Chapter 41

Staring at the warrior, Tergon knew that even though his opponent didn't show it, he was nevertheless taken aback by his transformation. So this was how the cosmic pirates were able to take down millions of soldiers and battleships without ever failing - by simple evolving - no wonder the likes of Kied could never be taken down by the Feudal Order, no matter how strong and fiercely armed they came, they still weren't their match even though they came as an army, because the war was truly within and like the arena, they were war.

"What's holding you back", Tergon called, "I know it's not in your nature to be the aggressor but, there is no aggressor in the arena, there's only the victor and vanquished."

Charging at him Tergon made the first move, striking, his sword locked with the warrior's, the impact was thunderous, pushing Tergon's opponent backwards, sending him skidding on his knees, their metal pads exhuming sparks as they screeched. Rising to his feet, the warrior seemed to have been taken aback by the impact which he had received from that strike. Tergon not wasting a single moment came upon him, slashing furiously like a whirlwind, each blow pushing his opponent backwards as he strained to sustain his balance at the same time, trying to Parry Tergon's mighty blows.

Tergon rammed his shield into the warrior's with all his might, sending his opponent flying into the air but, the warrior still managed to land on his feet. Tergon's being frayed through the distance, emerging behind the warrior, he brought his blade slashing down, burning and steaming of the astral energy it now possessed, it sent the warrior's sword flying from his grip, severed in halves. Swirling around, Tergon sent another furious blow at the warrior, his sword burning through his opponent's armour, lurching a stab, the blade dug it's fangs into the warrior, sending him limp on falling to the ground - dead.

Tergon drew his sword from the body of the now fallen warrior who's being frayed like a passing emerald dune into the ether, lifting his sword into the air triumphantly, Tergon called.

"The fourth duel is mine", he proclaimed, "who do you wish to send next ?!"

"Interesting", their leader intoned, "you might have defeated one of us and that calls for an ovation but, as the battle progresses, what comes next, is always worse than the first."

Another warrior from the group walked into the ring, marching forwards, his boots clanging as he made burning strides and a flaring battle-axe in his hands, without any hesitation, he charged at Tergon, sending a fierce blow straight at him. Tergon ducked. swirling around, he struck the warrior's hammer with his sword, his new opponent staggered but quickly regained his balance, he too spun around, blocking Tergon's blow with his axe and unsheathing his sword, he unleashed a furious strike at Tergon. Blocking the incoming blow with his shield, Tergon broke free from the struggle, ramming his opponent with his shield. Their armours clanged, exhuming sparks, the warrior impending Tergon's fierce progression, crossing his sword and battle-axe, he created a barricade. Both pulled away from each other, leaping into the air, both warriors unleashed halos from their cores, their aim was true as they both got hit by the other, the explosion sending them crashing to the ground.

Lightning storms immortal, they rose from the earth, defying the endurance of mortals, crashing into each other, the conflict began once again. Tergon parried the blows from the warrior as he was driven backwards, but gaining an edge with his moves, he once again took on an offensive stance. Evenly matched, swords, shield and battle-axe exhuming flames, they both raved. The battle rising to astral heights, that storm brewed within their cores, erupting like tidal waves of a quaking expanse, they crashed into each other, both struggling with the burning waves his opponent wielded.

Tergon felt the eruption pushing him beyond his limits, making his muscles twitch and burn as they attained that lightning sharp and sonic rate of combat. His slashes were fiercer and he parried his opponent's blows with an even higher level of accuracy than before, his being frayed through the distance as he ducked and sidestepped the blows from his opponent, always sending him stumbling forwards, pulled by the impact of his miscalculated strikes. Tergon always struck from a superior stand, always pushing his opponent towards the edge, he felt the heat of battle now rising within him, it's stream like form made his veins it's pathway, igniting that fire within Tergon, this force made his being rave.

The warrior wasn't backing away either, he too charged at Tergon with both his sword and battle-axe both drawn and blazing, both fighters rammed into each other like bloodlust bulls, their horns locking, sent the floor of the arena shaking. The skies above rattled with thunderstorms as those streaks of lightning hailed upon them, their cores rising, taking them towards that height. They became dragons soaring, clawing away at their burning hides.

The two conflicting storms arose, their tidal waves crashing into each other, both fighters swam in this river of the heat of battle, attaining a frenzy which pulled their beings apart, they nevertheless refused to be pulled apart from their warring selves. It was lore in enflamed lusters, the lyrical clash of lightning.

Tergon felt that heat rise from within, it was the clash of centuries. That instinct which throbbed across the fabrics of the astral plains, far beyond the zeal of battle, it was the call of the warring voyage, they burning transition to the astral heights, it was the ever resonating call of infinity making the depths of his soul ripple, his burning mind quake and his flame infested vision blaze. Tergon was now a form storm like and so was his opponent.

Their swords locking, shield and axe ramming, they were a world at war and within these seas attained those heights which made them gore at themselves. Past the boundaries of reasoning, they now fought by instincts alone, an astral instinct which pulled them through this sea of conflict, of a sword like realm that seared through their veins and they, were the lords of their realms.

Tergon gave his all, never wanting to give in, never wanting to be defeated. It wasn't his mind that was pushing him forward, reality was now too far from being called dead as only the subconscious now played the supreme role of tyrant and dictator, wishing their burning beings to collide and ride their warring waves. Both battlers were giving in to the maneuvers of their opponent as they both countered with stellar skill, panthers clawing at each other without being able to hit their mark. They were deniably unlike poles which kept rushing at each other only to be thrown backwards by the opposing forces that burnt within their souls and they did. Drawing to themselves, they built those labyrinths of fire and orb like storms, they gnawed at themselves, their fangs burying their fury into their beings.

His arms shook, his head raved and his being quaked, this was a test of endurance but, how long could he be able to hold on before his opponent would wear out, which was unlikely to ever happen with the way the warrior was persistently fighting. The warrior fought as the burning reserve within him was infinite and Tergon realized that the only way he was going to win this duel, was to push beyond the limits of his opponent, just as he had done with the previous one. Instead of allowing himself to be pushed by the winds, he'd take the lead by pulling the wind by their strings. This was the only way he was going to end up victorious in this battle, by becoming stronger than the obstacle itself.

Tergon allowed the impulses lead him instead of pushing himself, an effort which resulted in a struggle. Allowing himself become the arena, allowing his breath become the battle and the clanging of steel his heartbeat. Tergon allowed his subconsciousness transit to that higher domain of existence, making him rave. He became a destructive cyclone, hailing upon his opponent like a cosmic avalanche. His slashes mountainous and his stabs lightning sharp, they cut their way through the burning waves of this conflict. This was why he lived, this was why he took in these burning breaths, existence itself was a struggle, but, with a smile, a smile which was now etched on his scarred face, existence becomes a purpose.