The figure cloaked in black commanded a palpable presence, every step sending ripples through the earth beneath him, resonating in a rhythmic pattern that reverberated through the air.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
It was as though his mere movement had tuned everyone's senses to a heightened state, each motion syncing with the beat of his own heart, audible to all who stood witness. "Who could this be?" the mercenaries whispered among themselves, their curiosity matched only by their apprehension. Frozen in place, not a soul among the hundred soldiers dared to break the tense silence with even the slightest gesture.
The heartbeat pulses in a steady rhythm:
Thump-thump, thump-thump, a primal cadence echoing through the area.
"Damn it! What's wrong with me? How could it be?! ME! AFRAID!!??" Kyros' thoughts raced, swirling in a tempest of disbelief and self-doubt. He then slammed both of his feet on the ground, and shook off the fear.
The dark figure advanced steadily toward Kyros, his form obscured by the black robe that cloaked him entirely. With deliberate intent, he withdrew a scepter from within its folds, revealing aged hands that belied the cloak's mysterious concealment. The scepter, stark white amidst the darkness, radiated an ethereal glow from within, with light pulsating throughout its length. At its tip, a clock stood poised, its hands marking the passage of time. Behind his robe, a sword with etheral symbols on it. Halting between the mercenaries, the figure held sway, freezing them in place with an unseen force, rendering them immobile in his presence.
image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/07ada211-fff2-4257-8b15-de9fc02db66d/0_0.webp]
"That's a nice sword, I want it!" thought Kyros.
"Ahhh! It's Aldeen?! Who else could it be?!" the mercenary's voice echoed with a mixture of shock and recognition as the truth hit him like a thunderbolt.
"fool! if it was Aldeen, we wouldve been dead by now! Must Ongloid's technique, I think his our ally?!" said one of them.
"Stay on guard everyone?!" others said, and the mercenaries were wry of the dark figure, not knowing whether to consider him an ally or enemy. But they had to also deal with Kyros.
The dark figure wielded his scepter, weaving magic to conjure icy arrows that streaked through the air toward Kyros. With lightning reflexes, Kyros evaded some of the arrows, but others threatened to pierce his defenses. In a bold move, he summoned flames to form a protective barrier, melting the arrows upon contact.
"Why would Aldeen attack the kid?!" pondered others, confusion mingling with the remnants of fear as they tried to make sense of the situation.
"Wait, it's an ally, it's not Aldeen!!" breathed a relieved mercenary, the tension lifting as realization dawned.
"Hmph! At least I know now you're an enemy," Kyros thought, his resolve hardening. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice steady despite the tension in the air, as he faced the cloaked figure.
Kyros focused his energy, channeling it into his legs as he began to circle the cloaked figure with intense speed. It was his favorite maneuver, the very one he had employed against Mashle. With trained precision, he searched for any hint of weakness in the dark figure's defenses. Suddenly halting, he unleashed a barrage of energy balls, aiming to pierce through the cloak and strike his mysterious adversary. Each projectile crackled with raw power as it surged toward its target, determined to uncover the truth behind the enigmatic facade.
The enigmatic figure responded swiftly, weaving his magic to conjure shields made of snow, effortlessly nullifying each of Kyros's attacks. Each energy ball met its icy barrier, dissipating harmlessly against the formidable defense erected by the cloaked figure.
Continuing his onslaught, Kyros pressed his assault relentlessly. Yet, in a sudden moment of calculated precision, the figure thrust his scepter into the ground, unleashing a wave of chilling frost that encased the entire area in ice. With lightning reflexes, Kyros leaped into the air, narrowly avoiding the icy grip threatening to ensnare him.
A mercenary, witnessing Kyros's formidable abilities, felt a shiver of fear creep down his spine. "Everyone, target the man with the red band! If he's left standing, he'll prove to be a formidable adversary!" he shouted, recognizing the potential danger Kyros posed amidst the chaos of battle.
As the horde descended upon him, Kyros found himself engulfed in a whirlwind of hand-to-hand combat. With each jab and strike aimed his way, he fought back valiantly, parrying blows and retaliating with bursts of flame that scattered his assailants. But amidst the chaos, the relentless barrage of icy arrows continued to hone in on him, threatening to overwhelm his defenses.
"Damn it! This is too much to handle!" Kyros exclaimed, frustration seeping into his voice as he struggled to keep up with the relentless onslaught. Despite his best efforts, the sheer number of adversaries and the relentless assault of the cloaked figure's icy attacks left him feeling outnumbered and outmatched. With every passing moment, the weight of the battle bore down upon him, testing the limits of his endurance and resolve.
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“Fine!! Just what I needed!” he smirked then added; “this battle is not merely a test of strength, but a testament to the power of the human spirit”.
“Ahhhhhhhh!” He roared, and lunged towards the endless number of soldiers coming his way. The sheer force of Kyros's attack sent shockwaves rippling through the air, toppling his adversaries like mere puppets in the face of a tempest. However, the number of soldiers proved to be too much, he took many punches from mercenaries adept in hand-to-hand combat, and couldn't manage to avoid a bunch of energy balls coming his way. He fell to his knee, "I must give it a try, I must use a large area of attack spell!". With a primal roar, he tapped into the depths of his inner power, the cloaked figure unleashed a bunch of icy arrows towards him, but the energy surrounding him melted the arrows, and the he unleashed a shockwave of energy that engulfed the battlefield in a blinding light. The blinding light, pierced the brain of the mercenaries along with the shockwaves and sent most of them flying, bodies slammed the rough terrain of the mountains, while others dropped unconscious.
