Chương 70: REDEMPTION

T'balt ran at the demented angel, cloaked in smoke, and Ellie took to the sky. But with a hefty scream, Monan blasted a wall of wind at them. The smoke quickly dissipated, forcing T'balt to his physical form, and the wind made it difficult for Ellie to fly. She kept trying over and over, but he who controlled the wind controlled the battlefield. This was a lesson they both learned fighting Chosa. Every time T'balt tried to approach with his smoke, he was cleanly blown away.

If smoke was the counter to light, then wind was the counter to smoke, as T'balt was easily blown away. He and his attacks. Now Monan's movements were enhanced by wings and wind, which meant he was unstoppable as long as they were in the air. Ellie didn't stand a chance when she tried to meet him there, even with the enhancement of her arrows. He created waves in the air, riding the slipstream. She tried to sense them and ride with them instead of against them. But Monan could always turn them around in his favor.

He pulled her into a tumble, forcing her to rebalance herself in the air, but it was already too late and too far away for T'balt to intervene. He rode the wave behind her and slashed his light word right on her spine. Ellie plummeted some fifty feet to the ground. Still on the ground, T'balt saw her falling and leaped in the air, grabbing her body before it could plow against the concrete. He held her softly and gently, the light fading from her eyes. It was already too late for her.

The overload had taken its toll, and the cut on her back was just the icing on the cake. It wasn't until he had her in his arms that he realized that she was dying.

"Ellie. Don't… I can save you… I can…" He reached into his bag, but she grabbed his hand, closing it.

"No…" she struggled to say.

"All it takes is one chance…"

"Ellie, stop, let me…"

"I'm not afraid," she said.

"I'm glad… I'll wake up again… in a world where we're all happy. I believe…" He'd seen this sight before. That didn't make it any easier. Not yet. But before he could start to panic again, she put that comforting hand on his. The hand said you knew this was inevitable. But it also said I believe in you. She wasn't afraid that she was dying because she believed T'balt's words that she would wake up in a world where everyone would be together and none of the deaths today would matter.

He couldn't even cry at this point because this death was filled with purpose, reigniting the flame. He laid her down gently, her body unmoving and wings fading into that distant, deadly smoke. He saw Monan. He was picking himself up, still breathing heavy, the fifth loot obviously taking its toll.

"Another one bites the dust, eh…"

"This will be the last time you make her suffer… fourth equip. Flame sword." It was what he had to do. Stoop to Monan's level. Do whatever it takes to win. That would be the only way to make all the suffering worth it. And he was ready to end it with the loot that brought him to the dance. The one he was strangely most comfortable with. And they would go sword for sword. The overload immediately went to work on his body, making his skin go pale and his breath seethe with that vicious smoke.

Combined with his smoke loot, he was breathing like a faulty muffler. But that just meant the engine was revving. Over the city, the sounds of swords clashing could be heard throughout. Neither of them was holding back, each delivering all of their strength before the overload took them. Whether that was high in the sky or in the streets. Over a house or through a construction zone. Light, wind, smoke, fire, it bloomed into a flower of emotion like fireworks glistening in the sky.

If one had asked someone on the ground, they might've said that they witnessed the battle between angels and demons. The battle that ruptured the earth, that no one would remember. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. But it was T'balt who would resemble the demon. The smoke trails and flames resembled dark hellfire wings at his back. All the while, he had one intention to kill that would not be satiated until his opponent was dead.

"This is it. All or nothing." T'balt's flame sword plumed black smoke with every strike. Monan's sword trailed golden light, and his body was carried by wind and water. All the while, Monan laughed away like he was having a beer with an old friend.

"Now this I haven't felt in a long time! Just pure grit and fire! A fight to the death! A fight worth more than death!" T'balt cloaked his strikes with smoke as they clashed with the light. Monan responded with wind. He responded with fire. And the struggle continued as they tried to brute force their way to victory, no longer using tactics, using only their primal brains as the overload had primed them. It had brought out a carnivorous, war-hungry side of them both. It or be eaten. Kill or be killed.

