The first was a lowly bronze knight versus a gold knight. Now it was a gloried platinum knight versus an instructor.
"This day keeps getting better." Gale smirked, sitting on his comfy chair as he watched the spectacle.
Arthur dashed in so fast it created a sonic boom, rattling the very air. "Fast!" Zach's eyes widened.
Arthur moved like a bloodlustful war god as his figure flashed through the battlefield. The instructor was no better, blinking and appearing out of Zach's sightnlike a mirage of after images.
The fight reminded Zach of Sir Ingrid, as he faced off against those hunters. Fast, precise, and worst of all, devastating.
The concrete platform tore apart as both figures flashed through, clashing in a torrent of steel. Arthur's body glowed blue, moving at insane speeds.
"That must be his skill," Zach thought. The clash made the ground underneath Zach's feet tremble.
Instructor Ray grinned ear to ear. "SHOW US WHAT YOU'VE GOT, PRINCE!!!!" He yelled in excitement, dashing in with his huge greatsword.
Arthur's didn't speak, his figure moved lightning-fast, blurring into the air, rattling strikes. Ray parried them perfectly as sparks flew, illuminating the battlefield with a bright orange.
Booming echoes rippled across the field. Gasps and cries echoed from the crowd.
Arthur was relentless, pressing harder with each exchange. His bloodline shone harder than anything else for the people watching.
It felt like they were watching King Uther's shadow. The platform split under immense pressure; the surrounding grass fields erupted into flames because of the spreading sparks.
Zach's heart got faster as he watched. From his perspective, he couldn't see anything—just the two blurs of burning blade and blunted steel colliding in a furious clash that rattled everything around them.
"Should we stop them?" A female instructor turned towards Rudolf. "No," Rudolf's eyes squinted. "I want to see how this ends."
Ray did not yield; his parries became heavier, his footwork grew sharper, meeting the prince's youthful vigor head-on.
The two separated and dashed at each other again. "Oh boy..." Gale covered his ears, as if on cue; all the instructors rushed to cover their ears.
Arthur shifted his stance; his legs bent low, his shoulder coiled like a strained spring. Across from him, Ray mimicked the same movement.
And then—both of them moved. Their blades shot forward in unison, with a speed similar to that of arc lightning.
_Boom_ The blade broke the sound barrier for a moment, clashing to form a violent explosion that shattered the ground beneath them like silver lightning.
The force sent both Arthur and Ray skidding backward; their boots dug into the concrete.
The sound echoed so loud that most of the students collapsed from the sheer volume.
The sound was like an earth-deafening detonation that ripped through the air like thunder.
Argh—he clutched his ears.
Zach's skull felt like it cracked open as warm blood flowed out of his ears. The sound was enough to make his eardrums burst.
Some students fell limp—they had fainted. Zach touched the blood; he was far away from the battle, yet the sound was enough to make his eardrums burst.
"What was that...?"
Richard doubled over beside Zach, his hand tightly pressing against his ears, but his grin flickered through the pain.
"T-that—that's the Algera Thrust." Richard gritted the words out of his mouth.
"Algera Thrust?—that skill has a name?" Zach turned, blood trickling down his neck.
"Created... by the glorious sovereign... himself, King Uthur—argh." He gasped.
"It's goal—to channel the most devastating force into a single thrust." He managed to stand straight.
"Your body... your entire body turns into a whip... from the legs... into the spine, then the arms and straight into the blade."
Richard touched the blood flowing from his neck. "Didn't expect them to use it here, though."
The impact had ended their clash. The huge arena floor opened; a massive crack tore across its surface in jagged lines.
Zach couldn't see anything; dust erupted upward in a choking plume, veiling both combatants.
The haze died down, and Arthur knelt, his body riddled with cuts and gashes, still holding his shattered sword; his hand was bleeding.
Ray stood above, his greatsword snapped in half, but his eyes were steady and unmoving; sweat dripped from his forehead.
Silence loomed; the audience was too stunned to speak.
"Ah...em," Ray coughed, and a few platinum-rank students came to pick him up.
"As expected, you're the king's child, after all." He muttered.
Arthur lowered his gaze, then forced himself to his feet, throwing his sword in frustration.
"You didn't use your skill!!" He yelled in annoyance. "You were afraid of hurting me...huh?" His fist clenched; he gritted his teeth so hard his gums bled.
Zach's spine tingled as he saw the prince throwing an outrage. "He's upset...over that?" Truly, royals were ridiculous.
If Zach had survived that battle, the first thing he would do is go on his knees and thank the knight for holding back.
Or maybe that was the difference between them—the royals charge into danger, growing ever stronger, while he rots away in his comfort zone dodging whatever would push him to overcome his limits.
Zach's fists clenched; if he ever wanted to learn, he had to step outside his comfort zone.
Zach observed the deep gashes and cuts across the prince's body, but what he was worried about was Ray holding back.
Zach sighed. "I guess I'm going to have to train twice as hard from now on..."
The assembly dismissed, and murmurs filled the academy grounds. Word spread fast, and Zach gained the nickname "Rising Shape-Shifter".
*****
The Persian Empire was nestled atop a towering cliff, jagged and lonesome; it cut into the ashen skies like a lone jewel rising from the endless sea.
Below the cliff stretched a narrow oasis of fertile land—a rare sanctuary of greenery in a land plagued by war.
The same shimmered in sunlight as ships made of metal drifted towards the docks; the sail riding in the ocean winds.
"Yeah, man, I don't think—, hey, what's that?" The discussing patrol guards spotted a ship coming to a halt at the island's rocky shores.
Dark and gloomy, the ship looked like no one was aboard, but the team proceeded with caution, walking slowly towards the ship with their spears pointing outward.
"I think it's empty," a guard muttered. The guards reached the hulking ship.
Leaned on the jagged crevice were huge gashes; the ship's hull was riddled with red, adding to its gloomy feel.
No sails billowed in the wind; instead, a tattered canopy of shadows stretched across its masts.
It cracked as it came to a halt. The flash was instant.
The silhouettes moved like shadows, darting with inhuman speed.
One tore through a guard's breastplate as if it were parchment, sending his body crumpling into the sand.
Another leapt; claws raked across three helmets in a single sweep; blood sprayed like mist.
"Guard the kingdom!!!!" The docks erupted in chaos.
The captain of the guard fought valiantly; his blade glowed as he struck one beast through the skull.
But for every one that fell, two more emerged from the boat.
And then, in less than minutes, the border line was gone—torn apart.
The oasis that ringed the empire's cliff was no longer calm and safe; it was a flickering ember in a dying storm.