Newfear

Atris spun around in desperation, raising her own sword at the last second... had she been a heartbeat slower, she would have lost her head.

The clash was brutal, sparks bursting into the air. The force of the blow pushed her back a step.

She locked eyes with her attacker... Sir 'Nithor Rakalion.'

A towering man with a short beard and streaked black hair, clad in dark green armor, belts lined with daggers and small swords. His piercing green eyes gleamed with merciless cruelty.

Nithor smiled slowly as he pressed his sword against hers, pushing her back.

Nithor: "Oh... Marchioness Starkov herself? I didn't expect to see you among the corpses."

His sword shot forward like a serpent... swift and sharp. in a moment, She evaded the strike, spun her body, and delivered a quick, lateral slash.

But he leaped backward, and with a swift motion, pulled a dagger from his belt and hurled it at her.

Atris barely dodged it, but the blade grazed her shoulder, making her grit her teeth.

He wasn't an ordinary opponent... He was a dirty fighter, one who relied on tricks and unexpected tactics.

Then, as she refocused on him, another sword was already lunging toward her. This time, the clash was more intense... Nithor pressed down on her, as if his strength had suddenly doubled.

Nithor: "You know..."

he said coolly, as he brought his face closer to hers.

Nithor: "You're better at fighting than I expected... but in the end..."

A sudden stab. Atris felt it before she saw it. Something cold pierced her side... The pain erupted like lightning.

Her eyes widened. She looked down. A small dagger was embedded in her waist.

Nithor was smiling as he pushed it in deeper until the hilt touched her body. He whispered softly.

Nithor: "You're too slow."

The air froze around her. The pain paralyzed her body. Her knees began to tremble.

Variss: "Lady Atris!!"

He said it loudly as he ran to her. But he was too late...

Atris couldn't hold on any longer. Her legs failed her, and her body began to fall.

And as she fell, she saw Variss's face distorted with shock, fury, and horror.

But she didn't hear his voice after that.

Everything became a blur.

Elsewhere, the battle was raging, as if a war had broken out inside Aqua's own mind.

At that moment, everything blended together... sounds, bodies, blood, wounds. His mind boiled with rage and madness, and his heart pounded with furious intensity. His gaze was heavy, filled with hatred, and his eyes glowed with an unparalleled ferocity.

Amidst the chaos, Count Diablon Volmar approached him, wearing a sinister, confident smile. But Aqua wasn't afraid. His icy eyes, always carrying a ruthless stare, now burned with pure malice.

Diablon moved swiftly.

He raised his sword with elegance and struck. Aqua didn't hesitate... he twisted his body with full force to dodge the attack, then lunged at him as if the entire earth was beneath his feet.

The clash was powerful, as if light and darkness had collided.

Aqua had gone mad.

The fight became something beyond an ordinary battle... deep, rapid strikes, clashing swords, wounds bleeding profusely. Diablon was fast and strong, his expression never losing its indifferent smirk. Every time he raised his sword, his strikes fell like thunder, and every time he struck Aqua, Aqua countered with blows that ignited pain in his body.

But Aqua, in his fury, began to surpass his limits. His attacks were wild, incredibly fast, as if his mind had stopped thinking, leaving only his emotions to rage within him. His strikes were deep and precise, forcing even Count Diablon into retreat.

Despite his resilience, Aqua was stronger, fiercer.

And the end was inevitable.

At a decisive moment, when Diablon thought he had stopped Aqua, Aqua lunged at him at blinding speed, wielding his sword in one hand and plunging it into Diablon's body. But he didn't stop there... he severed his head in a single, swift motion.

The severed head, blood spilling from it, fell to the ground slowly, and Aqua stood firm, gripping Count Volmar's head by the hair, raising it in the air as a sign of victory.

Then, in a surge of rage, he lifted his head toward the hill where the Malacard was watching.

Aqua: "What are you waiting for!!?"

he roared, his voice filled with fury, cutting through the air like a storm.

Aqua: "You cowards! Do you bring an army to fight in your place? Where are you? Are you afraid to dirty your delicate hands?! Your disgraceful defeat will be recorded in history! All of you!!!"

His words flew from his mouth like bullets, weighing down the already charged battlefield. Aqua was howling at them, but inside, this cry was one of hatred and reckless determination.

