mediators story

"You can't keep running forever!" Archeus roared, his fists barreling forward like a cannonball. His voice thundered, rattling the shattered walls of the throne room. This time, he didn't hold back, pouring every ounce of his strength into the strike.

Finally, his fist connected.

The collision sent shockwaves rippling through the room, cracking the floor beneath their feet. Dust and debris rained down as Archeus forced a grin. Got you.

But the sensation was wrong.

Lucien's palm, raised in defense, didn't feel like flesh or bone. It felt hollow, weightless, as if Archeus had punched the wind.

Before the thought could register, pain erupted in his ribs.

Lucien had moved, no, he had slipped through Archeus' attack entirely. Archeus' body lurched sideways as a brutal knee slammed into his side. The force launched him like a ragdoll, sending him crashing into the far wall. The stone cracked under the impact, jagged fragments scattering around him.

Before Archeus could recover, a shadow loomed.

Lucien's foot drove into Archeus' temple. The kick sent his head snapping back, his vision blurring as the room tilted around him.

Archeus growled, planting his hand on the ground to push himself up. His aura flared to life, a fiery crimson glow that surged like a living beast. It pulsated wildly, causing the air to distort and the ground to tremble.

Lucien stood amidst the chaos, unfazed. He adjusted his gloves, his expression unreadable but his body language relaxed.

Archeus lunged.

This time, his fists moved faster than before, a blur of destructive force that tore through the space between them. Each punch carried enough power to shatter stone, but Lucien danced through the barrage like a specter.

Archeus' strikes were relentless, shaking the room with their impact, but they hit nothing but air.

Lucien's body seemed to flicker, fading in and out of sight. His movements were erratic yet impossibly precise, like a predator toying with its prey.

The broken sword appeared in Lucien's hand, almost casually.

Archeus' eyes narrowed. He recognized the blade instantly, not by name, but by memory. It was the same weapon Lucien had wielded in the buggy during the fight against the monstrosity.

Lucien twirled the fractured blade in his hand, its jagged edges glinting ominously. Without a word, he surged forward.

Archeus barely had time to react. The sword slashed toward him, its speed unnatural. He ducked, the blade whistling past his ear, but Lucien was already repositioning.

A second strike came, then a third.

Each swing of the broken blade was chaotic, its movements unpredictable yet devastating. Archeus was forced onto the defensive, his arms crossed as he blocked and deflected the incoming blows.

Lucien's attacks didn't stop. He moved like a phantom, his strikes a blend of martial precision and erratic fury. Archeus could barely keep up.

Lucien's broken sword suddenly shifted trajectory mid-swing, catching Archeus off-guard. The blade's jagged edge grazed his arm, leaving a shallow but burning wound.

Archeus hissed in pain, retaliating with a wide haymaker. The punch tore through the air, but Lucien sidestepped it effortlessly, his expression unreadable.

Without missing a beat, Lucien drove his knee into Archeus' stomach. The impact forced the air from Archeus' lungs, his knees buckling as he staggered back.

The room trembled as Archeus slammed his fists into the ground, his aura exploding outward. The crimson energy surged like a tidal wave, creating a momentary reprieve as Lucien was forced to step back.

"Enough games," Archeus growled, wiping blood from his mouth. His aura flared brighter, the temperature in the room rising as cracks formed on the stone floor beneath him.

Lucien tilted his head, observing. For the first time, there was a flicker of something in his expression. Not worry—no, not even caution. It was amusement.

Archeus charged, his fists coated in energy so dense they left trails of molten heat in their wake. This time, he moved with more precision, more control. His strikes were no longer wild; they were calculated, aimed to corner Lucien.

Lucien responded in kind.

The broken sword slashed upward, colliding with Archeus' fist in a burst of sparks. The force of the impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, shattering what remained of the throne room's pillars.

Lucien pressed forward. His movements became more erratic, his attacks faster, sharper. He no longer danced around Archeus but met him head-on, exchanging blow after blow.

The broken blade clashed against Archeus' fists, each collision producing an ear-splitting crack.

Archeus roared, his fists smashing toward Lucien like hammers. Lucien deflected with the sword, redirecting the force of each strike with almost insulting ease.

Minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity.

Archeus was battered, blood dripping from countless shallow cuts. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body trembling from the strain of maintaining his aura.

Lucien, by contrast, appeared almost unscathed. A few scratches marked his gloves and face, but he showed no signs of exhaustion. If anything, he looked... exhilarated.

The two fighters stared at each other across the ruined throne room. Archeus' fists were clenched tightly, his knuckles bloodied and bruised.

Lucien twirled the broken sword in his hand, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"You're stubborn," Lucien said, his tone calm. "I'll give you that."

Archeus didn't respond. He lunged forward, fists blazing, ready for another round.

Lucien met him halfway, the broken sword gleaming in the dim light as the fight continued.

Neither gave ground. One fought to survive. The other fought for the thrill of it. The stalemate continued, the air between them charged with raw energy.

Lucien was enjoying every second. Archeus was barely holding on.

The battle was far from over.

Meanwhile in the battle at the other side, Valeri fights Armoush, Hector takes on Asjllani and The Lich while Logan faces Hamed. Armand Is in a drawn out Guerilla Warfare with Marmoush, countering every arrow. He reveals his skill, he can duplicate anything, himself, his arrows too. And each carries just enough. Armoush is quick and his dagger causes Hallucinations from its poison. Valeri fights with Aikido. Their battle is so fast its hard to keep up with. Valeri is countering Everything. After training with Lucien for so long there aren't enough people that can best him in a 1v1 and those people aren't in the room. Armoush is enjoying it and Valeri is protecting his hand with Ki enhancement. But the Poison corrodes the ki.

