Chapter 146: The Salvation Duo
The battle finally paused, if only for a moment.
Amid the devastation they had created, Daito Greyhell and Gyoran Chitsujo stood facing one another, their chests rising and falling as they struggled to regulate their breathing. Blood stained their clothes, injuries weighed heavily on their movements, and yet neither man looked away. Even now, as their bodies demanded rest, their minds continued working, searching for weaknesses and calculating the next move.
The crimson desert stretched for miles around them, but it no longer resembled the desolate wasteland they had encountered upon arriving in this dimension. Ancient skeletons lay shattered across the sand, towering rock formations had collapsed into heaps of rubble, and entire sections of the landscape looked as though giants had waged war there.
"Pttho!..'
Daito spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
Then he moved.
BOOM!!
His leg whipped forward, and his foot connected directly with Gyoran's ribs in a clean, devastating kick. There was nothing particularly flashy about the technique, nor was there anything complicated in its execution. It was simply an efficient strike delivered at the right moment, with the correct positioning and enough force to produce the desired result.
The way a Greyhell would do it.
WHAAAAAM!!
Gyoran was launched backward, his body cutting through the air before crashing into the crimson sand. He skidded across the desert for hundreds of feet, carving a deep trench through the ground until friction finally brought him to a stop.
Dust rolled around him, concealing his figure beneath a thick cloud of red.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Gyoran slowly rose to his feet, brushing the sand from his jacket as he turned his attention toward Daito. This time, however, he wasn't merely studying his opponent's stance or searching for an opening in his defense. He was looking at the man himself, taking in the blood covering his face, the broken shoulder, the damaged ribs, and the torn bandages hanging loosely from his body.
Most importantly, he was looking at the fact that Daito was still standing.
Despite everything that had happened, despite the injuries that had accumulated throughout their battle, Daito Greyhell continued to stand before him as though surrender had never entered his mind.
Gyoran smiled.
There was no mockery in his expression this time, nor was there any trace of his usual arrogance. It was the smile of a man who had finally witnessed something extraordinary for himself.
"I acknowledge it."
The wind swept across the battlefield, carrying crimson sand between them as Gyoran straightened his coat.
"The Greyhell family."
Daito narrowed his eyes slightly. "What about them?"
"The stories," Gyoran replied, his gaze never leaving Daito's face. "The soldiers, the heroes, the monsters they defeated, and the impossible things they accomplished. I've heard those stories for years, and I always assumed most of them had been exaggerated with every retelling."
His smile widened.
"I was wrong."
Daito remained silent, unable to determine whether Gyoran was simply acknowledging his abilities or referring to something far more significant. Before he could ask, however, the atmosphere began to change.
It was subtle at first, like the strange stillness that descended upon the world moments before a lightning strike. The wind seemed less important, the surrounding ruins felt suddenly distant, and something in Daito's instincts stirred with an intensity that made every muscle in his body tighten.
It was the same sensation animals experienced when a predator entered their territory.
Pure, unmistakable danger.
Gyoran's expression grew serious, and for the first time since they had entered this dimension, there were no jokes, no casual comments, and no playful smiles to soften the tension between them. His entire demeanor changed, leaving behind only the cold, deliberate intent of a man who had finally decided to reveal what he was truly capable of.
"For that admiration," Gyoran said, taking off his cool glasses, "I'll stop holding back."
Fwooo....
Silence settled over the desert.
Daito's instincts erupted, every nerve in his body warning him that something terrible was about to happen. It wasn't fear that tightened his chest, but recognition, because if Gyoran was telling the truth, then everything they had experienced so far had merely been a fraction of his actual capabilities.
The realization seemed absurd, and impossible, even.
Yet Daito knew one thing about Gyoran Chitsujo: whatever else the Boss might lie about, he wasn't someone who treated combat as a game when it came to revealing the limits of his own abilities.
Gyoran slowly raised both hands and pushed them into the empty space before him.
