General Setka Vs General Amon Khaldun Part 2

Setka's eyes gleamed with the pure, crystalline white of his Chronotex as he vanished from Amon’s sight, only to reappear at his right side in a flash. "You may have dealt me some damage," Setka taunted, gripping both his sword and Amon’s in each hand, "but now it’s time for a veteran to teach you a few things. Your sword is the last thing you should’ve let me take."

Amon's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw his own sword in Setka's grasp. He froze, stunned by the realization of his mistake.

Setka wasted no time, positioning Amon’s sword in his left hand and his own in his right. His voice echoed across the battlefield, "The Rain of a Thousand and Twenty-Four Swords!"

With blinding speed, Setka began his assault. Amon, using his power to absorb the kinetic energy of each strike, found himself on the defensive. But Setka’s onslaught was relentless. Each strike multiplied, first two swords, then four, then eight—until the air was filled with a storm of 1,024 blades, all slashing at Amon in a relentless barrage.

Amon gritted his teeth, absorbing the blows, but Setka’s words cut through the din of battle. "Your power is incredible, Amon, but it has a weakness. How many hits can it take before it breaks you?"

On the sidelines, Drexel’s expression darkened with concern. Kairo, observing the fight, voiced his fear, "Commander Amon can take many hits, but Setka—that bastard—is delivering over 1,024 hits per second. He can’t withstand this much."

Captain Naya Imani, equally shocked, gasped, "He can count that high, and keep up with the strikes? This is unreal." referring to Kairos observation skills.

Kamil, on the other hand, stood frozen, barely managing to whisper, "I’m at a loss… Who will win?"

Henu, watching with his arms crossed, spoke with a tone of reverence. "Not many can outlast Setka on the battlefield," he said, addressing everyone on the balcony. The group—Yune, Noya, Jack, Kamil, Ramon, and others—turned their attention to him.

"You might think that to become a general, the leader of an army, you need to be the strongest. But that’s not true," Henu continued, his voice steady. "Setka isn’t the strongest—that title belongs to either me or Menes. But to be a general, it requires more than just strength. It requires leadership, knowledge, respect—both giving it and earning it. It requires skill, and Setka excels in the areas that matter most. He may lack in brute strength, but he more than makes up for it with his strategic mind and his ability to lead. Menes and I, we couldn’t run this army as he does. Setka has always had to find ways to compensate for what he lacks in power. He’s an expert in efficiency. He runs this country and protects its people—something even Menes and I look up to him for."

A profound silence fell over the group as they absorbed Henu’s words. They had learned something new about their general, something that deepened their respect for him.

As the battlefield grew quiet, anticipation gripped the audience. Henu, sensing the climax of the fight, raised his fist to the sky, his voice ringing out, "Setka! Do it for us!"

The sun caught his uplifted hand, casting a golden glow over the scene. The crowd, inspired by Henu’s call, erupted into cheers. "Setka! Setka! General Setka!" The chant grew louder, sending goosebumps down Jack’s arms.

On the battlefield, Amon’s kinetic energy-absorbing shield began to show signs of strain. Cracks appeared, spreading with each of Setka’s blows. Blood trickled down Amon’s face as some strikes penetrated his shield. Desperation filled his eyes as he struggled to maintain his defense.

But it was too late. With a final, shattering strike, Setka’s relentless assault overwhelmed Amon’s defenses. The stored kinetic energy that Amon had been absorbing turned against him, unleashing from within. The force of the explosion sent Amon hurtling backward, crashing into the wall with a deafening impact, far more violent than the one Setka had endured.

The battlefield fell silent as the dust settled, the outcome of the battle unmistakable.

Kairo's smirk grew wider as he stepped forward, his voice booming across the coliseum. "You Thebans aren’t strong enough to beat our general!" His taunt echoed, provoking the Royal Army’s soldiers and their crowd, who glared back with rising anger.

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Despite the devastating assault, Amon stood back up, his expression grim and his face smeared with blood. His once-imposing armor now hung in shattered pieces.

Menes watched with a look of disgust, leaning over to Henu. "That brat needs to be quiet. I can’t stand it when he talks."

Ramon, sharing the sentiment, mirrored Menes’ irritated expression.

Amon slowly raised his hands, his voice defiant. "General Setka, your strength is remarkable, but I’m not done yet."

Setka wiped the blood from his lip, a confident smirk playing on his face. "I’ve already won," he declared calmly.

Henu’s smile broadened as he turned to the group. "Setka had defeated Amon from the beginning."

