The Hexed Symbol

As both combatants took measured steps forward, Keres found himself reassessing the earlier exchanges.

'He's always one step ahead,' the teenager's mind churned with a disconcerting realization.

Invel had been reading his every movement, and this unnerving awareness fueled the gears of contemplation within him.

Reevaluating their earlier exchanges, Keres discerned Invel's pattern of staying on the defensive, waiting patiently for the right moment to counter.

This sparked an audacious idea. If the prince fancied a defensive approach, maybe he could exploit this predictability to his advantage— he thought, steeling himself for the impending move.

Silence reigned over the forest and as Invel assumed his casual stance, beckoning Keres forward, a momentary shudder passed through the masked teenager. However, fear transformed into determination.

Keres burst forward, aiming to end the batlle in a single exchange.

When he reached a calculated distance, he catapulted himself into the air.

'Go on ahead, dodge this, Invel!' His smirk widened. His glistening blade arced down with deceptive intent. Yet, the grin he once wore soon distorted into a visage of shock.

"Huh?" The teenager's senses rang a warning as Invel's foot burst through the biting cold on its path towards his stomach.

THWACK!

In a flash, something battered Keres' abdomen, the impact rippling through his body.

As the masked teenager rebounded into the air, a sharp gasp escaped his mouth, and Invel's words pierced through his eardrums like a surgical needle.

"An explosive feint?" The prince took a tormenting pause. "Bold move, but you've gotten a bit too predictable, amateur!"

Those words tore into Keres as he tried to steady himself prior to his landing.

But before the teenager could land on his feet, he sensed another brewing storm.

"Damn it!" Keres bit his lower lip.

Invel pivoted, his other foot sailing into the air, ready to kill.

Keres gritted his teeth amd raised his sword to guard himself against the impending sledgehammer. Unfortunately, this played right into the prince's plans.

Invel cleverly transitioned his explosive attack, coiling like a python, his instep hooking Keres' hand.

CRACK

A sickening snap rang out and Keres' left wrist was left in ruin.

"Aaaah!" The teenager screamed, the sword he once tightly clenched dropping to the ground. His wrist was broken, snapped like a brittle twig.

Involuntary gasps escaped his lips as his body tensed in agony. Unfortunately, the ruthless prince didn't intend to stop there.

"Brace yourself, it's not over yet, vermin!" Invel warned. And as Keres clutched his fractured wrist, wincing in pain, the prince lowered his center of gravity, coiling and twining with serpentine grace.

Keres desperately tried to block but it was futile.

[Slaughter Arts: Blossoming Trifecta]

Invel's viper-like movements flowed with lethal precision, unfolding a masterful dance of his deadly martial prowess.

The first strike shattered Keres' ribs, the sickening crunch echoing through the forest. Without pause, the second strike landed as the wooden sword sent life-threatening shockwaves through the masked teenager's chest.

Unable to watch the scene any longer, Inara shut her eyes as the second strike melded seamlessly into the third.

But as the killing blow swung towards the teenager's head, the cracked wooden sword withered to pieces.

Despite the final attack failing, Keres had suffered injuries beyond his endurance limit. And so, he fell on his knees, mouth agape, and his face tilted towards the sky. Holding his head high, even in defeat.

Nonetheless, Invel intended to finish up what he started. He spun with devastating force but halted his attack abruptly when Inara's voice rang out.

"Big brother!" She called, her words stripping the atmosphere of its surging intensity.

"He's unconscious" She uttered, her crunching forward strides overlapping with her teary voice.

Invel's eyes widened at this revelation. He grabbed onto the teenager's mask and stripped it away.

Keres' distorted, bloodied face came into view as his lifeless body slouched to the ground with a resounding thud.

Next, Invel's breath billowed out like a wisp of smoke.

"You've hit your limit, huh?" He spoke and the winter breeze yielded to his words, rendering the surroundings speechless.

As he turned around, an inquiry immediately assaulted his ears.

"Why didn't you go easier on him?" Ina asked, doing her best to contain her emotions. But her anger was apparent in the controlled tone of her voice.

"If you heard everything he was spouting, you should understand that he always had this coming." The prince persisted.

"Then, if I was the one who challenged you, would you have treated me the same way?" Her eyes shot open as she asked, slightly elevating her voice.

Invel, taken aback by her words, released a sigh.

"You should know by now that I'd never—" He spoke earnestly but halted as Inara's complexion suddenly turned pallid.

Her eyes caught a subtle distortion in the air. Panic overcame her face and she tensed, frantically pointing behind the prince, attempting to yell out a warning. But her voice was inaudible.