Survive or die. It was something T'balt hadn't felt in several iterations. A feeling of absolute adrenaline. Like he had suddenly woken and felt his purpose coursing through his veins. He didn't have to think about moving. He didn't have to struggle for motivation. His mind was singularly focused and would not let him down. This was what it felt like to want something so bad he would die for it, even without the loot. And Monan felt the exact same. T'balt cost Monan a cut, and then Monan would repay the debt.

The swords clashed on the grounds of the city, underneath the largest skyscraper it had to offer. T'balt swung low. Monan would parry and swing high. T'balt dodged and swung again. Clang. Clang. Clang. T'balt went for an overhead swing. Monan used his light form, but just for a quick second, long enough for the strike to flow through his body untouched and throw T'balt off guard. Then the light of the sword entered T'balt's chest, and everything stopped.

And then he screamed, not the painful cry before death, but the rallying cry of one who refused to die. He reared his sword and stabbed it back into Monan, returning the favor. Monan flailed backward as T'balt dropped to the ground. They were both supine on the ground, the fight driven out of them. Yet it was Monan still laughing.

"Looks like you missed any vitals… I'll still survive longer than you, which means I win." Then the sword disappeared from his belly, and the holy water started to slowly reform the hole. T'balt lay breathless. His heart was coming to a stop. He couldn't prevent it from happening anymore. But he wasn't going to let things end like this. He used his arm and pulled himself towards Monan, ready to finish the job no matter what it took. Monan was already to his feet. He looked like the overload would take him soon.

But nowhere near soon enough. He was resilient, still using the Seraph loot and the holy water coursing through his blood to stand tall. He lifted the God Slayer Sword, breathing heavily.

"Not quite there yet. Bad End Redeemer…" But then he saw T'balt mumbling something with a smile on his face.

"Fifth equip. Self-destruct." Crazy, he was crazy and stupid. He was trying to get out on a technicality by wiping them both out at the same time. A self-destruct was suicide, basically guaranteeing a loss if Monan reacted in time. But could he react in time? He had turned into light, but it didn't take him far enough away to avoid the blast. He saw the fire coming for him, and this time, there wasn't anything he could do to escape. And the world was filled with white. The street was destroyed.

The buildings were destroyed. Any sign of life in a 100-yard radius was completely annihilated. The scene looked like the site of a meteor crash. Monan was nothing but a burnt shell. A corpse with blackened skin. Pieces of him crumbled away to join the dusted concrete. He was crumbling. Most of his skin was charred and melted to the bone.

"Dumbass," is what he would've thought if he could think. He was in more pain than he had ever been in before. If he could call it pain. It was that extreme between sensory overload and absolute numbness. But for a few seconds, he was still breathing.

"I… still… outlived…you." He protected himself to an extent, cloaking himself in holy water and shielding his core with his wings. It wasn't enough to save him, but enough to preserve him.

"I... win." The sun shone down on him. But before he could close his eyes, he realized that the world had not reset. That's when he got a glimpse of the man. Naked and clean. He stood in front of him, staring at the same sky, basking in his victory.

"Sixth equip… Second chance."

"You…" It was all Monan could say, and then his breath ceased to be, and what remained of his body blew away with the wind, only leaving his black, red skull. T'balt watched them without words. Taking his breath. He was free at last. The believers were crowding around the crater. They had been through hell and come out the other side, and their leader stood free and unafraid, staring at the sky, picturing his kingdom come. They began to cheer, shouting his name. Praising him. Worshipping him. And then it was gone.

The world shifted back to normal like nothing ever happened.

"You died," the screen in his room said. The adrenaline disappeared from his body, and he only had that aching feeling in his stomach. IT was the aftermath of mental exhaustion. He didn't know what to do. His eyes locked on the screen. Not his game screen, but the screen of his phone that had a text from an unknown number.

"Congrats, kid. You won." T'balt dropped his phone and laid in bed.