Chapter 5 : Primordial of Yellow and Hero of Lightspeed (Part 2)

(3rd Point Of View)

When light does shine, the world is engulfed in kindness, for light is hope, and light is salvation.

Therefore, let it be brighter, let it be stronger, and may there be more light.

However, be wary, for light, no matter how beautiful, no matter how kind, will always cast a shadow.

Yet, imagine what would happen when light unrelenting , even upon the greatest of all shadows, shines its brightest.

It wears an air of absolute madness, defying the very essence of darkness with its unrestrained brilliance.

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(Jaune/Primordial of Yellow Point Of View)

White... An overwhelming whiteness... An All-Exceedingly Brilliance, Endlessly Tall ... Unending Below ... Fathomlessly deep ... Extending infinitely.

The very ground began to tremble beneath its weight.

The air crackled with electrifying energy, and the sky transformed into a breathtaking canvas of radiant colors, mirroring the intensity of the released power.

Structures crumbled under the sheer might of the [Heroic Hak], reshaping the landscape.

Simultaneously, her descendants felt an overwhelming force that left them shaken and incapacitated.

The destructive aura, tearing through the fabric of space, distorted dimensions, and disoriented the Hell Gate itself.

Surviving daemons were left in awe and fear, confronted by an adversary whose power transcended the natural order.

She herself was no exception.

As he reined in the unleashed power, the aftermath bore witness to a changed landscape and a daemon horde grappling with the profound impact of an unprecedented force.

And as the light slowly started shrinking back, she finally got a good look at him.

Perched upon the golden throne of an emerald ark that would have left both magicians and scientists of Sarion a salivating mess ,that young man cut a regal figure, commanding attention and respect.

Cloaked in a dark grey coat with a crimson lining, adorned with rhomboid silver buttons, and trimmed with dark fur around the collar, he exuded an air of authority.

Underneath, he wore a grey vest over a darker grey button-up shirt, accompanied by a loose red necktie that added a touch of boldness to his ensemble.

Grey pants, accented by handcuffs hanging from his belt, seamlessly flowed into tall black boots, completing the look of a formidable ruler.

His arms were intricately wrapped in black bandages, adding an enigmatic touch to his appearance.

Multiple silver rings adorned each finger.

A spiked silver necktie ornament and a large silver dog's-head brooch with draping chains adorned his attire, exuding a sense of both power and rebellion, with a matching silver ornament on his left.

As he sat upon the throne, that man's mere presence demanded acknowledgment and respect.

Suddenly, he gracefully leaped off that strange ship, his descent marked by a controlled manner that seemed to defy gravity.

The moment his boots made contact with the transformed landscape, Jaune, the Primordial of Yellow, felt a stirring within her essence.

An overwhelming desire to engage in combat with him surged through her being, sparked by the sheer presence of this unknown man.

He approached with deliberate steps, each one resonating with an unspoken challenge; she couldn't help but be drawn into the aura of battle that enveloped them.

The air crackled with anticipation, and she could feel the magnetic pull of the impending clash—an irresistible force that stirred the very core of her being.

The atmosphere thickened with the promise of a battle between two formidable forces, and Jaune couldn't deny the exhilarating thrill that coursed through her as she readied herself for the confrontation.

She started releasing her magical power.

Finally, after all those years of waiting for that bastard Leon to fight her, a worthy challenge appeared in front of her. But first,

"Wait for a moment, [Hero]. You stand before me, Jaune, the [Primordial of Yellow] . I would like to know who you are. Speak your name."

".... Sorry for suddenly pounding into you like this. My name is Alexander Bell."

Suddenly, the man bowed slightly toward her, not enough to show submission but rather enough to show respect.

"Jaune, was it ? I bear no true grudge against you or your kin. But, in keeping with my own selfish sense of honor, I am going to beat the hell out of you."

"Beat the hell out of me, you say ? How interesting."

Their auras clashed, creating lightning which flashed between heaven and earth.

No more conversation could be said; rather, no conversation needed to be said.

For nothing but battle remained.

(3rd Point Of View)

Nuclear Magic was considered by all to be the most dangerous of all Elemental Magic, for elemental magic is the creation of a phenomenon by unveiling the laws and exploring the truth of the world.

And Nuclear magic was carnage incarnate, for it only follows one Law, which is Destruction.

As such, it's no wonder that this type of magic, especially for humans, required a large group of experienced casters to perform the most basic of spells, and even then, most can only perform the spell known as nuclear canon.

But Jaune, the "Primordial of Yellow," was different.

She was a being born during the dawn of time, before the creation of heaven and earth, as the demonic counterpart to the [seven Angels of Origin] , split from [the Great Holy Spirit of Darkness] .

She was a woman who, alongside the other primordials, ruled hell undisputed for an eternity.

