Jumping back several steps, Cynrik narrowed his eyes, he had used about 30% of his full strength in that strike, but Brance was unphased by it and swept his greatsword horizontally in an attempt to blast Cynrik away, giving him some space to figure out his next move.
[[Foolish Brancie, always using your head during a fight when you should be acting on instinct.]] Dropping to his belly and easily dodging the sweeping strike, Cynrik, flipping onto his back, wrapped his right leg around the scythe and kicked out, effectively attacking with the weapon using his leg as a fulcrum.
Whipping the scythe-like an extension of his leg, Cynrik tried to take out Brance’s feet just below the knee, but his younger brother had already predicted the attack and jumped just high enough to get out of the way of the abnormally fast strike.
Using a blast of Wind Mana, Brance guided himself several meters away and slung his greatsword back over his shoulder.
“Petty tricks don’t work on me, brother; you’ll have to try better,” Brance said while wearing a confident smile.
“Your words, not mine.” Tilting his head to the side, Cynrik revealed his left hand, which was already formed into a claw and glowing with Dark Mana, making Brance’s pupils constrict as he recognized what skill Cynrik was using, but it was too late to avoid it.
Ten shadow tendrils ripped from the ground and stabbed at Brance’s legs, rooting him in place.
Cynrik had disguised his use of [Shadow Sewing] by distracting his younger brother with the scythe leg sweep.
“SHIT!” Brance growled angrily at his misstep. Then, using his Light Mana coated greatsword, Brance made quick work of the shadow tendrils before healing himself. But, unfortunately, he had wasted too much time, for when he looked up, he saw almost two dozen fireballs floating around his body silently.
“PLAYING DIRTY WILL GET YOU NOWHERE!” Howling in fake anger, Brance spun his greatsword and used it to channel a powerful blast of air, knocking away all the fireballs.
Thinking quickly, Brance activated [Haste], giving himself the speed advantage over Cynrik since they both had an AGI stat of 470. Then, using the additional burst of speed, Brance dashed towards his brother, who was preparing another skill, and stabbed his greatsword at Cynrik’s chest. Still, the older brother quickly countered it by spinning his scythe and catching Brance in the jaw with the butt of the weapon, knocking him back several steps.
“Timing beats speed every time, little brother; you’ll have to be better if you want to win.” Chuckling softly, Cynrik and Brance once again began circling each other, looking for any opening to exploit.
Across the field in the bleachers, all the students were slack-jawed as they watched the brothers go back and forth. They could feel their hearts racing and their breath catching in their throats. The exhibition Cynrik and Brance put on for them was so good that many couldn’t believe they were witnessing a real fight and not a fight scene from an action movie.
Even more surprising was that neither brother really seemed to have the upper hand. Sure, Cynrik had landed a few blows, but none of them seemed to cause any damage to the much larger and more muscular Brance.
On the other hand, Gabby, Benny, and Selene watched the fight like hawks; this was the first time they had ever seen the brothers get semi-serious and fight each other. Of course, they had seen them spar hundreds of times but never were the two doing anything other than moving their bodies. Instead, the two analyzed and predicted the other’s every move, allowing their one-on-one combat styles to shine.
Brance was heavily aggressive, using his strength to his advantage, while Cynrik seemed to always be ready with a counter, giving the two very distinct and opposite styles.
Going back and forth, the brothers matched each other and flitted around the arena for over thirty rounds, making Professor Dennis and Instructor Garrison narrow their eyes in contemplation.
“The two are evenly matched.” Breaking the silence, Instructor Garrison spoke his thoughts softly.
“Agreed; however, they are fighting on a razor’s edge margin. One poorly executed move and the other will capitalize on it and end the fight. I will say, though, that Ivar may very well win this. I find it impressive how Brance uses his Light Affinity to instantly deal with the Dark Mana corrosive attacks that attempt to eat away at his HP. Still, he is constantly healing himself, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he succumbs to Mana sickness.” Professor Dennis’s eyes tracked the movements of Brance and Cynrik as they covered a large amount of ground.
“True, but the tempo Ivar is keeping no doubt is draining his Stamina and MP faster than how Björn is fighting. However, if memory serves, he chose the Thief class as his primary during Tier-1, while his brother went with Warrior, so in a battle of attrition, the Warrior should be able to last much longer.” Popping his knuckles and shoving his hands into his pockets, Instructor Garrison spoke his opinion.
“You two would be right normally, but I think you forget that they are above else, brothers who constantly train together. They know each and every one of the other’s weaknesses and strengths.” A voice suddenly appeared behind the two men, but it didn’t startle them since they knew who it belonged.
“You are correct in that sense, Headmaster; however, it is still a bad matchup for Ivar Ragnarsson at the core.” Then, nodding in greeting to Headmaster Rivia, Professor Dennis welcomed the Headmaster, who had come all the way to the arena solely to watch the fight between the brothers live.
