Chapter 91 — The Guardian of Shadows (Part 2)
The ancient, dust-choked chamber fell into a suffocating silence.
Neither man moved. The only sound cutting through the quiet was the rhythmic, heavy drip... drip... of dark monster blood falling from the tip of the mysterious guardian's obsidian scythe.
Tet Pikan tightened his grip around his dual axes, the handles groaning under his strength as white-hot flames began to lick up the curved steel edges. Opposite him, the hooded stranger stood in a posture of complete, infuriating relaxation. He wasn't guarding his chest; he wasn't shifting his weight.
He was simply waiting.
Naëlle took a desperate step forward, her hands half-raised. "Wait! Both of you, stop!"
Her voice bounced uselessly off the damp stone walls. Neither man so much as blinked.
Tet's eyes remained locked onto the glowing white gaze beneath the dark hood. "You've got three seconds."
The guardian tilted his head, the movement slow and mocking. "For what?"
"To tell me who you are, and what you're doing in this dungeon."
The stranger chuckled—a low, quiet sound that echoed with dry amusement. "And if I don't?"
Tet lowered his center of gravity, the muscles in his thighs tensing like coiled springs. "...Then I'll beat the answer out of you."
The guardian let out a soft, disappointed sigh, shaking his head.
"...Humans. Always choosing violence."
The Clash of Fire and Shadow
BOOM!
The stone floor shattered into a spiderweb of cracks as Tet exploded forward. A torrent of orange fire erupted from his heels, propelling him across the gap in a fraction of a second.
"Flame Rush!"
His entire body became a blinding streak of kinetic heat, driving his right axe forward in a brutal, horizontal slash aimed directly for the stranger's neck.
"So fast!" Rolo gasped, shielding his eyes from the sudden glare.
But the guardian didn't flinch. He didn't even raise his scythe.
CLANG!
The screech of metal on metal rang out, followed by the hiss of instantly vaporized moisture. The roaring, flaming axe blade came to a dead halt mere inches from the stranger's neck.
Tet's breath hitched. His eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
His axe had been caught.
The guardian hadn't parried it with his weapon. He had reached out and clamped his bare, gauntleted hand directly around the burning steel blade. The flames roared against his palm, but the black armor didn't even scorch.
The stranger's glowing white eyes flickered. "...Too slow."
Instantly releasing the caught weapon to pivot on his heel, Tet whipped his left axe around in a devastating, flame-shrouded follow-up chop directed at the guardian's temple.
The stranger casually leaned back, his head clearing the heavy blade by a hair's breadth.
Before Tet could chamber his next strike, a black blur flashed in his lower periphery.
BOOM!
A heavy, armored boot connected squarely with Tet's sternum. The impact sounded like a thunderclap.
Tet was launched backward, tearing through the air. He flipped twice, driving his boots deep into the stone floor to arrest his momentum. He carved two deep, smoking trenches into the ancient masonry before finally coming to a halt twenty meters away.
Rolo's jaw hit the floor. "...He just kicked the Captain like he was a pebble."
Tet slowly straightened his posture, rubbing his chest. Underneath his armor, his ribs throbbed with a dull, heavy ache. Instead of fear, however, a manic grin spread across his face.
"Interesting," Tet muttered, his dual-elemental mana flaring. Brilliant, wild flames erupted along both of his arms, wrapping around his axes in whirling torrents. "So you're not just some parlor-trick shadow. You're strong."
The guardian casually swung his massive scythe back over his shoulder. "...You noticed."
"For the first time in years..." Tet's eyes blazed with a warrior's thrill. "...I'm actually excited."
The Dance of the Scythe
Tet vanished again.
The chamber erupted into a chaotic symphony of fire and steel. Tet became a storm, unleashing a relentless barrage of flaming slashes, hacks, and cross-cuts from every conceivable angle.
Left. Right. Above. Behind.