Armand crouched behind a shattered column, his breathing steady, his sharp eyes locked on the distant figure of Marmoush. The archer was perched atop a broken parapet, his silhouette outlined against the crimson sky. The castle-like structure between them was a labyrinth of jagged walls and broken staircases, the perfect stage for guerilla warfare.

Armand adjusted his grip on his bow, his fingers brushing against the fletching of an arrow. 800 meters. Not an easy shot, but more than doable. He notched the arrow and drew back the string.

Marmoush moved before Armand could release, his figure flickering as if made of shadows. A clone appeared beside him, identical in every way. Then another. And another. Soon, the castle walls were alive with Marmoush's duplicates, each one moving independently, their bows drawn and aimed. Armand exhaled. "So that's your trick, huh? Copying aura signatures."

A volley of arrows rained down on him.

With a sharp pivot, Armand leaped to the side, his body rolling as the arrows embedded themselves into the stone floor where he had been crouched. He loosed his own arrow mid-roll, aiming for one of the clones.

It pierced through, dissipating the figure into a wisp of dark energy.

"One down. Dozens to go," Armand muttered, already on the move.

The battle turned into a deadly dance. Armand moved through the ruins like a shadow, his agility unmatched as he countered Marmoush's relentless barrage. Arrows whizzed past him, slicing through the air with lethal precision.

Armand's arrows found their marks too, each shot calculated, each clone disappearing into wisps of nothingness. But the real Marmoush remained elusive, his true form hidden among the chaos.

Then, one of the clones slipped through Armand's defenses.

The shadowy figure emerged from behind, a dagger glinting in its hand. Armand barely turned in time, the blade stabbing deep into his side. His body froze for a split second as pain flared, blood seeping into his armor.

Marmoush's laughter echoed through the battlefield. "Got you."

The real Marmoush stepped out from behind the parapet, his bow slack in his hand as he smirked. "You should have stayed hidden, human."

Armand smiled, despite the blood dripping from his lips. "Who said I lost?" Marmoush's eyes widened as he sensed a presence behind him. Too late. Armand materialized where one of his missed arrows had lodged itself, his bow switched for a dagger. The blade slid across Marmoush's throat in a swift, precise motion. The beast archer's body staggered before collapsing, its eyes wide in disbelief.

Armand stood over the fallen archer, wiping the blood from his blade. He pressed a hand to his wound, wincing but steady. "You were too predictable," he muttered before vanishing into the shadows once more.

The sound of steel clashing filled the air as Valeri met Armoush head-on.

The thief's movements were a blur, his ancient dagger technique fluid and unpredictable. Each step was a dance, each slash a calculated strike meant to disarm and disorient. Armoush's blade seemed to hum with dark energy, and Valeri could feel the corrosive aura eating away at his Ki-protected hands with every deflected blow.

This is no ordinary thief, Valeri thought, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his stance.

Armoush grinned, sensing Valeri's caution. "What's the matter, human? Can't keep up?" Valeri didn't respond. He focused, his breathing calm as he transitioned into Aikido. His hands moved in controlled arcs, redirecting Armoush's wild strikes with precise, effortless motions.

Their battle was a blur of speed, too fast for any ordinary observer to follow. Armoush's dagger slashed through the air, his technique a deadly symphony of ancient Arabic blade work. Valeri countered each move, his body flowing like water, deflecting and redirecting every attack. But Armoush wasn't just fast—he was relentless. His strikes became more erratic, forcing Valeri to push himself further.

I need to find an opening, Valeri thought as he parried another strike, his Ki-enhanced hands burning from the corrosive aura.

Armoush lunged forward, his dagger aimed for Valeri's throat. Valeri twisted, narrowly avoiding the blade, and countered with a swift boxing jab to the thief's ribs. The blow connected, but Armoush twisted with the impact, turning it into a spin that brought his blade slicing toward Valeri's side.

Valeri barely avoided the attack, his mind racing. I can counter, but I can't finish this. Not like this.

Armoush laughed, his voice echoing in the ruined hall. "You're skilled, human, but you're holding back. You can't beat me if all you do is defend."

The words stung because they were true. Valeri's training with Lucien had honed his defensive skills to near perfection, but attacking was another story. Against someone like Armoush, defense wouldn't be enough.

Then, in the middle of their exchange, inspiration struck. A memory surfaced, Lucien demonstrating a deadly technique that he seamlessly switched from Aikidos swift flow to a rigid step. one that he combined Mana with precision. Valeri had avoided it before, his lack of Mana control making it too dangerous to attempt. But now, he had no choice.

As Armoush lunged again, Valeri's eyes sharpened. He shifted his stance, his body moving with newfound purpose.

The thief's blade came down in a vicious arc, but Valeri didn't deflect this time. Instead, he stepped into the attack, his hand glowing faintly with Mana.

With a fluid motion, Valeri redirected the dagger's energy, twisting his body as he channeled the Mana into his counterstrike.

But something unexpected happened.

Unintentionally, Valeri combined the Mana with Wind, amplifying the technique's power exponentially. The resulting strike was a devastating explosion of force that caught Armoush completely off-guard.

The thief's body was sent flying, slamming into the far wall with enough force to crack the stone. His dagger clattered to the ground, its dark energy dissipating.

Valeri stood in the center of the room, breathing heavily, his hands still glowing faintly. He stared at them in disbelief.

What did I just do? Armoush groaned, his body crumpled but still alive. Valeri approached cautiously, his stance ready in case the thief had another trick up his sleeve. But Armoush didn't move. For the first time, Valeri allowed himself to exhale. The battle wasn't over, but he had won this round.