Fighting the Statues

Back to the ancient dungeon where Amukelo and his friend were training, Amukelo now stood in front of a statue that defeated him some time ago. Amukelo's posture radiated a newfound mastery and determination as he faced the statue he had struggled against earlier. The entire training area held a palpable sense of anticipation. The air seemed to vibrate with the potential of his enhanced abilities, evident in the confident, almost serene way he positioned himself for the battle.

The statue, now using its full power from the start, charged towards him, its movements swift and determined. Yet, Amukelo remained composed, his breathing measured and deep. Each inhalation and exhalation seemed to sync with the rhythmic pulsing of the mana he was gathering within him, a visible aura beginning to shimmer around his form.

As the statue neared, Amukelo suddenly burst into action. A radiant coat of mana enveloped him, sparkling with intensity as it amplified his movements. His body blurred, movements becoming a series of swift, fluid motions that were both graceful and deadly. He dodged each attack with minimal effort, his body swaying and weaving through the barrage like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze.

Then, releasing the mana, and creating a coat from it, Amukelo transitioned from defense to offense. His dual swords—each linked to the core of his being through years of training and battle—moved with lethal precision. The legendary dark armor sword, imbued with a powerful essence, trailed a mesmerizing black-red mana flow that seemed to cut through the air itself. His elven sword, a contrast in both style and essence, produced a vivid green mana flow, bright and piercing against the darker hues of his other blade.

The visual spectacle of the mana flows was stunning. As Amukelo swung his swords, the air around him was sliced by the contrasting trails of energy, creating a dance of colors that was both beautiful and deadly. The statue, unable to withstand the intensity and precision of Amukelo's assault, began to show signs of wear. Cracks appeared along its stone body, spreading and deepening with each strike.

Finally, with a swift combination of strikes that intertwined the black-red and green mana in a deadly ballet, Amukelo delivered a final, crushing blow. The statue crumbled before him, reduced to rubble in a matter of moments. Amukelo stepped back, his breathing still even, his brow unfurrowed by sweat—a testament to his growth and newfound prowess.

The ghost, observing the display, couldn't hide his approval. With a nod, he signaled to the control mechanism of the training area. "I think you can try again. Yet before you start, you have to leave that state, as it will be useless to you if you won't be able to go into that under the pressure," he said, an intrigued tone to his voice. At his command, ten more statues emerged from the shadows of the training ground, each one taking a position surrounding Amukelo. They were arrayed in a circle, their stances aggressive yet disciplined, ready to test his abilities further. 

Eliss and the others watched from the sidelines, their expressions a mix of awe and tension. The air thickened with anticipation as everyone prepared to witness Amukelo's next challenge. 

The air was charged with tension as the statues simultaneously advanced towards Amukelo, their movements synchronized and menacing. Amidst the encroaching threat, Amukelo remained poised, his focus sharpening as he attempted to gather the mana necessary to envelop himself in a mana coat. The statues, relentless in their assault, did not afford him the luxury of undivided concentration, challenging his ability to multitask under pressure.

As a particularly swift strike aimed at his flank, Amukelo realized evasion was impossible; he swiftly parried the blow, disrupting his mana accumulation. Frustrated but undeterred, he quickly recalibrated his strategy. With a deft movement, he swept the leg of one statue, effectively destabilizing its stance and temporarily slowing the group's coordinated attack. This tactical maneuver bought him the precious seconds needed to resume his mana gathering.

This time, he was more prepared, aware of the balance required between defense and his energetic preparations. As he restarted his process, the damaged statue hobbled, causing a slight delay in the otherwise relentless pace of the attacks. This gap allowed Amukelo to focus intensely on drawing mana, albeit with the knowledge that he must remain alert to incoming threats.

The statues soon recovered from their brief disarray and renewed their offensive, their movements a stark contrast to Amukelo's fluid and controlled demeanor. He wove between them, his actions a blend of combat and dance, evading and parrying while continuing to channel mana. Despite the complexity of his task, he successfully accumulated a significant amount of energy, though only reaching about eighty-five percent of his potential capacity. Under normal circumstances, this might have been a cause for disappointment, but given the intensity of the situation and his expanded capabilities, it was a commendable achievement.

With his mana coat, Amukelo felt a surge of power. He expanded his aura, an essential precursor to initiating the flow of mana that would enhance his combat effectiveness. The air around him seemed to thrum with potential as he prepared to channel the energy into dynamic, visible flows.

As he initiated the mana flows, they materialized in vivid black-red and green streams, each pulse and swirl of energy perfectly synchronized with his movements. Amukelo moved with a grace that belied the deadly precision of his strikes. To the onlookers, it appeared as though he was performing a complex ballet, each step and turn executed with exacting precision.