The air hissed as axe strikes rained down like meteors. Yet, the guardian moved like water. With the smallest, most effortless shifts of his weight, he slipped past every single blow. He didn't swing his scythe to block. He didn't counterattack. He simply walked through the fire storm as if strolling through a quiet garden.
The sheer speed of Tet's assault began to crack the walls of the chamber, sending stone debris scattering, but he couldn't graze even a thread of the stranger's cloak.
"He's playing with him..." Naëlle whispered, her voice trembling.
Kemi nodded slowly, her hands clenched into fists. "He isn't even trying."
"The Captain..." Rolo swallowed hard, his eyes straining to follow the blurs. "...can't even touch him."
"Stand still!!" Tet roared, his frustration finally boiling over.
The guardian laughed, a lighthearted sound amidst the roaring flames. "But then you'd hit me. And that's usually not how fighting works."
"You think you're funny?!" Tet growled, his mana spiking to its absolute limit. He threw his entire weight into a final, devastating downward double-chop.
"FLAME REND!"
The twin axes unleashed a massive, swirling pillar of concentrated fire, broad enough to swallow a house, screaming directly toward the stranger.
For the first time, the guardian moved his weapon.
The obsidian scythe cut through the air in a single, elegant arc. A crescent of pure, devouring darkness sliced through the center of the roaring column.
The flame didn't explode. It didn't scatter. The moment the black arc touched the fire, the entire spell simply vanished. Dissolved into nothingness.
Tet froze, his axes still extended from the strike, his mind entirely blank. "...What..."
Before he could pull back, the guardian appeared directly in front of him, the dark mist of his cloak brushing against Tet's face.
"So..." the stranger murmured, his white eyes glittering under the hood. "...are you done?"
Reflexively, Tet threw a desperate left hook with the butt of his axe handle.
The guardian caught his wrist in a vice-like grip, twisted it downward, and swept Tet's legs out from under him. As Tet lost his balance, the stranger fluidly spun behind him.
SHHH.
The cold, heavy curve of the obsidian scythe rested gently against the side of Tet's neck.
Silence fell like a hammer. Nobody dared to breathe.
Tet slowly looked down at the dark metal pressed against his throat. The heat of his own mana died out, leaving only the cold reality of defeat.
"...I lost."
The guardian smiled beneath his hood. "...Very."
He slowly began to raise the scythe, the blade leaving Tet's neck.
"Captain!" Rolo cried out.
"Uncle!" Kemi took a step forward, her hands igniting.
Uninvited Guests
Before another strike could be made, the heavy echo of footsteps and casual chatter drifted from the tunnel behind them. Three familiar voices broke the tension of the deathmatch.
"I'm telling you, that boss was uglier than Wilkens," Jean-Daniel's loud, boisterous laugh echoed into the room.
"Says the guy who almost got swallowed whole," Wilkens' deadpan voice replied.
"I did not almost get swallowed! I was merely utilizing a high-risk tactical retreat."
"You literally screamed, JD."
"I was motivating myself!"
"Guys," Peterson's calm voice cut through their bickering. His tone instantly shifted as he surveyed the ruined, ash-covered chamber. "...Looks like my clone found some trouble."
Jean-Daniel blinked, looking past Peterson's shoulder. "...Clone?"
Wilkens sighed, rubbing his temples. "I knew he'd find a way to entertain himself the second we lost sight of him."
Peterson smiled helplessly, walking fully into the chamber. "I leave him alone for five minutes..."
At the sound of his voice, the tension shattered. Naëlle's face lit up with immediate relief. "There you are!"
Kemi let out a long, shuddering breath.
Tet, still recovering his bearings, looked toward the newcomer with furrowed brows. "...Who...?"
The mysterious guardian turned his head toward Peterson. His posture instantly shifted from a terrifying predator to a loyal subordinate. "...Boss."
Peterson nodded once, a faint smile on his face. "...Good work."
The guardian lowered his scythe completely. Peterson raised a single hand, his fingers splaying slightly.
"Return."