In a moment thick with tension and anticipation, Lord Kray Malacard stood atop the hill, watching the scene with growing agitation. Every word Aqua shouted was like a dagger plunging into his chest. The insults filled the air, staining his honor in front of everyone... even before his father, Duke Malacard, who watched in silence.

Then, in a moment where patience could no longer hold, Kray clenched his horse's reins tightly, his hands trembling with rage, his eyes burning with malice. He refused to show weakness before such insults, especially before this beast who was filling the battlefield with his furious cries.

Rossipov: "Stop!"

it was Duke Malacard's shout, an attempt to restrain him, but Kray had already charged. He struck his horse's reins with full force, galloping forward at an astonishing speed toward Aqua, everything around him fading as if he were in his own world. The sound of pounding hooves echoed in his ears, his heart beating wildly with every step as he closed in on Aqua.

The scene was majestic. Only dust rising from the hooves, distant screams, and Kray speeding toward his target. Aqua, standing at the brink of life and death, turned to see Lord Kray rushing at him, as if the fate of the battle now rested in their hands.

Lord Kray Malacard leaped from his horse, gasping in that moment filled with fury. The ground beneath him trembled, as if breathing under his rapid steps. His eyes blazed with malice, and his mind repeated Aqua's insults over and over, making every step toward his target even more determined.

His sword was drawn before him, glinting in the light, its gleam like a bolt of lightning tracing the path to the end. Without hesitation, he strode toward Aqua, while the sounds of battle raged around him like a storm.

The first knight in his path lunged with full force, raising his spear high to drive it through Lord Kray's heart, but Kray was faster. With a swift maneuver, he deflected the spear with his sword, then leaped into the air, twisting to evade the attack before slicing off the knight's head in a single stroke. Blood burst into the air like red rain, and the metallic scent of blood filled the battlefield, staining his luxurious green armor.

The second knight attacked without delay, but Kray moved with seamless fluidity. His movements were as swift as bullets, evading each incoming strike while keeping his focus on his opponent. His hands moved rapidly, his sword circling his body before piercing through the second knight's chest, emerging from his back. The knight collapsed like a lifeless hunk of flesh, his blood soaking into the ground beneath Kray 's feet, seeping between his armored toes.

The third appeared... stronger, clad in heavy armor and wielding a massive spear, tearing through the air toward Kray. But Kray did not retreat. As if his sword was the instrument of fate, he surged forward with incredible speed, striking upward at his opponent's head, splitting the body in two without hesitation. The corpse fell to the ground, leaving behind a trail of blood splattered across the battlefield.

As he moved forward, more attacks came from the knights trying to block his path.

Kray moved between attacking and dodging, his sword slicing through the air. He swung like an arrow, cutting down enemies from the front and back, leaving them no chance to retaliate. The knights' bodies scattered, blood stained his armor, and its scent filled the air around him.

Another knight leaped from behind, trying to strike him unnoticed. But Lord Kray sensed him, turned with terrifying speed, and stabbed him brutally in the abdomen. The knight's spear slipped from his lifeless hands, hitting the ground with an unnatural sound beneath the weight of death.

Every movement was driven by one emotion: vengeance. The corpses piled up on the ground, blood washed the earth beneath his feet, and every step he took was another judgment in the battle. The enemies who tried to obstruct his path became fleeting shadows, scattering and vanishing among the corpses.

He knew that Aqua was his ultimate target.

And as he finally approached his opponent, who stood in the middle of the battlefield, it felt as if the very earth was watching that fateful moment.

The battle between Aqua Nightover and Lord Kray Malakard was more than just a physical clash; it was a confrontation between two opposing forces, where deep desires for revenge collided with cold, unyielding willpower. The ground beneath them cracked under the intensity of their fight, a war of unseen forces surrounded by the flashing lights of clashing swords and the rain of blood that fell like a storm of death.

Aqua stood in the center, sword raised, his fierce gaze locked onto Lord Kray. His heart pounded wildly in his chest. His hands tensed around the sword's hilt, ready to strike at any moment. Sparks flickered in his eyes... eyes that glowed like melting ice in the heat of the moment. His movements were swift as lightning, dodging every attack with seamless precision, his muscles moving in perfect harmony between defense and offense, a deadly rhythm of war.

