Dust spiraled beneath the shattered stone as the trio were forced backward—three different corners of the battlefield, three different battles, yet each one feeling the same tightening noose.
The Shambhala walls loomed behind them, scorched from earlier exchanges. The howling winds carried fragments of cracked marble and sparks of clashing auras. And in front of each of them, their opponent—the generals—were finally fighting like generals.
Hiro's footwork was maddening—light, effortless, like someone dancing between raindrops.
Aryan blocked the first elbow strike, but the shockwave crawled up his forearm like fire. Hiro spun, heel cracking into Aryan's ribs before Aryan could fully recover.
"Too slow," Hiro murmured—not mocking, just stating.
Aryan exhaled sharply, pushing forward. His palm shot out; Hiro raised a simple guard. Aryan's knuckles slammed into Hiro's forearm but met something unyielding—like punching steel wrapped in skin.
Hiro twisted, hooking Aryan's wrist and yanking him forward, knee rising toward Aryan's sternum.
Aryan barely crossed his arms in time—
THUD!
The impact still blasted him into the ground, stone splitting on landing.
"...Damn it," Aryan growled, forcing himself up. "He wasn't this fast before."
A faint smile tugged Hiro's lips.
"I wasn't trying before."
Zade fought like a razor encased in silence—no wasted motion, no flaring aura, nothing but clean, lethal intent.
Abhi darted in first—a spinning back kick aimed for the jaw.
Zade slid one foot back, tilting his head by a hair's width. Abhi's heel skimmed past his cheek with a whisper.
Before Abhi could land, fingers like iron clamped his ankle.
Shit—!
Zade twisted sharply, sending Abhi spinning midair. The world blur-rushed. Abhi countered by pressing a hand to the ground mid-spin, flipping upright—
—but Zade was already there.
A straight punch.
No special ability.
Just speed.
Abhi crossed his arms barely—
CRACK!
Even blocking wasn't enough. The punch launched him through two broken pillars before he finally skidded to a stop, coughing.
"...He reads movements too well," Abhi muttered, wiping blood from his lip.
Zade stepped forward, expression blank.
"Predictable."
That word stung more than the hit.
Cairo attacked like a predator who already knew he'd win.
Ahan ducked under a hooked punch aimed at the temple, sliding backward as Cairo's knee surged toward his face next. Ahan pushed off the ground into a backflip, the knee grazing his chin.
He landed unsteadily.
"Shit—"
Cairo blurred in, hand slicing horizontally. Ahan raised his arm in defense—
It felt like getting hit with a sledgehammer.
He was thrown against a fragment of wall, dust collapsing around him.
"You analyze too much," Cairo said, rolling his shoulders. "Thinking won't save your bones."
Ahan clenched his teeth, body shaking. "Keep talking. At least that tells me you're not fully calm."
Cairo smiled, the first smile since the fight began.
"That… was anger. Not loss of composure."
All three generals suddenly stepped back—in perfect synchronicity.
The battlefield grew unnaturally quiet.
A pulse—black, deep, rhythmic—rolled out of their bodies. Shard energy. The real layer of their strength.
Hiro lifted his arm; dark red markings rippled across his skin.
Zade's shadow stretched unnaturally long behind him.
Cairo exhaled, and the ground cracked under his feet like ice.
Aryan, Abhi, and Ahan froze—not out of fear, but because their instincts screamed:
This is now beyond human combat.
Zade glanced between them, voice still monotone.
"Phase Two begins."
And all three generals moved—
—too fast.
Aryan threw up a guard—Hiro's fist blew through it, sending him skidding across jagged earth.
Abhi tried to dodge—Zade appeared behind him, a chop aimed for the neck. Abhi spun, barely deflecting it but still coughing from the force.
Ahan ducked under Cairo's sweep kick but still felt the air pressure rupture the stones beneath him.
They weren't losing anymore.
They were surviving.
Just barely.
Abhi gritted his teeth. "Guys—this isn't sustainable!"
Ahan blocked another strike that nearly broke his wrist. "We can't counterattack… not like this!"
Aryan was slammed into the ground again before he could answer.
The three generals stepped forward at once—
Hiro: "You have hit your limit."
Cairo: "Artifacts are your only rope."
Zade: "Use them… or fall here."
The trio regrouped, shoulder to shoulder, breathing hard.
Aryan's eyes narrowed. "We said we wouldn't use them unless—"
"WE'RE PAST THAT POINT!" Ahan snapped.
Abhi nodded, sweat dripping down. "If we wait any longer, we'll get split apart."
The generals tensed for another attack.
Ahan closed his eyes.
Abhi steadied his trembling hands.
Aryan exhaled like he was dropping the weight of the world from his chest.
"Alright," Aryan whispered.
"Together, then."
They raised their hands.
Their artifacts—dormant so far—began to glow faintly.
The ground trembled.
The air thickened.
The generals stopped moving, suddenly alert.
A blinding surge erupted—
From Ahan: a whirl of ancient script and light swirling around his arm.
From Abhi: silver-blue energy threading along invisible dual blades.
From Aryan: a deep, bass-like rumble of divine pressure.
The glow intensified—
BOOM!
A shockwave blasted outward as the three artifacts awakened together for the first time.
Dust spiraled into the sky. The ground cracked in wide squares. The generals' expressions finally shifted—not fear, just recognition.
Hiro smirked.
"So… you finally stop holding back."
The chapter ends here—
with the trio standing, weapons beginning to manifest, divine energy surrounding them—
and the battlefield preparing to evolve into something truly monstrous.