William landed with a resounding impact in the center of the arena, sending a surge of water rippling outward that forced the other two fighters to opposite ends. They stared at him, startled, their eyes locked on the figure now standing in the middle.
CLAP!
A sharp clap rang out, cutting through the sound of waves and scattering the swirling sand and dust. As the air cleared, the spectators in the stands could now see William in full view.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the two fighters began to circle him, their eyes filled with predatory malice. Though clearly angered by the interruption, they paused momentarily, turning their gazes upward to the balcony where Aquarius stood, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.
"Proceed!"
At Aquarius's command, the fighters wasted no time. They launched their attack simultaneously: one, a monk wielding crustacean-like gauntlets that distorted the air around them, and the other, armed with a trident glowing with mysterious runes, crackling with ominous energy.
William braced himself, digging his feet deep into the ground until they were buried to his knees. He bent sharply at a ninety-degree angle, narrowly avoiding the sizzling trident as it streaked over his head. With a swift, powerful motion, he grabbed the trident's shaft just below its forked tips and yanked hard. The Atlantean wielding it was sent hurtling into the other fighter, who had been mid-air, executing a leaping attack.
CRACK!
With calculated ease, William stepped out of the deep impressions left by his feet and gestured for the fighters to attack again. The Atlantean with the gauntlets, veins bulging with fury, executed a technique that caused him to flicker from his position. In an instant, he appeared directly in front of William, his right gauntlet raised.
BOOM!
William barely managed to block in time, mitigating the damage but still enduring the force of the blow, which caused micro-fractures in the bones of his arms. Each fracture healed stronger than before, and if an advanced color-capable x-ray were employed, William's bones would appear almost entirely black, streaked with thin golden lines, resembling pillars of dark, ominous marble.
Using his innate flying ability, William twisted out of his backward trajectory, harnessing a staggering amount of momentum as he launched himself toward the monk-like Atlantean. Confident in the might of his punches, the Atlantean aimed a strike to intercept the oncoming attack.
CRACK!
The impact resonated like distant, rolling thunder as William and the Atlantean clashed in a brutal exchange, trading blows with unrelenting ferocity.
Uppercut.
Axe kick.
Elbow.
William unleashed a devastating combo that sent the monk flying backward, blood trailing from his lips, just as he prepared to counter the torrent of trident strikes from the Atlantean dragoon.
Swish.
Flash.
Swipe.
William was forced onto the defensive, each nick from the trident not only wounding him physically but inexplicably slowing his healing factor to a mere fraction of its former speed.
William grunted as the trident nicked his ribs again, its runes glowing darker with each taste of his blood. The wound refused to close, the edges sizzling with unnatural corruption. His body, typically quick to heal itself in an instant, now pulsed sluggishly, his regeneration delayed and faltering.
Damn it. Even his heartbeat felt heavier, slower.
But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't.
The monk closed in once more, using his flicker-step technique to materialize above William, both fists drawn back for a devastating downward hammerblow. The air cracked under the pressure just before the strike.
BOOOOM!
The double gauntlets crashed into William's shoulders, driving him to one knee. The arena floor cratered beneath him, water erupting like a geyser from the impact point. Steam hissed off his back as his struggling healing tried to keep up.
William lifted his gaze, blood trickling from his nostrils. The monk hovered for a fleeting moment, smirking.
William seized the opening.
He launched upward like a torpedo.
The sheer force of his ascent slammed into the monk's gut, propelling them both into the air with explosive momentum. Mid-flight, William locked his arms around the monk's waist, spinning violently before plunging them back down, headfirst, into the stone arena.
CRACK!
KRA-KOOM!
Blood burst from the monk's mouth, his eyes rolling back as the impact shattered part of the platform. A tremor rippled outward through the drenched coliseum.
But William didn't have a moment to catch his breath.
The dragoon wielding the cursed trident struck from the flank with the precision of a viper. Every movement was calculated, devoid of waste, exuding ruthless efficiency. The trident's shaft spun and connected with William's temple, fracturing his skull and causing a small section to dent inward.
A sickening crunch echoed.
William staggered, his vision dimming momentarily as his body swayed sideways. The dragoon seized the opportunity, crouching low to thrust the trident into William's thigh. The weapon pierced cleanly through muscle and sinew, its jagged runes flaring crimson.