Lord Kray stood just a step away, gripping his sword tightly, his face frozen, his features as rigid as stone. His anchor was his unwavering gaze on Aqua, as if seeing in him a reflection of his own tormented past... an image of death that he could not escape. In a single moment, he lunged forward at full force, his sword cutting through the air at an unimaginable speed.

Aqua stepped forward, avoiding the strike, focusing on the blade hurtling toward him like a whirlwind. He retreated with agile steps, twisting his body to the side to evade the attack before leaping high into the air, narrowly escaping the sword that slashed past his body.

Lord Kray gave him no time to recover. Immediately after his strike, another powerful blow followed. Aqua relied on his speed and supernatural reflexes, extending both hands to clash swords with Kray. The collision echoed like thunder, sparks flying from the entangled blades. Aqua struggled to break free, his body moving with fluidity and precision. In a split second, he shifted swiftly to dodge Kray's sword, which sought to pierce his heart.

Their swords clashed, sparks flying as they exchanged blows and parries above the blood-soaked ground. Aqua's voice rang out, loud and defiant, as he faced Kray.

Aqua: "Enjoy your life, Lord Kray!... As long as the ice has yet to break!!"

Kray tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his expression steely, before both warriors surged forward, their swords once again locking in a violent, unyielding clash.

The sound of swords clashing echoed through the air, while the footsteps of armored warriors resonated on the harsh ground. Lord Cray Malakard, his face twisted with intense anger, stared at Aqua Nightfury with eyes filled with hatred.

As Aqua was about to launch a counterattack, he was stopped by the sharp voice of Kray that rang out across the battlefield, rising high, sweeping through the air with deep malice.

Kray, in furious rage: "Ice doesn't last forever, Aqua! I'll melt it, and I'll burn your kingdom until nothing is left but ash!!"

Kray's words were like fire, consuming everything in its path, a reflection of the pent-up fury that had finally erupted. His voice was filled with deep threat, as if the very ground would crack beneath the weight of his words. The sound dominated the battlefield, cutting through the heavy air and filling it with a deadly charge.

Every word that left Kray's mouth was like an unavoidable harsh sentence, as if the entire battlefield was echoing his threat, brimming with the promise of an impending end.

In a fleeting moment, Cray charged with all his might, delivering a quick and powerful slash toward Aqua's right side. The movement of the sword was like a storm... sharp, deadly. But Aqua, with the skill of an experienced fighter, moved with impossible speed, narrowly dodging the massive swing. Yet, the sword was faster than time itself. It grazed Aqua's right cheek in the blink of an eye, leaving a shallow wound on his skin.

Aqua felt a sting of pain, but he didn't let it distract him. His blood scattered, but it didn't stop him. Instead, he doubled his speed and retaliated with a counterattack, charging toward Cray with all his strength. His sword collided with the other's in a shocking moment, and it felt as though the very earth trembled from the force of the impact.

Suddenly, Aqua spun violently, striking Kray's right side. His sword pierced through the heavy armor, but Kray absorbed the blow with expertise. Instead of retreating, Kray intensified his attacks. As their swords clashed again, Aqua reached out, grabbing Kray's blade to pull him closer, attempting to throw him off balance before launching a fatal strike.

But Kray was fast enough to withdrew at the last moment. Aqua tried to press him, but Lord Kray had other plans. With a sudden move, he kicked Aqua's leg, sending him flying through the air.

Aqua hit the ground but landed in a combat stance, ready to attack instantly. He rushed toward Kray like a missile, his eyes burning with fury, his sword cutting through the air parallel to the ground, tearing through the sky itself. The clash was ferocious; their swords struck against each other, the sounds of impact roaring like thunder.

For a moment, the entire battle seemed frozen, as if time had stopped to witness this decisive moment. The ground trembled beneath the warriors, the air thick with pain and rage. The battlefield revealed another face... a face of pure madness, drenched in blood and strewn with remnants of the fallen, like unhealed wounds across the land. Aqua was surrounded by deep darkness, his eyes glowing with the cold fire of shattered ice. His body trembled with the overwhelming fury coursing through his veins, his mind drowning in echoes of agony and screams.