Space folded.
The invisible storage he used to conceal his belongings manifested once more, its boundaries bending like an unseen curtain being drawn open. Space itself seemed to yield to his movements, revealing a collection of weapons that had no business existing alongside the ordinary equipment Daito had encountered throughout his life.
The first weapon resembled a massive cannon fused with a long, angular rifle. Glowing circuitry ran along its body, illuminating its mechanical components with an unnatural light, while its oversized barrel suggested that whatever it fired was never intended to inflict ordinary damage.
The second weapon was considerably shorter and more compact, yet something about its design made it appear even more dangerous. Its rotating chamber and reinforced frame gave it the appearance of an advanced firearm built for rapid, devastating attacks rather than precision alone.
Gyoran lifted both weapons with practiced ease.
GLANG!
HUMMM....
A low hum began to emanate from their mechanisms as energy coursed through their circuitry, and the air surrounding their barrels started to vibrate.
"They're called..." Gyoran began, allowing the growing hum to fill the silence before finishing his sentence. "The Salvation Duo."
Daito immediately decided he didn't like that name.
Not one bit.
CLING–CLING–GLANG!
The larger weapon began to unfold, its mechanical segments shifting and locking into place as the barrel expanded. Light gathered inside the weapon's core, growing brighter until its glow cast pale reflections across Gyoran's face.
"The first fires homing layer-beams," Gyoran explained. "Once they acquire a target, they follow it until they connect, and when they do..."
His smile returned.
"They detonate on impact."
The second weapon clicked as its chamber rotated, each mechanical movement sounding unnervingly precise.
"The other fires explosive rounds. Think of them as grenades, except they travel faster than bullets."
Daito stared at him for a moment before his expression flattened.
"That's absurd."
"I know."
Gyoran reached into his coat again, withdrawing three rings that he slipped onto his fingers. The moment the rings settled into place, Daito sensed another change in the atmosphere around him, as though Gyoran had just activated a second layer of protection independent of the weapons in his hands.
Heat Resistance.
Water Respiration.
Shockwave Absorption.
Daito didn't need to see the equipment's inner workings to understand the implications. Those abilities were designed to protect Gyoran against environmental hazards, allowing him to operate in conditions that would incapacitate or kill an ordinary person.
More importantly, they would allow him to survive the consequences of his own attacks.
The weapons weren't merely dangerous, they were definitely catastrophic.
Gyoran had been holding back not because he lacked the ability to unleash such destructive power, but because using it carelessly would endanger his group and everyone caught in the surrounding area.
Here, in an isolated dimension where no innocent bystanders could be caught in the crossfire, he finally had the freedom to use everything at his disposal.
This desert was the perfect battlefield.
The Boss leveled both weapons toward Daito, his voice calm and measured as he delivered the next statement.
"I am now fighting to kill."
The words hung between them.
"A legendary figure deserves a legendary death."
For a moment, the desert seemed to fall silent.
Then Daito's brain accelerated.
He began analyzing the weapons, calculating their possible trajectories, considering the distance between himself and Gyoran, and searching for any weakness that might allow him to survive the coming barrage. Charging directly at his opponent would be suicide, attempting to block the attacks would be suicide, and dodging in the open terrain would be little better.
Everything appeared to lead toward the same conclusion.
Death.
Which meant there had to be another answer, as there always was.
Daito's eyes swept across the battlefield, taking in the shattered skeletons, the towering dunes, the remaining cliffs, the scattered debris, and the enormous remains of creatures that had once dominated this strange dimension.
Information flooded his mind as he assessed distances, angles, elevations, materials, potential cover, and the relationship between the surrounding terrain and Gyoran's weapons.
Then, suddenly, everything clicked and a plan formed.
Daito didn't hesitate.
SWOOOSH!
He ran.
BOOOOOOM!!
The desert exploded beneath his feet as he launched himself forward, his battered body forcing out one last burst of speed. He raced toward a gigantic black stone formation and disappeared behind it just as Gyoran raised the larger weapon.
