The battlefield quaked under the fury of the battle. David's fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his muscles straining against the surge of power coursing through him. Every strike he delivered was met with an equally forceful counterattack, his amplified strength barely holding its ground against the onslaught.
A roar tore from David's throat, rattling the very air as he charged toward Ezekiel, his movements swift and precise. But then—a blast of sound slammed into his ears like a hammer, blurring his vision. Rebecca's crystal spikes erupted from the ground, sharp and unforgiving. He leapt to avoid them, only to have Solomon's gravity shift smash him back to earth.
The impact was brutal, his body slamming into the ground with a sickening crunch. He lay there for a moment, the weight of the battle bearing down on him. His bones ached, and every breath felt heavier than the last. But he wasn't done. Not yet.
"This isn't working," David muttered through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down his face. Even with all his power, he was struggling to keep up. His enemies were relentless, calculated. He needed something more.
Ezekiel's smirk was a dagger to his pride. "Your strength alone won't save you."
David's mind raced. His muscles burned, and the fight felt endless, but desperation was starting to claw at him. "I can't... do this alone," he thought, his chest tightening with the weight of it. His thoughts spiraled into chaos. He needed help.
Desperation broke through his limits. With a primal scream, David pushed against the weight crushing him, the air around him thick with the tension of the battle. He couldn't afford to fail.
In the midst of it all, something shifted. Saponu, locked in his own battle against Rosamund and the eight ancestors, turned his attention to David. With a flicker of intent, his Copyeyes activated, and a perfect replica of him materialized beside David. The clone radiated the same overwhelming presence as its creator, a perfect reflection of the original.
Without hesitation, the clone lunged forward, meeting the three ancestors head-on. For a brief moment, David found respite. The clone engaged with their attackers, giving David the opportunity to catch his breath and reorient himself.
But the ancestors were not easily deterred. Solomon raised a hand, and the air around David grew suffocatingly dense. The force of the gravitational pressure dropped like an anvil, pushing David to his knees.
But David refused to stay down. His mind burned with newfound determination. If he had learned anything in this fight, it was that surrender was never an option. With every ounce of his amplified strength, he pushed back against the crushing pressure, his body screaming in protest but his will unwavering.
Meanwhile, within the Ancestral Council's hallowed halls, the air was thick with anticipation. The circular chamber, illuminated by ethereal light, pulsed with the combined power of the seated ancestors. Their faces were grim, and their voices barely above whispers.
The fate of Saponu and David rested in their hands.
Monica Kwashi was the first to speak, her voice calm but carrying an edge of fury. Her brown eyes glowed with restrained emotion, and the golden amulet around her neck pulsed with energy. "I will go. Saponu, and this prisoner—David—will pay for what they've done to my son."
Joseph Obuko, ever steadfast, nodded in agreement. His dark eyes, filled with quiet resolve, flickered toward Monica. "If you go, I go with you," he said simply, his voice final.
Richard Mawunyo, the warrior with a thirst for battle, leaned forward in his chair, his white hair gleaming. "Count me in. It's been too long since I had a good fight," he said, cracking his knuckles.
Thomas Mills, ever the strategist, sat motionless, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on the others. "I've got a score to settle with Saponu. I won't miss this chance."
Helena Gyan, always calm, tilted her head slightly. Her dark eyes scanned the room, and with a casual shrug, she said, "I suppose I'll join. I have nothing better to do."
Epson Nii Nortey's face hardened with restrained fury. His green eyes flashed as he spoke through gritted teeth. "Saponu will learn the consequences of his actions. I'm in."
A silence hung in the air for a moment. Then, from the far side of the table, a quiet voice cut through the tension.
"I will also join," Wisdom Wokata declared.
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. His pale complexion was shadowed by fatigue, but his piercing blue eyes were sharp with intent. His long black hair, often disheveled from his obsessive research, framed his face. His dark coat, worn from hours of work, betrayed his lack of concern for appearance. His voice, though soft, carried undeniable authority.
Epson narrowed his glowing green eyes at Wisdom, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Are you sure? You don't look fit for battle."
But Wisdom's eyes remained fixed on him. Silent. Unyielding.
Joseph raised a hand, silencing the conversation. "If he wishes to fight, we allow him," he said coolly, his white eyes flickering with indifference.
The decision was made. Seven warriors—each with their own motivations—would face the combined might of Saponu and David. Seven against two. The battle ahead would be one for the ages.
Back in the underground prison, David and Saponu's clone stood side by side, preparing for the next wave of enemies. The air was electric with tension, charged with the power of the battle. Solomon's gravitational pressure weighed down on David, threatening to crush him under its force. Despite his amplified body, it felt like walking through a sea of stone.
Then the clone moved. In an instant, it vanished and reappeared behind Ezekiel. Before the sonic manipulator could react, the clone struck, delivering a precise palm strike to Ezekiel's spine. The sound of the blow echoed through the battlefield, disrupting Ezekiel's control over his sonic powers.
Seizing the opportunity, David surged forward. His fist collided with Ezekiel's gut with bone-crushing force, sending the sound manipulator hurtling into a wall, debris flying in every direction.
Rebecca reacted swiftly, crystal spears forming in the air. They shot toward David with lethal speed, but the clone was faster. Appearing in front of him, it raised its hand, halting the spears inches from their target. With a flick of its wrist, the clone sent them hurtling back at Rebecca. She barely managed to form a barrier in time, but the impact still forced her to stagger.
David turned his attention to Solomon next. The gravity manipulator raised his hand, intensifying the pressure that was already trying to crush David under its weight. The ground cracked beneath David's feet, but he pushed forward, each step feeling like it was made of lead. With a growl, he twisted his body and slammed a punch into Solomon's jaw. The force sent the ancestor skidding back, his control over gravity momentarily broken.
The clone was there in an instant, striking Solomon with a palm to the chest that sent him flying across the battlefield. He collided with Ezekiel, who was just recovering from his own defeat.
Rebecca, breathing heavily, summoned another wave of crystal spears. But the clone was already in front of her, its golden eyes locked onto hers. It struck with terrifying speed, landing a precise blow to her stomach.
She gasped as the air was knocked from her lungs, her own crystal constructs shattering midair. She crumpled to her knees, struggling to stay conscious.
David stood tall, panting, his body aching from the fight. He looked over the fallen ancestors. They were still breathing, but barely.
The battle was over—for now.
The clone turned toward David and gave a small, approving nod. "That's how you fight."
David exhaled sharply, feeling his body begin to sag with exhaustion. He turned his attention to the remaining fight—Peter and Randy were still engaged with the last of the ancestors.
"We have to help them," David thought, his resolve hardening. They weren't done yet.