As Lucas dashed at him head-on, Nero raised an eyebrow and then thrust his sword forward toward the silver-haired boy.
Quickly, the young Morningstar's figure sidestepped to evade Nero's sword. It looked as if he had evaded the attack harmlessly.
But that notion was short-lived.
A thin red line appeared on Lucas' right cheek, warm drops of blood rolling down from it. Just a few centimeters higher, and he would have lost his right eye.
Lucas despised that Nero's sword marred his beautiful face, as much as he hated how his opponent could effortlessly track his movements.
Despite Lucas' incredible speed, which made him look like a blur to everyone else present in the Arena, he was no match for Nero.
Lunging to Nero's right, Lucas shot his spear toward his opponent's vulnerable ribs.
But that opening proved to be a trap. Nero had lured Lucas there deliberately.
As the crimson blade of the spear moved in his direction, Nero instantly seized the opportunity and jumped up, spinning his body mid-air.
Using the momentum of his spin, Nero attempted to bring down the blade of his sword on Lucas like a guillotine.
But Lucas was prepared. He abruptly halted his thrust and flawlessly executed an upward vertical slash with his spear, meeting Nero's descending sword.
Clang—!!
Nero's sword collided with the crimson blade of Lucas' spear, his eyes widening in surprise.
Nero spun in the opposite direction, landing a few steps back, still in a state of shock.
He hadn't expected Lucas to block his attack with such skill. Nero believed that the young Morningstar would be forced to use his Gift to fling him away.
'Was it a fluke?' Nero thought, reluctant to accept that his attack had been seen through.
Shaking his head, Nero darted forward at Lucas and swung his glowing azure sword at him.
It was fine. Even if it was a fluke, Lucas wouldn't be able to repeat it. After all, it is as they say, ``There's no value in success if one can't reproduce it.``
Determined to crush Lucas before any more miracles occurred, Nero unleashed a frenzy of unpredictable slashes at the silver-haired boy, holding nothing back this time.
Swish, Swish, Swish—!!
'…Huh?'
To Nero's astonishment, however, the phenomenon he dismissed as a fluke or miracle kept repeating itself.
Each swing of his blade, every slash that he unleashed... met nothing but air!
Lucas skillfully maneuvered on his feet, effortlessly dodging Nero's attacks by sidestepping, jumping, ducking, or performing a combination of all three.
...How?! How was he doing it?!
Nero was baffled. His attacks were being effortlessly seen through. His technique had been deciphered with ease! He felt utterly exposed!
Despite avoiding Nero's attacks, Lucas wasn't counterattacking just yet. Instead, he decided to stick close and move around at a quick speed.
At this range, Nero should have the advantage in attack since Lucas' spear was basically useless for such close combat.
Yet, Nero couldn't do much when his attacks weren't connecting, could he now?
Initially, his sword managed to leave a few gashes and cuts on the silver-haired boy, but now, his blade wasn't even connecting!
For a moment, Nero considered the possibility that the young Morningstar really possessed some sort of future sight despite what he had said in the past.
But then, something caught Nero's attention. Lucas... his eyes... they weren't focusing on him!
No, Lucas chose to focus on Nero's feet instead… Or more specifically, on his footwork.
"I see!" Nero mumbled under his breath.
Footwork is the foundation of most if not all, techniques. It provides the movements, after all. Movements that are molded into techniques.
It's possible to decipher feint attacks by studying your opponent's movements.
Some masters of combat and geniuses can even break down their enemy's technique through their footwork.
Was Lucas doing the same? Was he reading Nero's movements?!
Nero's face turned pale and his expression of surprise deepened. After a few seconds, he shook his head.
Fine, so Lucas had deciphered his technique. So what? Nero would simply change it.
Suddenly, Nero's footwork changed and grew erratic. His sword strikes, which were unpredictable before, now became almost impossible to follow.
An azure gleam streaked through the air as Nero's blade flashed toward Lucas. The silver-haired boy managed to dodge the attack but did not remain unscathed.
The blade connected with Lucas' shoulder, leaving a deep gash. It flashed again, this time wounding his right ribs.
Nero's plan was rather simple. If Lucas could read his movements, then he would simply change techniques after Lucas grew accustomed to his movements.
By the time Lucas slipped past the gaps in his movements, Nero would've injured him enough and changed into a new, unfamiliar technique.
Nero's plan was as dangerous as it was good… If only Lucas hadn't thought of it and had a way to counter it already.
Before Nero's blade could connect with his opponent for the third time, the air around Lucas suddenly changed.
The movement of his spear, the sound of his breathing, the subtle fluttering of his eyes... all of it changed ever so slightly, but the difference became crystal clear.
'This guy!' Nero cursed in his mind, a wild grin appearing on his face.
Lucas had also changed his own technique.
As Nero's sword neared him, Lucas angled his spear in a way that allowed the blade of his opponent to harmlessly slide off his weapon.
Nero didn't stop his assault, however. He continued to swing at Lucas, only to be met with the same result.
His blade was fast, and Lucas couldn't entirely avoid it, so now he was deflecting the attacks instead.
If before his technique resembled inviolable air, now his movements were as shapeless and formless as water.
How could he change his technique so fast? How could he change his battle style so fast?
ραΠdαsΝοvεl ƈοm By definition, a battle style was a structured framework of patterns of attacks that dictated how one should act to defeat an enemy.
Those patterns were used as a foundation and expanded into a variety of specific movements to create a style.
Changing those patterns in the midst of battle is crazy, something that mere teens like them shouldn't be able to do.
Yes, Nero did it, but he was special. Not only did he have talent, but he had also been training since a very, very young age.
Lucas was indeed called a genius once, but he wasted most of his young life and discarded his training.
How could a boy like that shift his battle style so easily like a master of combat?!
Yet, instead of a frown, a grin played on Nero's lips and widened even more with each passing second.
After his attacks were deflected a few more times, Nero knew that he could do nothing to harm the silver-haired boy.
Nodding, Nero jumped back a few meters and created a safe distance between him and his opponent.
"I underestimated you," he said, looking at Lucas with an insane glint in his eyes. "I can see that I can't defeat you with technique alone, so prepare yourself, Lucas."
Lucas gritted his teeth. He knew what this meant. Up until now, they were merely clashing with their weapons.
Now… Now, however, spells and weapon arts were going to get involved.
"Fine then," Lucas spat out, gnashing his teeth as he rushed forward, and suddenly…
The air wavered around him, and several figures perfectly resembling his own appeared forth and charged at Nero.
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