Third Elder!

Harry observed the battlefield, his sharp gaze calculating his every move. He knew he held the upper hand, Howard and the blond youth were on the verge of collapse, their bodies battered and their movements sluggish. The gap in strength was undeniable, and Harry relished the inevitability of their defeat. Escape? For them, it was little more than a fleeting dream.

Time crawled by, each second amplifying the despair in the eyes of his opponents. Howard and the young man exchanged glances, their expressions grim. They understood the severity of their predicament, if they didn't find a way out soon, both of their lives would end here.

"Stay here and accept your fate!" Harry growled, his voice rough with exertion and anticipation. His figure loomed larger as he advanced, intent on delivering the final blow.

But just as he prepared to finish the job, the faces of his opponents shifted. Their despair melted away, replaced by something else entirely, relief.

"Third Elder!" Howard exclaimed, his voice tinged with hope as his eyes locked on something behind Harry.

The blond youth's face lit up with joy, as though salvation had come at last. "We're saved!"

Harry froze, suspicion flashing across his face. He narrowed his eyes. "What Third Elder?" he scoffed, his tone dismissive. "You really think I'd fall for such a cheap trick?"

Unconvinced, he stepped forward, his fist poised to strike, but then it happened. A cold, visceral dread washed over him, stopping him mid-step. His instincts screamed in alarm, every nerve in his body bracing for danger. Without hesitation, Harry sprang sideways, narrowly avoiding a devastating attack.

Bang!

The ground where he had stood moments earlier erupted, a jagged crack splintering outward like a spiderweb. Dust filled the air, and the force of the strike left the ground trembling. Harry whirled around, his senses on high alert, and spotted the source of the attack.

An old man now stood at the edge of the courtyard. He was frail-looking, his hunched frame wrapped in a loose black robe. Wisps of white hair framed his sunken face, and his cloudy eyes held an unsettling calm. He looked fragile enough to crumble with a strong gust of wind, yet Harry knew better. The air around the elder was thick with an oppressive aura, one that made Harry's muscles tense involuntarily.

It was the old man who had struck.

Harry frowned, a flicker of unease crossing his face. This was no ordinary opponent. Unlike Howard and the blond youth, the elder radiated a profound, dangerous energy. Every instinct told him this was a fight he couldn't take lightly.

"Master," Harry muttered under his breath, his voice low but edged with tension.

For Howard and the blond youth, however, the elder's arrival was nothing short of a miracle. Their battered faces broke into wide grins as they scrambled toward him, their earlier fear replaced with triumphant relief.

"Elder!" Howard exclaimed, bowing slightly despite his injuries. "This is the imposter! The one who's been tarnishing the Black Council's name. Please, take him down!"

The blond youth's tone was less respectful, his voice seething with rage. "This scum dared to humiliate us. Make him pay, Elder!"

The old man's gaze shifted briefly to his two subordinates, his expression unreadable. Their injuries were severe, but he betrayed no outward concern. Instead, he gave a slight nod, acknowledging their pleas, before turning his attention back to Harry.

"Young man," the elder said, his voice calm but heavy with authority, "who are you? With strength like yours, you're no ordinary fighter in Malian City."

Harry straightened, his composure returning as he answered with calculated ease. "I am, of course, a member of the Black Council."

The elder's brow furrowed slightly, skepticism flickering across his face. Harry continued, his tone hardening. "You dare to stand in my way? Do you want to provoke a war with the Black Council?"

The elder opened his mouth to respond, but Harry had no intention of waiting for an argument. His sharp eyes darted to the side, spotting George's unconscious body where it lay. In one swift motion, he dashed to the fighter, grabbed him by the collar, and hoisted him over his shoulder.

"I don't have time for theatrics," Harry muttered. Before anyone could react, he bolted, moving with a speed that left a faint blur in his wake. In mere moments, he vanished into the shadows of the courtyard, taking George with him.

"After him!" the blond youth shouted, fury blazing in his eyes as he made to follow.

"Stop." The elder's voice was firm, commanding instant obedience. He looked at the two men, his expression calm but resolute. "You're in no condition to chase him. If you go, you'll only worsen your injuries."

"But Elder—" Howard protested weakly.

The elder raised a hand, silencing him. "He's strong, but I've seen his kind before." He turned his gaze toward the direction Harry had fled, his cloudy eyes narrowing with determination. "Leave him to me."

Before either Howard or the blond youth could respond, the elder's frail figure blurred. One moment he was standing before them; the next, he was gone, his form disappearing into the night as he pursued Harry.

The courtyard fell silent once more, the only sound the soft rustling of the wind. Howard and the young man exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier relief tempered by the realization of what had just transpired.

"I've never seen the Elder move like that," the blond youth murmured, his voice tinged with awe.

