They skidded back, boots grinding against fractured earth, dust lifting in thin spirals around their feet. Damien's grin remained intact entirely unshaken and almost entertained while Oliver stood still, his gaze narrowed, not entirely on Damien but somewhere deeper, as if recalculating everything he had just felt.
Then, slowly, Oliver's lips began to stretch.
The expression formed gradually, unfamiliar at first, before settling into something sharp and something deliberate. It mirrored Damien's grin almost perfectly, not as imitation, but as recognition.
Damien noticed.
He said nothing.
They began walking toward each other again, measured steps, shoulders loose, no wasted motion. The air between them tightened, pressure building without a single word exchanged. Then, in perfect unison, their lead feet struck the ground and they vanished.
The ground cracked under the force of their acceleration, and in less than a second they were back within range.
Damien's fist drove forward first, aimed cleanly at Oliver's gut. It landed solidly.
Oliver didn't fold.
His counter came instantly, a punch snapping into Damien's jaw with equal force. The impact echoed but Damien didn't move. Not even slightly.
He answered.
SLAM.
Oliver returned it.
SLAM.
Then the restraint broke.
Both of them abandoned any semblance of defense, unleashing barrages of fists into each other's bodies with no blocks, no evasions, just direct exchange. Each impact detonated through the air, shockwaves stacking violently, carving deeper and deeper into the ground beneath them. The earth cratered with every strike, fractures spreading outward in jagged patterns.
They held their ground.
They refused to yield.
They simply tried to overpower each other.
A body suddenly tore through the edge of their battlefield.
Jiwon.
He flew past them and crashed into a building, the wall caving inward on impact. Debris scattered but before it could settle, Polaris appeared in front of him, hovering with unnatural stillness. His palm lifted, facing Jiwon.
A marking ignited across it.
From that mark, a ghostly tiger erupted. It was massive and translucent with its jaws wide as it lunged. Jiwon reacted instantly, both hands snapping up to catch its bite, fingers pressing against spectral fangs as the force drove him further into the broken wall. His muscles strained, veins rising along his arms as he held it open.
Then—
A dragon surged upward from beneath him.
It collided with his body and carried him into the air, its form coiling as it forced him upward. Polaris raised both hands, then brought them down sharply.
From the clouds above, another dragon descended.
It slammed into Jiwon's back while the first pressed upward from below, trapping him between them. The pressure compressed inward violently, space collapsing between their forms.
A sharp crack sounded.
One of Jiwon's ribs gave.
His face tightened but he didn't break. His hands clasped together and came down in a brutal hammer strike onto the dragon above him. The spectral form collapsed instantly into mist, the pressure from above vanishing.
The dragon beneath seized the moment and drove him downward.
Fast.
The ground rushed up—
Impact.
The earth collapsed into a crater as Jiwon was driven into it. The dragon dissolved on contact, leaving only dust and fractured terrain behind. For a brief moment, everything stilled.
Polaris drifted down, stopping at the edge of the crater, looking in.
A shape moved through the dust.
Jiwon burst out of it.
His fist drove straight into Polaris's gut. The ghost folded, his form destabilizing as Jiwon grabbed his head and yanked it downward into a rising knee.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Each strike forced a reaction out of something that shouldn't have reacted at all.
Across the battlefield, Renji continued advancing through Leonardo's skeletal horde.
A skeleton wielding a scythe closed in, the blade sweeping toward him. Renji leaned back just enough to avoid the cut, but the edge clipped his shirt, tearing fabric away.
His eyes flashed.
Above him, the sky shifted.
Clouds folded inward unnaturally, thunder cracking as white lightning mirroring his eyes tore downward, striking the skeleton and erasing it instantly.
Renji didn't slow.
He surged forward, lightning crashing down in sequence across the battlefield, obliterating skeletons as he passed them. The distance between him and Leonardo shrank rapidly.
Leonardo raised a hand.
A black scythe formed.
He swung.
Renji jumped.
Mid-air, his leg rose and then came down in a vertical arc, slamming into Leonardo's skull.
Crack.
The sound was subtle but significant.
Renji landed, already shifting forward again, posture tightening as he prepared to continue. Leonardo steadied himself, the fracture visible, his grip tightening around the scythe.
Elsewhere, Soren and Mary remained locked in their exchange.
Mary appeared in front of him.
Soren's elbow drove into her jaw instantly, snapping her head aside and sending her stumbling back.
"How?" she asked, eyes wide.
Soren didn't answer. He stepped forward again, calm, measured. His fist shot out as she retreated. He pivoted immediately, his heel slamming into her side. She braced instinctively, arms tightening to protect her ribs—
It didn't matter.
Something cracked.
The force sent her backward.
Soren lowered his leg, rolling his shoulders before stepping in again much more faster now. His fist drove into her gut. Another followed into her jaw. Then her nose. Then her midsection again.
A sequence.
Repeated.
Precise.
Unrelenting.
Her body struggled to keep pace.