Gasping for breath, Kyros felt the sting of his battered and bruised body, testament to the ferocity of the battle. Yet, through the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "The blinding light technique," he whispered triumphantly to himself. Finally, he had mastered it.
Energy Manipulation:
In the world of energy manipulation, there are different ways to shape and transform matter. One way is by imposing your will onto the essence of matter itself, while another involves coaxing it through the power of emotion. However, there's a lesser-known method where matter can not only change its form but also explode and transform into something else entirely.
Imagine Kyros, who has just reached a new level of mastery in energy manipulation. Instead of merely reshaping matter, he's now able to infuse it with the essence of ideas. Let's break it down: the basic level of energy manipulation alters the shape of matter, while the intermediate level involves blending matter with tiny particles of imagination.
Kyros has just tapped into this intermediate level. He accomplished this by merging the concept of light with the particles of air around him. In doing so, he both enticed the air with the idea of light and directed the transformation through his own will, allowing the process to unfold smoothly.
image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/08fd09e7-eb1e-4ac2-9c38-74d85aef98b1/0_0.webp]
"Ha ha ha ha! There's nothing like the thrill of a good fight! I love this shit!" Kyros exclaimed, his eyes wide and ablaze with excitement. Despite being ragged and bruised, he refused to give in. Most of the mercenaries lay defeated around him, but a dozen still stood, their resolve tested.
As the cloaked figure, whose intervention had been minimal until now, raised his scepter, a cascade of water began to swirl in a vortex around him. The vortex grew in intensity, pulling in small pebbles and causing the trees to sway. The remaining mercenaries struggled to keep their footing against the force of the vortex.
Despite his exhaustion, Kyros refused to back down. With determination etched on his face, he raised his hand to resist the swirling tempest. For Kyros, a true lover of combat, quitting was never an option.
"What's he planning? It looks like his energy manipulation leans towards ice! Mine's fire, and now I've just tapped into light. But I'm drained. How am I supposed to defend against that blast? That energy vortex is nearly three times my maximum capacity! Who is this guy?" Kyros mused, his mind racing with questions.
"Should I flee? No way! Me, run? I've come too far. I'd rather face death than turn tail!" he declared, his resolve unwavering.
"But here I am, still standing, right? Let's keep this dance going! Bring it on!" he challenged, his words carried away by the wind that cast aside the cloaked figure's cloak.
"Sankara? I thought he was dead! We all witnessed his demise in Jambodia!" the mercenaries exclaimed in disbelief.
"Must be Lilithia's technique, no other explanation! How else could a supposedly dead man move?" one of them remarked, his skepticism evident.
The figure bore lifeless eyes and an expressionless face, his skin desiccated and resembling that of a zombie. Sankara, once a renowned warrior of Jambodia, was widely believed to be deceased.
"Hmm... That makes sense now. I was wondering why I couldn't sense his soul but I could hear his heart, it must be some technique that let you revive a dead heart. Someone's controlling his lifeless body. Blood manipulation? Unlikely. I suppose I'll concentrate my energy into my eyes to get a better look at what's happening here."
In a flash, the swirling vortex ceased its pull, transforming abruptly into a massive ball of snow. Then, without pause, Sankara manipulated the snowball, breaking it down into countless tiny ice particles resembling bullets. These icy projectiles were numerous enough to obscure the light from the sky.
"I suppose he won't make it easy for me to see. He's already on the offensive. I should have dealt with him sooner. Blast it!" Kyros cursed, realizing his mistake.
In an instant, the icy bullets rained down upon Kyros like a relentless storm. He assumed a defensive stance, attempting to swat them away with his hands, but each impact sent searing pain coursing through his body. With every strike, his vision blurred, and the agony intensified.
Feeling helpless against the onslaught, Kyros gritted his teeth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could sense the tendons in his shoulders tearing under the relentless assault, leaving him with only one functional hand to defend himself. Each moment felt like an eternity as he fought to stay upright, the pain threatening to overwhelm him.
His body teetered on the brink of collapse, but his indomitable spirit refused to yield. Sweat streamed down his face, obscuring one eye and leaving his vision hazy. Summoning every ounce of willpower, Kyros drew in a ragged breath and closed his eyes tightly. With a tremendous effort, he directed the last remnants of his energy to his right eye.
And then, he opened his eyes.
"Haha! Blurgh," he coughed, blood staining his lips. Despite the pain and fatigue, a defiant smile played on his lips. With a trembling hand, he raised his palm and unleashed a small, fiery laser beam, aiming just slightly above the head of Sankara.
With a final, puppet-like collapse, Sankara crumpled to the ground. Exhausted beyond measure, Kyros also succumbed, his body falling limply to the earth, unconscious.
Kyros, the lone victor against ninety mercenaries and the enigmatic warrior whose body had been manipulated, lay motionless. As the dust settled, the remaining ten mercenaries stood atop Kyros's fallen form, their intentions shrouded in mystery. Whether they would choose to end his life, take him captive, or subject him to unknown torment remained uncertain. Only time would reveal their ultimate decision.