CRACK CRACK CRACK, SHATTER!
All three adults narrowed their eyes and fell silent at the sound of a weapon breaking, which rang out, causing the other students to gasp loudly.
“Sigh, saw that one coming; the training weapons are only rated to Peak of Tier-1, yet they both are using the force of Tier-2’s im honestly surprised it didn’t happen sooner. This doesn’t look good for the younger Ragnarsson.”
Going back a minute or two, Cynrik and Brance were clashing fiercely, with Brance slashing his greatsword tens of times a second from seemingly unpredictable angles, forcing Cynrik to weave in and out of the chaos, all while constantly spinning his scythe and clashing with the sword in order to knock it off course.
Unlike Brance, who was throwing his weight into every attack, Cynrik was simply redirecting them, using the centripetal motion of his spins to redirect the kinetic energy. Unfortunately, this abusive and stressful fighting style caused a large amount of damage to Brance’s weapon, and after several minutes of back and forth clashes, the greatsword finally cracked several times before shattering completely.
“It’s over, little brother; I have the high ground,” snickering at his own joke, Cynrik twirled his scythe and went for Brance’s neck with it. But to the surprise of everyone present, Brance threw up his left arm, covered in stone, and took the hit head-on.
“Heh, too bad for you. I am just as good without a weapon as with one.” Brance spat cockily as he knocked the scythe’s head away. Then, taking a southpaw boxer’s stance, Brance returned on the offensive, firing jabs at lightning speed, forcing Cynrik to deflect them with his scythe or dodge at the last second.
Covering both fists with boxing gloves made of rock, Brance made short work of the durability of Cynrik’s scythe. After a few more hits, it buckled under the pressure and shattered in the center, sending the head flying off several meters behind him.
“Two can play this game,” Cynrik taunted, assuming a standard MMA fighting stance.
[Fucking hell, we’ve been at this for a solid 25 minutes now; when the hell are they gonna call it a draw.] Cynrik complained as he threw a two-punch combination finishing it with a head kick that was quickly blocked by Brance’s right arm.
[Not sure, but keep up; im increasing the tempo again. Oh, by the way, the Headmaster showed up not long ago.] Bobbing around Cynrik’s attacks and blocking a pair of head kicks, Brance left a slight opening. Giving Cynrik enough time to peek over his shoulder and spot Headmaster Rivia, who watched the fight with narrowed eyes.
[Shit, you don’t think he knows we aren’t serious, do you?] Clicking his tongue, Cynrik jumped back and charged up a burst of Fire Mana into his arm before unleashing [Continuous Flames] at Brance, who bounced up into the air and kicked at them, shooting a blast of air to counter the fire.
[Probably, considering he has watched both our previously recorded fights, the one back at the Pinhurst Mansion and the one the other day.] Landing back on the ground, Brance stomped the dirt forcefully and manifested almost a hundred small stones, and with the aid of his Wind Mana, added a rotation to them, turning each rock into a large bullet before directing them at Cynrik.
“Damn it, [Shadow Leap].” Then, chanting the name of his skill, Cynrik sunk into the ground and disappeared from sight for half a second before reappearing behind Brance and dropkicking him in the back, exactly like he had done earlier, flinging his little brother several meters forward.
As Brance flew through the air, he reached out and touched the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust, and began working on using his ultimate attack, forcing Cynrik into a rough situation while looking impressive at the same time.
“What are you up to now, little brother? Controlling the dirt with your Earth Affinity to block my eyes won’t work; you should know better than that.” Then, realizing Brance was going for broke and spotting the tiny portals appearing in the sky with his [Mana Sight], Cynrik wracked his brain for a solution.
‘Brance’s [Swords of Judgement] can manifest up to 30 enormous swords of light; he really wants to put on a show, alright, guess it’s time to show off a bit.’ Glancing at his current MP, Cynrik began focusing the bulk of his remaining points on each hand, one with Fire, the other Dark.
‘I haven’t used [BlackFire Cyclone] without my swords, but the principle should be the same so long as I use a knife-hand. The only issue is if I can make enough Cyclones to contend with so many of those shiny, bullshit greatswords. No, wait, Light and Dark will cancel each other out, leaving only the Fire particles intact. So I have to go beyond that.’
Changing his plans instantly, Cynrik created a mini [BlackFire Cyclone] on each of his ten fingers and pushed off the ground to get out of the dust cloud.
‘When I slash out to enlarge the cyclones, I need to use Wind Mana a little more or risk obliterating my fingers. Usually, the kodachi would take the damage chipping away slightly at their durability, but things change if I use my own body.’
Making up his mind and wearing a focused expression, Cynrik looked up just in time to see 30 brightly shining and massive greatswords coming out of portals made of pure Light Mana above in the sky.
-This series is exclusively published on WebNovel if you are reading it anywhere else…You Wrong, Fam. PS Check out the discord, https://discord.gg/dcxKNJEMwg