518 Enough Sacrifices

BOOM-!

Spirit exploded, the azure flames creating an inferno across the Arena. Requiring no form of fuel to burn, its heat being both a comforting warm and a scorching hot. Occasionally a flickering flame would be cut into two by an invisible force, causing it to be snuffed out. Blue sparks would sparkle, spreading out like fireworks.

Fist and sword clashes, the two struggling in a contest of strength. One side relented and pulled away before releasing a powerful strike. Azure struck plain gray, and a firework of blue released.

Wrock felt his hands stinging, the amount of times he struck that sturdy swords was nigh impossible to count. Although he received next to no damage to his hands, the recoil was being transmitted directly through his bones. It was dulling the feeling his arms gave, and was beginning to affect his performance.

Additionally he could no longer feel his beginning advantage. Watching Akiol's match was enough to give him an edge, but only for the beginning. Merin had long adjusted and was putting her own countermeasures in place. Somehow he was losing in the one thing he was confident in, his speed to adjusting in battle.

How many times during their sparring did Akiol completely switch fighting styles? An incredible amount of experience he had in adjusting, yet Merin was now outpacing him! Even with Rebirth his advantage was being torn from his hands.

An invisible projectile slammed into his chest, a thin cut forming that was immediately cauterized. He grit his teeth, this was another pain in the battle. This strange cutting, it couldn't be sensed! It felt similar to the {Origami Style} showcased by Akiol on how the cuts were hidden, but the method was far from the same!

His ears picked up Humive's voice despite the buzz of the audience. As if his body located the answer for him from his surroundings. Sword Intent, he had an idea of what that was supposed to be. When you've reached a point where you could cut things by purely "intending" to. A way to cut things without having to swing.

There was something similar for those who studied Martial Arts. He read about it out of interest, but the level it required was far from what he could obtain. Moreover there was no set way to obtain it. Forming from purely enlightenment. Wrock could hardly believe that Merin had touched upon this enlightenment in their battle!

Just how monstrous could one person be? This level. . . it was beyond the realm of 'genius'. This was truly someone who touched upon the apex! Which made it all the more frustrating!

Wrock slammed his palm against the sword and gripped it, "This fighting, while stronger it doesn't possess the level of technique you had against Akiol. That guy's strength when empowered by Aura was near the level I'm at now. It should have been even greater with the Berserk Skill. So what is this?"

Merin's eyes seemed to dim, as if losing the excitement, "I fought that one to show him the error in his path. You're different, the path you follow is similar to my own. So naturally I wish to see how far you can go."

"Wrong path?! What do you mean?!"

"He must have realized it already, he studied too many different styles of the sword. Because of it their habits have stacked and left no room for his own way."

"You mean to tell me because he studied from all those people he can no longer improve?!"

"That would be correct, an improper foundation leads to improper growth. That guy no longer has any form to grow. . .", Merin paused as she thought about the strange method of which Akiol's styles disappeared. In her enjoyment she nearly forgot about it.

"That guy. . ."

Merin flicked her wrist and freed her sword, "Push yourself higher Wrock. This isn't the last of your fight right? Even I'm improving as we speak, surely you can too?"

The flames that spread across the Arena flickered out simultaneously. Wrock looked towards the South Spectator Box, his eyes finding his party. When their eyes locked an understanding passed between them all.

Akiol had once again sacrificed something for them. This time it was a far greater sacrifice than they had thought. In his effort to cover for their mistakes, to protect and grow alongside them, he ruined his future with the sword. . .

Not a single one of them knew how to fix that.

A sword flickered towards Wrock's throat. Merin tilted her head, "You would've died, why aren't you continuing."

"Is what you said true?"

"What exactly?"

"Of Akiol's foundation or whatever."

Merin parted her lips, she considered her options. She could speak of the slim chance he had, after all it seemed like he destroyed everything he created. However there was no promises that such a technique would prove to be helpful. If anything it looked like he destroyed his foundation in a fit of despair. It could have still ruined his chances.

With a decision made she said, "Yes, the chances of him finding a way out of that situation are slim. So slim that it seems like his future won't be bright."

Wrock looked upwards and a helpless laugh escaped, "That guy. . . !"

Merin's eyes narrowed, Wrock's image flickered in and out. Replacing with that of a multicolored Phoenix. A Phoenix with multiple colors, such a thing didn't exist. Even the Origin Phoenix didn't have that many colors.

More importantly the Phoenix that Wrock's Spirit showed was Azure, so where were these other colors coming from? She couldn't feel the Spirit changing, in fact Wrock wasn't doing anything at all!

Wrock murmured, "This entire time I've been fighting, all this growth I've put my all into. It was so I could fight by his side. To be strong enough to where he no longer needed to do these pointless sacrifices. It seems I'm too late."

Placing a hand near his chest he felt the Spirit swirling through him. This strange avatar or whatever it was. The control he was able to have over it, the density and quality of Spirit. It was far greater than when they fought the Demon Lord.

What a foolish thought he had. Unable to improve without reaching his prime again. Wasn't Merin doing exactly that? Reduced to a mere fraction of her actual strength yet she was improving at a rapid pace. This entire time Wrock thought he was merely 'making do', adjusting how he fought to make up for his lack of strength.

That was wrong, he was improving this whole time. How much of an idiot was he? Blindsided by the idea of becoming what he once was, he shouldn't have been aiming for that. After all what he once was couldn't stop Akiol from following this path.

He should've been aiming even higher.

Lifting his hand he pushed away Merin's blade, "My apologies. That was. . . some shocking news."

"It seems you two know each other."

"We've had more than our fair share of battles together."

"Then I'm sorry to have to be the one to break it to you."

"That's fine, I think we all have an idea of what's going to happen from here. You said you wanted me to grow higher was that right?"

"Of course."

"Then I ask you to stop holding back."

". . . Very well."

Wrock distanced himself with a single leap back. Taking up a basic stance he sent a small prayer. For Akiol's health, for his path, and for it to be enough sacrifices.