Chapter 34: War Part 25 - A true monster
The air hung heavy and lifeless as Lucy rose from his seated position on the blood-slick obsidian ground. The acrid stench of scorched flesh and burning magic clung to his nose. Behind him, the savage orchestra of war raged on—shouts of fury, the clash of steel, and the tremor of raw elemental forces filled the battlefield like an unholy symphony.
And in front of him stood Vorn Cain—the strongest elf in existence, and the strongest warrior among all the armies of the gods.
No longer the calm older man who had once shared idle words beneath the open sky, Vorn now stood in a poised battle stance, his presence radiating focused lethality. His left arm extended forward, right arm drawn back, fist clenched with a stillness that spoke of decades of mastery. His legs mirrored his arms—one foot forward, the other bracing behind, squatted low and ready. He held no weapon, and he needed none. The aura rolling off him was suffocating, ancient, and absolute.
Lucy swallowed hard, the dryness in his mouth stinging his throat like grit. He raised his sword with his right hand, leveling it beside his face, while his left arm crossed defensively before him. His feet shifted—left foot forward, right bracing behind.
'He wants me to prove I'm worthy of slaying the gods...? I might be scared, and he's far stronger than me, but I won't back down. I have a new goal now, and no one, not even Vorn Cain, will keep me from it.'
Lucy braced himself to strike, but every nerve in his body screamed against it. His instincts warned of pain, of ruin, of hopelessness.
Then, Vorn's sharp gaze softened slightly, releasing just enough pressure from the air around them to allow Lucy to breathe.
"I will give you the first strike," the elf said calmly, voice like calm wind brushing over embers. "And you have my word—I will not strike back."
'He's not even going to defend himself?'
Lucy hesitated. He considered pouring all of his divine mana into a single fire cylinder. With his vast reserves, the blast would be enormous, unpredictable even to himself. But no too risky. He'd be left exposed if it failed, and raw power without precision was reckless. He needed control, not chaos.
Without another word, Lucy surged forward, his figure becoming a blur to anyone not on the level of a general.