A wave of cold and nausea washed over William's nervous system, blurring his vision.
Before he could recover, the trident was wrenched free and slammed into his back, once, twice, each strike heavier than the last, carrying an ancient, crushing weight that felt like the deep sea's pressure itself.
William crumpled onto all fours.
From the nearby crater, the monk rose once more, bloodied but seething, his gauntlets now glowing red-hot with internal heat. "He's weakening. Let's end this."
The two Atlanteans closed in from either side.
William let them.
His fingers gripped the blood-soaked sand beneath him.
His body was a wreck, twitching limbs, cracked ribs, a swollen-shut eye, but his mind remained razor sharp.
He allowed the monk to strike first.
As the gauntlet descended for the final blow, William surged upward and headbutted the monk squarely in the face.
CRACK!
The monk's nose shattered, and William followed with a brutal uppercut that dislocated the monk's jaw mid-air.
The dragoon lunged again, but William twisted his body, letting the trident scrape along his side, deliberately guiding it into his oblique. Seizing the moment, he gripped the shaft of the weapon.
This time, he held on.
The two combatants grappled fiercely for control, violent waves frothing around them.
The trident quivered between their hands as raw energy surged through it, emitting a foreboding hum. The Atlantean dragoon snarled, twisting the shaft to yank it free, but William clenched his jaw and held his ground. His muscles burned in protest, blood seeped steadily from his side, yet he didn't waver.
With a guttural roar, William drove his forehead into the dragoon's, splitting the Atlantean's brow with a burst of blood and saltwater. The dragoon staggered back, but only briefly.
It was all William needed.
Summoning his strength, he hauled the trident upward, dragging the Atlantean along with it. The weapon tore free from his wound with a sickening rip as William pivoted sharply, wielding the shaft like a lever. In one seamless motion, he hurled the dragoon over his shoulder and into the arena wall.
KRAKOOM!
The impact shattered the wall, sending debris and seawater cascading down. The crowd erupted in gasps, rising to their feet as a heavy silence descended from Aquarius's balcony.
William's breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled toward the fallen dragoon.
But the monk struck again.
He surged from behind in a blur of movement, locking one gauntleted arm around William's throat while his other fist pounded relentlessly into his ribs and spine.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
William's breath came in ragged gasps, but beneath the pounding pain, a fierce determination ignited within him. The monk's grip tightened relentlessly around his throat, yet William's fingers twitched, blood dripping from abrasions where skin met the coarse sand.
A low, primal growl began to rise from deep within his chest, reverberating with an ancient and untamed power.
His vision blurred at the edges, the arena's roaring crowd fading into an indistinct haze. From the very core of his being, a searing heat erupted, a flame forged by agony, rage, and an unbreakable will to survive.
With a shuddering breath, William's hands clenched the blood-soaked sand beneath him once more.
Then, the air before him shimmered.
A swirling crimson mist began to gather, coalescing like molten glass.
The mist darkened, twisting into the form of a blade, translucent yet menacing, radiating with a fierce, inner heat. The Phantom Blade: Morrigan had emerged.
Its blade appeared forged from almost transparent blood, shimmering and shifting with every subtle movement. The obsidian black guard gleamed like solidified darkness, while the blazing orange gem embedded in the pommel burned silently, pulsing with the furious rhythm of a heartbeat.
William's eyes snapped open, ablaze with renewed purpose.
The monk's grip faltered as the atmosphere thickened, suffused with sudden and oppressive heat.
With a surge of strength, William tore his arms free, the Phantom Blade springing to life in his grasp. The blade's edge flickered like a living flame, poised to slash and burn through anything in its path.
Without hesitation, William swung the blade forward. The translucent edge sliced through the monk's gauntlet with a sharp hiss, igniting it briefly in a flicker of orange fire.
The monk staggered back, his eyes wide with disbelief.
The crowd erupted in a deafening roar as William spun, the Phantom Blade shifting seamlessly, transforming from a sword into a whip-like lash of searing, burning blood.
Whip-crack!
The fiery tendril lashed out with unrelenting force, coiling around the monk's arm and dragging him toward William in a brutal motion.