In a flash, the unmistakable sound of something launching from the snow echoed before Invel could react.

Unexpectedly, it was the unconscious Keres who flung himself into the air, as if possessed by a ghost. He rapidly coiled his limbs around Invel's neck and body, ensnaring the prince in a rear naked choke.

His unresponsive eyes meant he was still unconscious. But a mysterious dot appeared on his forehead, gradually expanding into a clearer symbol.

The cold air thickened as the teenager's arms, cinched together, tightening.

Invel's mind raced.

There was no way Keres could muster this level of strength in his half-dead state. The fact that it was happening meant Invel was about to witness the mysterious powers of a Deathbringer once again.

Inara, on the sidelines, clenched her fists. Her legs flung her forward, urgent to intervene. But the prince soon dispelled her worries.

He separated Keres' entangled legs, sprinting forward towards the nearest tree. Then, he ascended up its trunk and propelled himself into a backflip, escaping the teenager's lock.

The snow crunched heavily upon the prince's landing, and both combatants stood upright, facing each other in a silent standoff.

Invel maintained a wary distance, processing the unexpected twist. He took a moment to catch his breath, surprise and excitement flashing across his face.

An unspoken tension brewed in the night's air, and as the dream-roaming teenager wriggled his wrist—

CRA-CRACK

The resounding echo of snapping bones, shattered the silence. In the blink of an eye, Keres' left wrist, once twisted unnaturally like a contorted branch, underwent a miraculous restoration.

Moreover, the expanding dot on his forehead steadied into a composite tattoo-like design— a loop-headed cross intertwined with a complex swirling pattern, resembling a mandala. Inara, curious but cautious, couldn't help but fixate her eyes on the symbol.

She held her suspicions as to what it was but still decided on seeking confirmation from her more experienced older brother.

"What... is that?" She questioned, and the confirmation she sought immediately arrived.

"Ina, the symbol you're looking at is a 'Hexed Glyph,' remember it well."

"It marks him as a descendant of the 'Incarnate of Destruction'— the founder of the Red Dynasty, those free from the laws binding our world." Invel revealed in a grave voice.

In response, the princess shuddered in disbelief. Her eyes widened and she immediately attempted voicing her concern.

"Then... that means—" However, before she could air her thoughts, Invel sharply interjected.

"Correct, it means our friend here is a Deathbringer."

A heavy silence enveloped the forest, and Invel spoke up once more.

"If you understand that, then please stand back. These guys are really unpredictable when they go frenzy mode." The prince paused.

"Besides, it's getting chilly out of nowhere. I'm suddenly in the mood to stretch my arms a little bit" A lengthy grin played on his face as he added, taking off his jacket.

Squaring his shoulders, he unleashed a powerful stretch with his arms extending like coiled springs.

Inara took a deep breath. She had finally accepted that the situation had gone beyond her control and could only stand back, patiently watching how her brother handled it.

'Please!' A single word reverberated within her mind. And in the suspense that filled the air, her heart began racing with concern.

An eerie quiet enveloped the clearing as the unconscious Keres lumbered forward, like a puppet caught in the strings of an unseen mastermind. A muffled, irregular breath escaped his lips as his blood-marred face formed a macabre picture.

His limbs swayed clumsily, and his bloodshot eyes twitched beneath their lids, giving an uncanny semblance of life.

The silence hung heavy, pregnant with anticipation. And in the next instant—

The tranquility shattered; a rapid tempest of movement descended upon the surroundings. And the battleground became ensnared in a ferocious display that left even Inara mesmerized.

The air crackled, leaves danced, and surrounding trees quivered with the impact of their blows.

As Inara watched the blurry afterimages, a gnawing sensation welled up within her mind.

More than anything, she hated close combat training. She would never reach Invel's level of athleticism no matter how much she tried, and always felt her chakra techniques were more than sufficient.

However— 'Inara you have to do better. You're far from strong enough to be whiny about training,' she thought as her heart pounded at an accelerated rhythm.

Picturing herself in a battle under chakra restriction, a flicker of inferiority creased her charming features. When the self-imposed burden of her ambitions pressed upon her shoulders, she bit her lower lip in contemplation.

Her hair fluttered in the cold breeze, and as she extended her hand forward, a descending snowflake landed in her palm. Clenching her fingers around the delicate snowflake, the once heavy burden morphed into a steely resolve.

"It's high time I quit running away," she said, an ember of courage brightening her complexion. Determination fueled her hands as she packed her hair into a ponytail. She hurried forward, following after the traces of battle.