The Boss fired immediately.
FWOOOOOOOOOOOM!!
A brilliant beam erupted from the cannon-rifle, illuminating the desert with a white-hot glare that swallowed the surrounding landscape. The projectile streaked toward the black formation, then curved sharply in midair as its guidance system locked onto Daito's position.
It wasn't merely travelling toward its target, instead it was hunting him.
FWHOOOSH!
The beam adjusted its trajectory, following the movements of its prey until it struck the stone formation with devastating force.
Then it detonated.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Half the mountain disappeared in an instant.
The rock wasn't simply shattered or reduced to rubble. The section caught in the blast was vaporized, leaving behind an enormous cavity surrounded by incandescent dust and fragments of stone that had been blasted into the sky.
Before the smoke could settle, Gyoran raised the second weapon.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Explosive rounds crossed the battlefield in rapid succession, each projectile striking with enough force to trigger a devastating detonation. Cliffs collapsed, ancient skeletons disintegrated, and enormous sections of the desert were swallowed by expanding spheres of fire.
A landscape that had taken centuries to form was being erased in seconds.
Gyoran continued firing, moving forward with the relentless determination of a walking apocalypse.
BOOM!!
BOOOOOOM!!
KRA-BOOOOOOM!!
The horizon vanished beneath fire, dust, smoke, debris, and expanding shockwaves. The explosions became so numerous that even Gyoran's view of the battlefield was eventually swallowed by the destruction, leaving him staring into a wall of smoke that concealed almost everything beyond it.
Nothing could survive that, or so it seemed.
Fwooo.....
Then something moved inside the smoke.
Gyoran's eyes narrowed as he noticed a silhouette emerging from the destruction, its outline barely visible through the drifting ash and burning debris.
The figure kept walking through the smoke, fire, and the ruins.
FWOOOSH!
Closer and closer it came until, at last, the smoke parted enough to reveal the person standing within it.
Gyoran froze.
It was Daito Greyhell.
Still alive but no longer looking quite the same.
His body was covered in armor, although it wasn't made of metal or advanced technology. Instead, enormous skeletal plates, fragments of ancient monster carapaces, and pieces of long-buried creatures had been layered across his body, held together with straps torn from his own clothing.
Some of the armor resembled rib cages reinforced around his torso, while other sections formed crude shoulder guards and protective plates over his limbs. The materials were irregular, the construction was ugly, and the overall appearance suggested that the entire thing had been assembled under circumstances in which failure would have meant immediate death.
Yet every piece had a purpose.
His vulnerable angles were covered, his critical areas had been reinforced, and the armor had been constructed from whatever materials he could find while being hunted by weapons capable of erupting mountains.
It was an improvised masterpiece.
Crude, ugly and brilliant.
Daito pointed The Piercer toward Gyoran, his eyes locked onto the Boss as a faint smile appeared across his battered face.
"Thanks."
Gyoran blinked. "For what?"
Daito adjusted one of the skeletal plates resting against his shoulder.
"You gave me building materials."
For the first time since their battle began, Gyoran genuinely looked speechless. He stared at the armor, then at Daito, as though trying to determine whether the man before him was an extraordinary fighter or simply someone whose definition of survival had become completely detached from common sense.
"Hehe...."
Then he laughed.
It was a loud, unrestrained laugh, filled with the kind of pride that could only come from witnessing something truly remarkable. He wasn't laughing at Daito's condition or mocking his improvised equipment. He was laughing because, once again, Daito had found a way to turn an impossible situation into an opportunity.
"Master Ntate really did create monsters."
Neither man waited for the other to say anything more as they launched forward.
SWOOOSH!
One carried enough firepower to erase a city, while the other advanced with nothing but a bone spear, a broken body, and a determination that refused to acknowledge the meaning of impossible.
The desert trembled beneath their feet.
The true final phase of their battle had begun.
to be continued.....