"Let's hope it's enough," Howard replied grimly, clutching his injured side. "Because if it isn't, we're dealing with someone far more dangerous than we ever anticipated."

Howard and the young man stood in the eerie silence of the aftermath. Their bodies ached, and their pride was battered even worse than their wounds. Glancing at each other, they exchanged bitter smiles, unspoken resignation passing between them.

"There's no point chasing him now," Howard muttered, clutching his side where Harry's blows had left deep bruises. "In this condition, we'd be throwing ourselves into a grave."

The blond youth winced, nodding. "Agreed. We're no use to the Elder half-dead. Better to retreat, recover, and live to fight another day."

Their decision made, they began to limp back toward the city, leaving the battlefield behind. For now, the fight was out of their hands.

---

Harry moved swiftly through the darkened streets of Malian City, his pace unrelenting. George hung over his shoulder like a sack of grain, unconscious and limp, but his weight didn't slow Harry down in the slightest. His movements were precise, purposeful. He needed to disappear from the city before the Elder caught up or so he thought.

Before long, Harry reached the outskirts, where the barren landscape stretched into shadowy hills. The area was desolate, surrounded by craggy mountains and stunted trees. The air here was still, untouched by the city's chaos.

"This place has its charm," Harry muttered, surveying the bleak surroundings. The faint outline of the mountains against the starry sky gave the location a haunting beauty.

A voice interrupted his thoughts, sharp and sardonic. "I'm glad you like it," the old man said, stepping from the shadows as if he'd always been there. "It's the perfect place for your final resting place."

Harry spun, his expression calm but his senses on high alert. He had expected pursuit, but the old man's quiet arrival was unsettling. There were no sounds of footsteps, no telltale signs, just his sudden, imposing presence.

For a moment, the two stared at each other, the tension thick between them. Both men knew that several clashes earlier had been mere warm-ups, feints to test each other's strength. Neither had wanted to unleash their full power within the confines of Malian City; the collateral damage would have drawn far too much attention.

But here, in the isolation of the barren mountains, there were no such limitations.

Harry chuckled lightly, breaking the silence. "I suppose this place will do for your burial, old man."

The Elder's smile widened slightly, his gaze sharpening. "You're confident. That's admirable in the young. Foolhardy, but admirable. Do you even understand the gap between us?"

Harry's tone was measured, but with a biting edge. "Perhaps it's the elderly who fail to see the gap, mistaking experience for superiority. Sometimes, your brains just stop working."

The Elder chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "Bold words. I'll make sure you have plenty of time to regret them."

Harry tossed George's unconscious body onto the ground with an unceremonious thud. Straightening, he rolled his shoulders, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "I've heard the Black Council has quite the reputation for torture. I've always wondered if it lives up to the stories."

"You won't have to wonder long," the Elder replied coldly. "Once I've broken you."

The tension snapped. Both men lunged forward at the same moment, their movements impossibly fast. A shockwave rippled through the air as their fists collided, releasing a burst of energy that echoed across the barren landscape.

This was no longer a calculated exchange of feints and probes; it was a full-scale battle. Life energy radiated from both combatants, a blinding force that seemed to tear at the very ground beneath them. The earth cracked and splintered, tremors rippling outward as their strikes connected.

Harry moved with predatory precision, his fists and feet striking with the force of a battering ram. Each blow was aimed to maim, to incapacitate. But the Elder was no less formidable. His wiry frame belied his strength, and his movements were fluid, almost graceful. Every counterstrike he delivered carried the weight of decades of honed skill.

The air between them sizzled with energy. The surrounding rocks and trees trembled, some splintering outright under the sheer force of their battle. Dust rose in thick clouds, obscuring their forms as they exchanged blow after devastating blow.

Harry's fists moved like pistons, but the Elder's strikes were surgical. Where Harry's strength was raw and overwhelming, the Elder's attacks were calculated, exploiting every brief opening with ruthless precision.

Their battle reached a fever pitch. Each strike carried enough force to level a small building, yet neither man relented. The ground beneath them trembled violently, the barren landscape bearing the brunt of their unleashed power.

---

With a deafening 'boom', the two fighters broke apart, their forms blurring as they leapt back to reassess. The ground between them was a fractured mess of jagged rocks and craters, testament to the ferocity of their clash.

Harry smirked, his breathing steady despite the intensity of the fight. "Not bad, old man. You're tougher than I expected."

The Elder's expression remained calm, but his eyes glinted with dangerous intent. "You've got potential, boy. But potential won't save you from me."

Harry's smirk widened, his fists tightening as he prepared to charge again. "Then let's see if your age and wisdom can keep up."

Without warning, the two launched at each other again, their forms blurring as the battle resumed with renewed ferocity.