Instantly, a thick shroud of dark mist enveloped the guardian. His armor, his scythe, and his towering form dissolved into a swirl of glowing black particles before vanishing entirely into the air.
Tet stared at the empty space, his voice barely a whisper. "...What? Where did he go?"
"I unsummoned him," Peterson explained, walking over casually.
"Summoned?" Tet's eyes widened.
"Yeah. My clone," Peterson nodded, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry if he gave you a hard time."
The Gap in Strength
Nobody spoke. Tet looked at the empty air where the terrifying warrior had just stood, then back to the relaxed, unarmored teenager standing in front of him.
A clone.
A mere copy had effortlessly dismantled his best techniques, read his every move, and held his life at the edge of a blade.
Something inside the veteran warrior's pride snapped. The humiliation and the sheer absurdity of the gap in power sparked a sudden, desperate flame.
"If that was only your clone..." Tet growled, his body erupting in a violent shroud of fire once more, "...then let's see what the original can do!"
He lunged.
"Uncle, no!" Kemi cried out in panic.
Peterson let out a heavy, tired sigh. "...Seriously?"
Tet's flaming fist shot forward, aiming straight for Peterson's face with enough force to shatter steel.
Peterson didn't dodge. He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't even activate a defensive barrier.
He simply took a single, fluid step forward, his hand moving like a strike of lightning.
GRAB.
Tet's eyes went wide. His punch died in mid-air.
Peterson's hand was wrapped firmly around Tet's throat. With a single, effortless motion, Peterson lifted the fully armored, heavy-set warrior completely off the ground.
The flames surrounding Tet's body flickered and died. His feet dangled helplessly inches above the stone floor.
Jean-Daniel let out a low whistle from the entrance. "...Man, that's gotta be embarrassing."
Wilkens nodded solemnly. "Extremely."
Tet struggled, trying to summon fire to his free hand, but the sheer, crushing physical grip on his throat seemed to cut off his connection to his mana.
Peterson looked directly into his eyes. His gaze was entirely calm—devoid of anger, pride, or malice. It was the look of someone stating an undeniable fact of nature.
"You couldn't beat my clone. What makes you think you can beat me?"
The words hit Tet harder than any physical blow.
He froze. His eyes slowly widened as the cold, hard realization finally settled into his chest.
This teenager wasn't just strong. He was a force of nature. The terrifying shadow guardian who had slaughtered a horde of hundreds in less than a minute wasn't the threat—he was just a shadow cast by the real monster.
Peterson slowly lowered Tet back down. The moment his boots touched the solid stone, Peterson released his grip, stepping back with a relaxed, friendly smile. He extended his hand.
"My name is Peterson. It's nice to meet you."
Tet stared at the open hand, then up at Peterson's face. He looked over at Kemi, who was letting out a relieved sigh, and then at Jean-Daniel and Wilkens, who were leaning casually against the ruins. None of them looked worried. They trusted this young man implicitly.
Slowly, Tet reached out and gripped Peterson's hand. It was a firm, solid handshake.
"...Tet Pikan."
Peterson's smile widened. "Nice to finally meet you, Captain."
Tet let out a long, defeated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "...You are utterly ridiculous."
Jean-Daniel burst into a loud, booming laugh. "Ha! You figured that out too? Welcome to the club, buddy!"
Wilkens pointed a finger at Peterson. "We've been trying to tell him that for years. He doesn't listen."
"I am literally standing right here," Peterson muttered, rolling his eyes.
Kemi let out a bright laugh, and Naëlle smiled quietly, watching the tension drain from the room. For the first time since they had entered the suffocating depths of the swamp, the entire group was finally assembled, whole and unharmed.
Peterson looked around the ruined chamber, then pointed his Veve Staff toward the dark tunnel leading upward.
"Alright," he said, slinging the staff over his shoulder. "Let's find our way out of this dump."
No one objected. Without a word, the group naturally fell into step behind him—including Tet Pikan.