst⌋ on himself, but the Flamebriar Monarch just... danced away, free of injury.
No matter how hurt Dragan got. No matter how his fury and helplessness grew as the fight went on.
Ree found it... beautiful.
It was nothing like a fight. She had been in fights.
What she was witnessing... was more like a dance.
With every exchange, the Flamebriar Monarch defied death.
Yet, with every exchange, Dragan refused to die.
And then--
And... finally... it was over.
The hand of the Flamebriar Monarch stabbed through the left side of Dragan's chest.
The half-giant collapsed to his knees, barely supporting himself with his sword.
"I. hear. them..." the Monarch's voice crackled, "I'm sorr--"
"Shut your F*CKING face!!" Dragan spat.
Red worms began to burrow out of the Monarch's human arm.
The voices... Ree felt chills assault her body even before she heard them.
Faint whispers were beginning to seep through the corners of her mind.
Struggling through the pain coursing through all her muscles, she raised her arms.
She put her hands over her ears. She held her head tight.
She knew she was risking cracking her own skull open-- but she needed to silence the voices before they could be heard!
Dragan reached forward, grabbing the Monarch's cloak.
"If there's anything left in that f*cking skull of yours," he growled, "ANYTHING at F*CKING ALL... you'll LET the kid GO!!!"
Black blood was spilling out of his mouth like water.
"It is... not... my. will," the Monarch said firmly.
One of Dragan's hands dropped back down to the hilt of his sword.
"You made her cry," he whispered. "Not even death is good enough for the likes of you."
"Don't..." the Monarch warned.
A scowl crossed Dragan's mouth, "⌈Earth Break⌋."
With a deafening crack, a series of huge fissures appeared in the wooden floor. Sweltering heat shot up from each one, forcing Ree to shield her face with a hand.
She heard the clash of swords.
Something metallic broke.
A shard of black flew through the air and stuck into the ground.
When Ree looked again, Dragan's sword was broken and his left arm was severed at the middle of his forearm.
"You cannot. win. against the Tyrant God," the Monarch said. "None. of. us. can."
Dragan spat in the Monarch's face, "FFFUCK YOU!"
The Monarch ran his sword through Dragan's chest. The steel was covered in red where it pierced through his back.
He grabbed Dragan by the head, pushing him aside.
And Dragan... Prince of Vralkek... First Sword of Sol Invictus... toppled into the open pit.
Ree was already moving before she realized it. Every step sent pangs of agony throughout her body, but she pushed through.
Ignoring the brilliant, painful light, she peered into the fissure... but all she saw was an ocean of bubbling lava.
Yet...
Dragan, her invincible teacher...
Dragan... the strongest in Sol Invictus...
Dragan... her closest friend... was gone.
Ree sensed the Monarch looming over her... waiting... watching.
But she could no longer fight.
And even if she could, she was no match for the Flamebriar Monarch.
Trying her best to ignore the voices...
Trying her best to ignore the pain...
Ree curled up, hugging her knees.
"W... what... are you w-waiting for... f*cktard?" she asked in a tiny voice. "Do it... f*cking... kill me."
And so... Kimura Taree, the shame of Sol Invictus, closed her eyes.
'Brother... I'm coming to see you soon...'
[1] Crown of the Boundless Emperor: See Chapter 928, Mouth of the Bleeding Hells, part two.
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