Someone who, after spending hundreds of years developing more flashy and powerful variations of [Nuclear Magic] as vengeance for Leon Cromwell's interference in certain incidents, could be considered the most skilled [Nuclear Magic] user in the world.

But she was facing a man who has long stepped into the "Territory Of The Gods," be it in terms of skills, powers, or knowledge.

A [Nuclear Flame] enveloped the battlefield in a devastating thermonuclear explosion.

The air crackled with unimaginable energy, and the very fabric of space seemed to tremble under the force of this cataclysmic magic.

His stance shifted; he held his sword with unwavering confidence as he prepared to unleash his technique.

The air around him seemed to ripple with anticipation, the blade humming with latent power.

As he initiated the maneuver, Alexander's movement was a seamless blend of precision and fluidity.

His body, an extension of the blade, descended with controlled grace. The sword traced a radiant arc through the air, leaving behind a shimmering trail that mirrored the glow of the moon on a clear night.

[The Lunar Halo] technique was not just a mere swing; it like all other techniques of [Moon Light Sword Style] was a symphony of motion.

As the blade descended, it left a trail of ethereal light, an illusionary crescent that seemed to linger for a heartbeat longer than reality permitted.

The air itself seemed to yield to the might of his stroke, parting like a curtain before the dawn.

As the sword completed its descent, there was a palpable pause, a suspended moment where time itself held its breath.

Then, with a resounding impact, the blade met the magical onslaught. The clash echoed like a thunderous crescendo, the magical energies recoiling against the sheer force of his [Lunar Halo].

The magic, once formidable and unyielding, succumbed to the celestial arc of the blade.

The [Lunar Halo] cut through the arcane forces with what could only be described as divine precision, severing the magical threads that bound the [Spiritron] together.

It was as if the moon itself had intervened, casting its ethereal light to dispel the encroaching darkness.

The shockwave of this extraordinary feat reverberated through the battlefield, creating a momentary stillness in the midst of chaos.

But he didn't stop there In a singular, fluid motion, Alexander continued the momentum of his sword.

His target was clear—Jaune's arm, the conduit of the magical onslaught.

With unwavering focus, the blade met its mark, severing Jaune's right arm from her body.

The act was a testament to the mastery of swordplay, an art form that transcended the boundaries of magic and exhibited the sheer skill of this man.

(Alexander Bell Point Of View)

Amidst the smoky aftermath of our intense battle, I observed Jaune wincing as she clutched her injured arm. Despite the evident pain, a defiant smile played on her lips as she faced me.

"Okay, that hurts, but still, to think," Jaune remarked, her voice carrying a mix of pain and admiration. "All this time, someone as powerful as you chose to stay hidden. Impressive."

Still holding my sword, I looked at Jaune with a stoic expression, acknowledging her words without uttering a sound.

Jaune continued, "Your swordsmanship during our clash—it was pure, untainted by skills or magic. I've faced many, but you wield your blade with an elegance that rivals, if not surpasses, the [Hero of Beginnings] and that sleepy bastard."

Her gaze shifted to the peculiar black blade in my hand. "But that black blade of yours—it's not a byproduct of [Material Creation] or [Creation Magic]. Rather, it's not a skill or a magic.... You somehow manipulated the iron sand with electromagnetism. I wonder just what kind of power is that?"

My eyes remained fixed on the aftermath of our clash, a contemplative look on my face.

It's a good thing that, aside from a few scattered villagers like Rulid, most of the population of El Dorado lives in the capital under the protection of that Demon Lord.

Without directly answering Jaune's inquiry, I sighed. "I forgot. This isn't the {Tower of Babel}. Dealing with you here is more troublesome than I anticipated."

Jaune's frustration bubbled to the surface. "Troublesome? What do you mean?"

Finally, I turned to Jaune, my eyes meeting hers. "If I used anything other than this blade and my swordsmanship, this entire country would be in ruins by now. We both have already done more than enough damage to this country.

We both know that you can't beat me, especially in that broken artificial body you're inhabiting. So, how about we make a deal? I'll take on your greatest attack. If I survive, consider it my victory. In return, you and your servant must leave El Dorado and never return. So, what do you say?"

Jaune, fueled by a mix of rage and determination, hesitated for a moment. Her arm slowly began to heal as she considered the proposal. Finally, she nodded, her eyes burning with intensity.

"Fine," Jaune declared. "But know this, Alexander, you'll regret giving me this chance."

As Jaune started preparing her magical spell, the air around them crackled with energy, and the tension between the two formidable beings reached its peak.

The stage was set for a climactic exchange that would decide the fate of El Dorado and the consequences of their intertwined destinies.

All the while, a certain Demon Lord was watching and waiting for the perfect chance to strike.

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Author's Note: Hi, everyone. This is actually my first time writing a fight scene. Please share your honest opinions so that I can improve. Also, keep in mind that English is not my first language.