For a moment brief, but clear his mind flickered back.
The park.
Training.
Damien and Renji moving without effort, their speed overwhelming.
Jiwon sitting by the tree, breathing heavily, eyes still tracking every motion.
"How the hell are we meant to compete with that?" Jiwon had asked.
Soren had watched silently before responding, "Don't they look… slowish?"
Jiwon had paused then nodded.
Soren's gaze had sharpened. "If we reach their level… are we actually reaching their level? Or are we going further because of how we perceive time?"
Jiwon had rubbed his chin, still watching the exchange. "Our ability adapts to everything in a fight, right?"
"Yes."
"But what are we adapting toward?" Jiwon pressed. "Are we adapting just to reach their speed… or to make sure they can't keep up with us?"
Soren's eyes had widened slightly.
Jiwon continued, the idea forming as he spoke, "If we fight someone stronger… do we adapt to match them… or to surpass them?"
A pause.
Then Soren had spoken.
"Let's test it."
They had both stood.
And charged.
Back to the present—
Mary staggered backward, her breathing uneven.
Soren walked toward her slowly, rolling his wrists.
"You're slower than those two," he said.
Mary blinked. "What?"
Soren disappeared.
He reappeared directly in front of her. She reacted instantly, dissolving into mist but he had already moved again, intercepting her reformation point. His fist drove into her midsection the moment she solidified.
Her breath vanished.
Her body froze then jolted as air forced its way back in.
"You sadistic bastard," she muttered, stepping back. "Stop toying with me. Just kill me."
Soren paused, considering.
Then exhaled softly, almost amused.
"Where's the value in that?" he said. "Death is an easy escape."
He stepped closer.
"Pain… lasts."
A polite smile formed on his lips.
Nothing about it matched what he was saying.
Back on the fractured battlefield, Damien and Oliver remained locked in their brutal exchange, fists colliding over and over with concussive force. Each impact sent ripples through the air, their bodies absorbing damage without retreat, their footing rooted in defiance.
Then Oliver shifted.
For the first time, he broke the rhythm.
He slipped past a strike, pivoted cleanly, and stepped back, creating space between them. The sudden pause felt unnatural, like the silence before something catastrophic.
"I'm stretching this out too much," Oliver muttered.
He raised two fingers, crossing them briefly before uncrossing with deliberate precision.
"Sorrowful Flames."
The sky responded instantly.
From above, dark flames began to fall not in chaotic bursts, but in slow, descending streaks, like burning tears pouring from the clouds. They struck rooftops, trees, the already-damaged ground and everything they touched ignited. Fire spread rapidly, turning the battlefield into a collapsing inferno.
The others were forced to adjust immediately, dodging falling flames while maintaining their fights. The environment itself had become hostile.
Damien stood still for a moment.
Then he began walking forward.
Slow. Measured.
His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing through the crimson glow as the air around him began to distort. The temperature rose sharply, heat pressing outward from his body in waves.
"Do you think hell can exist on earth?" Damien asked.
Oliver raised an eyebrow, watching him closely.
"Isn't the answer obvious?"
The heat intensified.
The ground beneath Damien began to react cracks forming, surfaces softening. Metal fixtures warped. Stone edges dulled as if they were beginning to liquefy.
Flames started to form around him, not falling like Oliver's, but rising and responding.
"How is that possible?" Damien murmured, almost to himself. "I haven't brought hell to earth before."
Then—
"First Pit: Hellish Ascension."
The words came out low, controlled.
On his back, a mark began to form only a quarter visible, but enough. The moment it appeared, the temperature spiked violently. The air itself seemed to recoil.
Even the distant fighters felt it now.
Oliver didn't move.
He smiled.
"And what exactly is that supposed to do?"
Damien didn't answer.
Instead, he lifted a finger and pointed it toward the ground.
Instantly—
The temperature dropped.
A sharp, unnatural shift.
Then Damien flicked his finger upward.
The earth split open.
Cracks tore forward across the ground, racing toward Oliver before erupting upward in violent bursts of flame. Columns of fire surged into the air, twisting and lashing out like something alive.
"Let hell ascend upon the earth," Damien muttered.
Oliver moved.
He leapt back, weaving between the rising flames, each eruption narrowly missing him. One grazed his shirt and it ignited instantly.
Without hesitation, Oliver tore it off and tossed it aside, his gaze locking back onto Damien. His eyes narrowed, something more focused now.
"You're acting like you control hell."
Damien's grin sharpened.
"And?"
Oliver exhaled slowly, raising a hand. His finger traced a small circle in the air before stopping pointing directly at Damien.
"The only way you control hell…" he said, voice dropping, "…is if you take my head."
Damien lowered his stance, muscles coiling as he crouched slightly, ready to launch.
"That won't be difficult."
For a brief moment, everything stilled.
Then Oliver spoke.
"Detrimental Annihilation."
The air tightened.
Is Damien going to survive?
Find out in the next chapter....