The dragoon surged forward, trident poised for another strike, but William spun sharply, the whip-blade snapping with deadly precision. The phantom edge coiled around the trident's shaft, crushing it with otherworldly strength until it splintered, the glowing runes fracturing and extinguishing like dying embers.
The monk staggered, attempting to regain his footing, but William was already advancing, the whip solidifying back into its blade form within his grip.
With a ferocious roar, William lunged forward, the Phantom Blade slicing through the air in a dazzling arc.
The monk raised his blazing gauntlets in defense, but the blade swept cleanly between them, carving through the air and leaving a deep gash across his chest.
Blood, vivid and almost luminescent, poured freely, only to be hungrily absorbed by the Phantom Blade. Its edge glowed fiercely, pulsating brighter as it drank the life force it had claimed.
For the first time, fear flickered in the monk's eyes.
William stood tall, his presence commanding and unyielding, as the Phantom Blade pulsed with unrestrained fury. The fiery orange gem at its core blazed like a captured star, radiating raw power.
"This ends now," William growled, his voice unwavering as he prepared to strike again.
The Phantom Blade: Morrigan tore through the air in a blazing arc of translucent blood and fire, aimed directly at the monk's unguarded chest. But before it could strike, a sudden force collided with it.
A metallic clang, resonating like thunder throughout the arena, heralded the appearance of the shattered remnants of the dragoon's trident, its fractured shaft still glowing faintly with lingering rune energy, as the dragoon hurled himself between William and the monk.
The blade halted abruptly, mere inches from the monk's chest, its intense heat scorching the dragoon's armored forearm as he caught it in a desperate block.
The dragoon's eyes flared with unyielding resolve. "Not so fast," he growled through gritted teeth, his muscles straining under the effort of holding back the Phantom Blade's fiery edge.
Seizing the opportunity, the monk darted backward with flicker-step agility, disappearing in a blur before anyone could react.
William's grip tightened around Morrigan's hilt as the fiery whip solidified into a blade once more, his sharp gaze flickering between his two adversaries.
The crowd erupted in a deafening roar, the momentum of the battle shifting in an instant.
The dragoon steadied himself, his eyes blazing with the focus of a predator, while the monk's fiery gauntlets ignited once again, crackling with intense heat. They exchanged a sharp, wordless glance, their grim alliance forged in the desperation of survival against William's relentless assault.
William's breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles screaming from the strain beneath battered skin, yet the Phantom Blade: Morrigan vibrated with eager hunger in his grip, feeding on the blood spilled and ready to unleash its wrath anew.
With a feral roar, William surged forward, the blade in his hand transforming fluidly from a solid sword to a whip-like lash. The fiery tendrils slashed through the air with deadly precision, aiming to overwhelm both opponents in a single sweeping attack.
The monk flickered aside with lightning speed, meeting the whip's strikes with his ablaze gauntlets, while the dragoon spun the broken shaft of his ruined trident like a staff, blocking the lashing tendrils with desperate accuracy.
Crack! Sizzle! The Phantom Blade seared through the air, but neither opponent faltered.
They pressed their advantage, coordinating their movements with unyielding precision.
The monk unleashed a rapid barrage of fiery punches, each strike from his gauntlets sending shockwaves through William's ribs and shoulders, while the dragoon followed with devastating jabs and sweeping blows, exploiting every opening with brutal efficiency.
William staggered beneath the relentless onslaught, the trident's rune-induced curse continuing to drain his healing powers. Cuts and bruises accumulated rapidly; his side bled profusely, and his breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps.
Yet, even as the battle wore on, William's eyes burned with undiminished intensity.
Mustering every ounce of his dwindling strength, he transformed the Phantom Blade back into sword form, deflecting a devastating strike from the dragoon and retaliating with a fierce slash that nicked the monk's arm.
The monk hissed in pain but immediately counterattacked, their combined offensive keeping William precariously on the defensive.
Sweat mingled with blood as the three combatants engaged in a perilous dance of death, each blow, parry, and riposte driving them closer to their limits.
The crowd watched in breathless silence, torn between admiration and terror.
William clenched his jaw, fully aware that this tenuous equilibrium could not hold much longer.