Lord Kray Malakard stood opposite him, his chiseled face cloaked in deadly silence, but his eyes blazed with the flames of vengeance. His sword, gleaming like a star in the darkness, swung down with devastating force, aiming to rip out Aqua's heart. And in that moment, Aqua watched everything unfold as if time itself had frozen... he took a deep breath, as if preparing for a journey within himself. Then, in the blink of an eye, he moved with an indescribable motion, shifting like a raging wind, narrowly avoiding Kray's sword as it slashed past his head. He spun in midair like a phantom, leaping across the battlefield, his feet racing over the earth as if he were flying.

Then, suddenly, he raised his sword high. His body, caught in a moment of madness, lunged like a lightning strike. In an instant, his sword pierced through Kray's body. The thrust was sharp... like a bird diving at full speed, driving its beak into its prey's heart. Blood sprayed into the air like red rain, covering the ground and sky. The heavy droplets fell like lead, tearing through the air with violent force.

In that moment, Aqua let out a chilling laugh.... a laugh filled with insanity and unrelenting joy. It echoed through every corner of the battlefield, rising from the depths of memory as if calling for destruction. Its sound resonated in Kray's fading consciousness as he stared at Aqua with vacant eyes, his lips attempting to form words, but no voice emerged.

Aqua lifted his head, his face ablaze with unquenchable fire, forced to scream with all his might. His voice roared across the battlefield, calling out to House Malakard from afar, condemning them all. As if this battle had surpassed mere enemies.... it was no longer just about Kray Malakard; it had become a cry against tyrants, against the cowards who moved armies with the blood of others.

The silence that followed was heavy, like a massive stone crushing the heart. Corpses lay scattered like dead trees, blood staining everything. Even the air itself was saturated with the scent of death. The scene was horrifying in its details... madness had reached its peak, leaving only Aqua standing, his sword dripping with blood, his heart brimming with vengeance. He gazed at the horizon, as if he had finally achieved what he sought.

But with his scream, the madness had transformed into something else... something indescribable, something only those who witnessed it could understand. It was a victory that burdened the soul, but also a death that invaded the heart, as if Aqua had slain himself while killing Kray.

In that moment, Aqua stood motionless, as if time itself had stopped around him. The battlefield was a storm of chaos, yet Aqua remained eerily still, his eyes fixed on what lay ahead without fear. A smirk formed on his lips... bitter, mocking everything around him. It was a smile of defiance, as if the surrounding chaos was nothing more than passing mist.

And then, from the distance, Duke Rossipov Malakard surged toward him like an overwhelming tide, his gleaming sword raised high like a thunderbolt, slicing through the wind with raw force. His voice roared through the battlefield.... harsh, brimming with fury and vengeance, shaking the very earth beneath him. His sword carried an immense wrath, yet Aqua did not move. His eyes watched the incoming blade, racing toward him with terrifying speed. That sword in Malakard's hands was not just a weapon... it was fate itself.

Aqua closed his eyes for a moment, letting the world dissolve around him. He drowned in a profound silence as everything faded into another dimension. He felt every heartbeat, every breath, as if time itself had stretched into an eternal moment where nothing mattered but the approaching fate.

Then, just as the sword reached its mark, something appeared from his left.

A shadow emerged...

A black horse suddenly emerged from the thick dust clouds, moving with terrifying speed as if born from the very storms themselves. Its hooves struck the ground violently, carving a path through time and space, advancing toward Duke Malakard's horse, which was racing at full speed, unable to stop. In that moment, the movements intertwined in a horrifying way, as if time itself had fractured. Suddenly, the black horse surged forward with crushing force, colliding with the duke's horse with such immense violence that the ground trembled under the impact.

Then, in an unbelievable instant, the movements accelerated, and the rider on the black horse threw his sword, driving it powerfully into the right side of the duke's waist, ripping through his armor and sinking deep into his flesh.

The sound of the impact was terrifying, echoing through every corner of time and space, enveloping the air in thick dust. Aqua, still in his place, watched the scene unfold, as both horses crashed to the ground with overwhelming force, tumbling together. The heavy sound returned to the place as if the earth itself had shaken under the blows of that power.

At that moment, when the earth was ablaze with screams and blood, Raymond Vanheim appeared.