Chapter 129
The ceiling cracked as Rhogar smashed into it from below, launched by the blinding explosion of lightning-charged energy from Grandfather Imperial's fist.
Dust and debris rained down, but before the fragments even touched the ground, Rhogar pushed off the roof, flipping mid-air.
Rhogar (gritting his teeth): "You're faster than you look old man…"
He twisted his body, gathering pressure in his core.
Rhogar: "Sound Magic: Echo Drop!"
A thunderous BOOM exploded outward as he dropped, his body vibrating with sound waves. He plummeted like a meteor, fist-first, cracking the floor in a wide radius. The sheer shockwave blasted chunks of stone outward in all directions.
But Grandfather Imperial was already gone.
In a flash of yellow crackling light, he appeared beside Rhogar, lightning coiling around his arms.
Grandfather Imperial: "Keep your back open, and you'll be ash."
He drove a lightning-infused uppercut into Rhogar's ribs.
CRACK-BOOM!
The blast echoed like a cannon, sending Rhogar flying backward in a curved arc. Sparks erupted from his chest, steam rising from the scorched impact zone.
Rhogar slammed into the far wall with a deafening crash, crumbling part of it.
He coughed, grinning through a bloodied lip.
He stood, flexing his shoulders, heat rising from his skin. He clenched both fists—and a subtle red glow began to form beneath the surface.
Rhogar: "Fire Magic: Inner Furnace."
The temperature spiked.
Steam hissed off the cracked floor. His muscles tensed as glowing red-orange lines traced across his arms and chest, like veins of molten steel.
They rushed each other again—fists colliding in the center with a shockwave that split the ground. The impact blasted stone slabs into the air as they began exchanging a flurry of blows.
Fist. Block. Elbow. Dodge. Lightning crackled. Fire sparked.
Neither gave ground.
Grandfather Imperial ducked low, sweeping with a leg that left a trail of lightning across the floor. Rhogar jumped just in time, coming down with a flaming heel, but the old man sidestepped and drove a palm into his chest—this time not with lightning, but pure strength.
Rhogar slid back, smoke rising from his chest plate.
Rhogar (smirking): "You still hold back... or are that all you've got?"
Grandfather Imperial: "You talk too much for a second position."
Suddenly, the general raised both fists to the sky.
Grandfather Imperial: "Lightning Art: Sky Conduction."
A piercing hum filled the space as thin bolts of lightning rained down in a concentrated dome over the battlefield. Rhogar raised his arms as the storm pelted him, his fire aura flickering, shielding him from the brunt.
Then—
Rhogar roared.
Rhogar: "Sound + Fire Magic: Reverberation Blaze!"
He clapped both hands together—and a shockwave of fire pulsed outward in a ripple of expanding, molten air. The burning wave of compressed vibration and flame exploded in every direction, meeting the falling lightning with violent, blinding chaos.
The air distorted.
Walls cracked.
Flames danced across the ground, and lightning arced along the debris.
In the middle of it all, the two warriors charged again, both now bleeding from the corners of their mouths, chests heaving—not from fatigue, but excitement.
They were alive.
They collided again—fists connecting with a shockwave that cracked the very spot of the room.
They leapt apart briefly, standing across from one another. Dust floated between them. Their magic pulsed in the air like a storm about to burst.
Rhogar's shoulders heaved with excitement.
Rhogar: "Let's end this with one final shot."
Grandfather Imperial (nodding): "Agreed."
Both took deep breaths.
Rhogar stomped forward and extended both arms as sound waves began to wrap around his fists, vibrating with unstable fury. At the same time, flames spiraled into the vibration, turning his arms into blazing cannons of heat and force.
Rhogar: "Dual Magic Technique—Resonant Inferno Break!"
Meanwhile, Grandfather Imperial crouched low, lightning wrapping around his legs, and then climbing to his fists like chains of light.
His body glowed white-yellow.
Grandfather Imperial: "Lightning Art: Supreme Conduct—Thunder Palm."
The ground beneath both of them fractured just from the pressure of their magic.
They shot forward at once—one engulfed in fire and sound, the other wrapped in lightning.
Two roaring storms.
Two walking natural disasters.
Their fists were just about to clash—
When suddenly—
A purple lighting came between them.
Is a person with an sword coated with purple lighting.
As there fist contact the blade come between the last moment and from it an attack released deviating both Rhogar and grandfather imperial's attack.
BOOM!!
The shock of the interruption blew them both back a few steps.
A voice echoed out:
"That's ENOUGH!"
It's Cyrus in between them who deflect that attack.
Behind him stood Lyra, arms folded, her wedding dress now stained with dust and magic residue.
Lyra (deadpan): "If you two had thrown those attacks, you would've destroyed half the estate."
Cyrus: "And possibly the royal too. Some of them already fainted."
Rhogar and Grandfather Imperial remained silent for a beat—then looked at each other.
Both exhaled slowly.
Then—
They laughed.
A quiet, gruff, warrior's laugh.
The kind that only comes from finding a worthy fight.
Grandfather Imperial: "Would've been interesting to see who dropped first."
Rhogar: "Shame. I had a good feeling about that punch."
Lyra (stern): "Save it. Go clean up. We still have a wedding to finish."
Both warriors gave one last nod of mutual respect—sweaty, bruised, and smiling faintly—as they turned and walked off, their final clash unfinished.
But the memory of the moment?
That would last a lifetime.
________________________________________
[back in present]
Scene Transition – Outside Dark space
Back in the real world, Elara and Reyn stood surrounded by the bodies of the captains and royal soldiers.
Reyn stretched his shoulders.
"It's been two hours. He's really taking his time in there."
Suddenly, dark magic swirled on the ground—
And Imperial emerged, stepping out of the portal calmly.
Elara ran to him.
"Are you okay, Imperial?!"
She paused as she noticed the blood trailing from his ears. Without a word, she raised her hand and used her magic to gently cleanse and heal him.
"I can't believe… my blood mixed with Imperial's…" she mumbled, cheeks slightly red.
"That's basically… an indirect—"
"Stop creating your own fantasy, you delusional nerd," Reyn snapped.
Imperial adjusted his mask and put it back on.
"So that old man really held on for almost a full day…"
But then—more soldiers and captains arrived, this time bearing the banner of the Pyronis Empire, the land they were currently in.
One soldier clicked a photo of the scene—Imperial emerging from dark magic, Elara at his side, bodies surrounding them.
"I guess we're landing on the front page again," Reyn sighed.
"Good," Elara grinned. "I'll cut that newspaper and keep it. Preferably a picture with me standing close to Imperial."
"Orders?" Reyn asked, sword drawn.
"Should we eliminate them or let them go?"
Imperial's gaze narrowed.
"Those watching us… can take care of it."
Reyn and Elara blinked in confusion.
Suddenly—two figures emerged from the shadows beneath a tree.
Renji, tall and dressed in obsidian black, smirked.
"You really are a piece of work, huh?
Imperial Alden… or should I just call you Imperial?"
Vera, eyes calm and cold, stepped beside him.
"You're coming with us now… Imperial."