Chapter 22: The Clash of Powers

Casia stood in the midst of the battlefield, her heart pounding as she fought off enemy soldiers. Each clash of swords and shields echoed in her ears, a cacophony of chaos and death. Suddenly, a strange and chilling sensation washed over her, causing her to freeze in place. She felt, for a fleeting but terrifying moment, that Arthur's presence had vanished from the world. This unsettling feeling left her paralyzed, her mind racing with fear and confusion.

In that instant, a foot soldier seized the opportunity and lunged at her with a spear, his voice filled with hatred as he screamed, "Die, you damn bitch!" Casia's eyes widened in horror, unable to react in time.

But just as the spear was about to strike her, another spear flew through the air with deadly precision, piercing the soldier's head. Casia snapped back to reality, her gaze following the trajectory of the saving spear. Her eyes found August, standing some distance away, his face a mix of concern and urgency.

"What are you doing, Casia? This is a war, not a joke! Don't freeze up like that!" August shouted, his voice carrying a mixture of frustration and worry.

Casia, still trembling from the shock, tried to steady her breathing. "I felt like Arthur's presence disappeared from the battlefield," she admitted, her voice shaking with emotion.

"Don't worry. Arthur is strong. He'll be okay. But if you freeze up again, I won't be. Arthur would kill me," August retorted, trying to inject a bit of humor to lighten the tense situation.

Casia blushed slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Oh, yes, sorry," she said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She looked up at August with a cute, apologetic expression.

The scene shifted to Arthur, who was struggling for breath after being gravely injured. Time seemed to resume as Zarath withdrew his hand from Arthur's chest, blood spilling from the gaping wound and staining the ground crimson. Arthur collapsed, his body limp and lifeless.

"What a pity, a prodigy like you, dying like this," Zarath mocked, his laughter echoing across the battlefield. His voice was filled with malicious glee as he looked down at Arthur's fallen form.

As Zarath started to walk away, he suddenly sensed something powerful behind him. He turned around, his eyes widening in shock. Arthur was standing up, the wound in his chest healing rapidly. Within moments, Arthur was fully restored. His hair had turned a steely silver, and his eyes held a depth of wisdom and experience as if he had lived through countless lifetimes.

"What the heck? This doesn't make sense! You came back from the dead!" Zarath screamed in rage, his voice trembling with disbelief. "I hate you, Arthur! I hate you!" His fury boiled over as he charged at Arthur again, his hand glowing with dark energy, aiming for Arthur's chest once more.

With his newfound power from Gimir, Arthur stopped Zarath's hand with his bare hand. Though he could only use a 12% of Gimir's power, it was enough to handle Zarath. Arthur's strength was overwhelming.

Zarath, shocked and enraged, shouted, "How? How can someone like you stop my dark claw?" His voice was filled with frustration and disbelief. "You don't deserve this power!"

Consumed by his anger, Zarath stepped back, his eyes burning with fury. He clenched his fists and looked up at the sky, shouting, "Forbidden Demon Technique: Rage!" The battlefield echoed with his scream. His upper clothes tore apart as a red aura surrounded him, intensifying his power to dangerous levels.

Meanwhile, on another part of the battlefield, Guru Samarth and Sicotes were locked in a fierce battle. Samarth, thinking he had defeated Sicotes, was about to walk away when he heard a voice from behind, "Really? Do you think this is over?"

Samarth, shocked, quickly moved back as he sensed Sicotes' presence. Sicotes, not giving him a moment to breathe, attacked with a fireball. Samarth barely managed to block it, stumbling back from the impact.

"How did you dodge that?" Samarth asked, his voice filled with confusion and frustration.

Sicotes took a deep breath and replied, "You are so strong. How can someone like you be on the good side? Your attacks are too heavy," he said, fixing his neck. In his mind, Sicotes was thinking, "If I don't kill this guy, he'll be a problem later. He's too strong to be on the good side."

Sicotes charged at Samarth with full speed, and Samarth did the same. They exchanged powerful punches, moving so fast that no normal person could see them.

While they clashed, Sicotes thought, "Is this man for real? I use demonic arts, but he's on a completely different level without any."

Sicotes stopped and said, "Samarth, I'll give you one chance to live. Join us and learn demonic arts."

Samarth stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

"So that's how it is, huh?" Sicotes paused, his voice filled with a mix of disappointment and resolve. "I thought of giving you a chance, but now I have to kill you. If you stay alive and keep protecting the good, you'll be a problem later. Think again."

Samarth thought, "This isn't an empty threat. He can really kill me. He hasn't shown his full power yet. But even so, my hand is hurting a lot. It's all red. If he really tries, he can kill me."

"You remain silent, I see. Then you leave me no choice but to kill you. I'm sorry, Samarth. We could have been friends if we had met earlier." Sicotes smiled evilly. "You shall die, my friend."

To be continued...

Hey everyone, Hemal here! I have an important announcement: starting from the next chapter, the story will be moving to a premium. I hope you'll continue reading and supporting me. Your encouragement means the world to me, and I'm excited to share even more thrilling adventures with you! Thank you for being such amazing readers.