Kamil, perplexed, furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

Ramon and Kasib, equally confused, chimed in. "We don’t get it. How’s he won if Amon is saying he’s not done yet?"

Kairo, growing angrier by the second, shot back. "What does he mean by ‘he’s won’? Is he delusional? He doesn’t stand a chance against our General Amon!"

Even Drexel, usually the most composed, found himself baffled. But as the realization dawned on him, his jaw dropped. "Look up there…"

Everyone’s eyes turned skyward.

Yune gasped, "How… when…"

Jack’s eyes widened in disbelief. "How did he…"

Setka, sensing the shock ripple through the crowd, taunted Amon one last time with a victorious smile. "Victory is mine for the taking."

To everyone’s disbelief, fragments of light were suspended in the sky, unnoticed during the intensity of Setka’s ground-based assault. These lights, like silent harbingers of doom, hovered with a chilling stillness.

Menes explained, "Setka said he delivered 1,024 strikes, but everyone overlooked one crucial detail—that count was for one sword. He used that to distract us, ensuring no one would focus their dark energy elsewhere to sense what he was really doing. Then, using Amon’s own sword, he sent another 1,024 strikes into the sky. As they ascended, they slowed down, almost like a ball of light hanging in the air. But as they began to fall, they regained speed and entered Setka’s range, where he could control them."

Drexel, now drenched in sweat, shook his head in disbelief. "There’s no way he managed all this, and concealed his intentions from so many dark energy users. We didn’t even detect a thing."

The lights, now plummeting faster and faster, targeted Amon. With each impact, explosions reverberated through the coliseum—1,024 in total. The crowd watched in stunned silence as Amon, overwhelmed, finally collapsed. Setka had indeed won, carefully calibrating his attack to knock Amon out without killing him.

Raising his sword in triumph, Setka basked in the roaring cheers of the crowd. A young boy from the beginning of the festival waved his arms frantically, shouting, "I knew you would win, General Setka! You’re the best!"

In the Royal Army’s balcony, joy erupted. Kamil embraced Ramon in a tight hug, while Noya slapped Kasib’s back in celebration. Khonsu smiled contentedly, and Memnon took a leisurely bite of his apple, while Jack’s gaze remained fixed on the battlefield, eagerly anticipating the moment when he, too, would have his chance to showcase his strength.

Akhet watched in awe, almost tempted to slow down time to catch every detail of Setka's masterful performance. "I could have slowed time to see what was going on," he admitted to himself, "but if I did, my cover would have been blown. I've got to admit, Setka’s fight kept me on the edge of my seat."

Commander Isabella Rossi gritted her teeth, her frustration barely contained. "That bastard got another victory." But before her emotions could give her away, Commander Maximilian Weber of the Merchants Guild squeezed her hand tightly, meeting her gaze with a silent warning to maintain her composure.

Renjiro Akihiko, leader of the Vanguard, was left speechless, his mouth hanging open in amazement. "Ru, Atom, did you guys see that?" he shouted, still in shock. Atom, his eyes wide with disbelief, nodded. "Wow, that is incredible." Ru, equally stunned, added, "Even with my power, I wasn’t able to perceive what he did beforehand."

The Anubis, still cloaked in his mysterious mask resembling an Egyptian cat, stared intently at Setka. His hood cast a shadow over his face, obscuring his thoughts.

Tarek Amunet, the sinister figure known for controlling people with his poison—the same man responsible for killing the two soldiers on Jack's journey with General Setka—smirked to himself. "Setka, last time I couldn’t quite get you, but I’m sure I’ll have better luck next time."

As the battlefield cleared, the ground was littered with craters, and the walls were in ruins from the intense battle. Drexel stepped forward, his expression calm and focused. From his balcony, he conjured a pathway made of brick, walking steadily across it until he reached the center. There, he spread his arms wide. "Illusion Patch!" he called out. Instantly, the broken rubble and gaping holes began to repair themselves, the coliseum returning to its original, pristine condition. As Drexel made his way back, Nefru from the Anubis watched closely, analyzing his power. "His ability allows him to create illusions and control things within them. I wonder... does he set traps within his creations? Can he sense everything inside them? I’d better stay on my guard."

Old Man Jules, ever the charismatic announcer, stepped forward to introduce the next match. "The previous battle was a hit among the watchers, but now, the excitement continues! The next battle features Jack Sterling of the Royal Army and Captain Elio Maren! This is the clash of two newbies—each representing the newest soldiers in their respective armies. Let’s see who will emerge victorious!"