The battlefield was alive with carnage.

  Two warriors, drenched in sweat and blood, clashed with monstrous force. Every movement they made sent shockwaves through the corpse-littered wasteland, painting the already crimson-stained ground with fresh blood. The air was thick with the stench of death and the sharp, metallic tang of gore.

  One was a towering behemoth of muscle and rage, his body wrapped in crude, spiked, battle-worn armor. His skin was ashen, marred with deep scars from battles long past. In his grasp, a colossal axe dripped with the blood of his fallen foes. His attacks were devastating, each swing meant to cleave the smaller warrior in two.

  The other was a smaller, leaner figure, a blur of motion in the midst of the carnage. His light armor was torn, revealing flesh streaked with grime and wounds that barely seemed to slow him. He wielded twin curved blades with lethal precision, his speed a near-incomprehensible blur as he darted around the larger opponent, striking like a serpent and dodging death by mere inches.

  Luxerio lay low, hidden behind a pile of torn corpses, watching in awe. His breath was shallow, heart hammering in his chest. He had heard of people with superhuman prowess like these before—men and beasts capable of feats that defied human limits—but hearing about them and witnessing them firsthand were two different things entirely.

  He wasn't even really that they were actually who he was thinking of.

  The smaller fighter was impossibly fast. His feet barely touched the ground before he was gone again, leaving Luxerio constantly trying to keep up with his movement. His strikes, precise and ruthless, found their mark again and again, carving deep into the massive warrior's flesh. Yet, for all his speed, he couldn't land a finishing blow.

  The giant, despite his wounds, fought with monstrous endurance. His attacks were slower, but when they landed, they sent shockwaves through the air. Luxerio watched as the smaller warrior narrowly avoided a strike that split the earth itself, sending body parts and dirt flying in all directions. The behemoth wasn't just strong—he was relentless.

  In the chaos, the two fighters used everything around them. The smaller warrior leapt off a pile of bodies, using the momentum to bring his blades down toward his opponent's head.

  The larger one, unfazed, ripped a corpse from the ground and used it as a makeshift shield, the sickening crunch of bone and flesh absorbing the impact. He then hurled the corpse at his opponent with such force that it was like a cannonball, forcing the smaller warrior to twist midair and slash it apart before landing.

  Luxerio shuddered. Their capabilities were beyond human. Beyond anything he had ever witnessed or even hoped to replicate half of.

  Then, without warning, a blur tore through the battlefield. A monstrous, unseen force whistled through the air.

  CRASH!

  Something massive slammed into the ground between the fighters, sending a shockwave that nearly knocked Luxerio off balance. Dust and debris exploded outward. The giant warrior, his axe raised for another devastating strike, halted. The smaller warrior, too, froze, instincts on edge. Their eyes locked onto the intruding force.

  It was a greatsword.

  Embedded deep in the earth, the weapon was massive—almost absurdly so. It gleamed with a strange sheen, its edge lined with intricate, unknown carvings. The sheer force with which it had landed was unnatural, splitting the ground like an earthquake had struck.

  It also had a thin line of blood on its edge, like it had just severed something clean off.

  Before anyone could react, something else happened.

  The larger warrior let out a strangled roar of agony. His massive arm, which held his axe the tightest, was severed clean from his body. Blood gushed from the wound in violent torrents as his weapon fell uselessly to the ground, barely being held by his other hand.

  The smaller warrior, despite his advantage, did not press the attack. Instead, his body moved instinctively, whirling around to raise his blades in defense.

  Too late.

  A force—impossibly swift—crashed into him with the impact of a meteor. His body was flung backward, slamming into the now-maimed behemoth with such power that both warriors tumbled to the ground in a tangled mess of blood and limbs. The earth cracked beneath them from the sheer impact.

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  And then, out of the settling dust, a new presence emerged.

  A figure stood where the two warriors had just been. His presence alone was suffocating, an overwhelming weight pressing upon the battlefield like an unspoken decree of death.

  He was clad in full armor, blackened metal that gleamed under the dim, bloodstained sky. His form was statuesque, exuding both grace and raw power. The greatsword strapped to his back was as large as the one he had just thrown, its hilt resting easily on his mighty back, as if it weighed nothing at all.

  His helmet, a thing of nightmares, bore a smooth, featureless faceplate, devoid of expression. It was unnerving, more terrifying than any monstrous visage could be. A specter of war, an executioner of untold devastation.

  Luxerio's breath hitched as he watched the warrior turn his head ever so slightly, regarding the fallen fighters with an unreadable gaze. Then, with effortless ease, he gripped the greatsword embedded in the earth and pulled it free with a single motion, flourishing it as if testing its weight.

  There was no hesitation. No theatrics. Just lethal, efficient motion. A warrior prepared to finish what had been started.

  And Luxerio, despite everything he had just seen, felt a cold certainty settle deep in his gut.

  This battle was going to look very bad for the other two.

  The armored warrior wasted no time. The moment the two battered fighters gathered themselves, it surged forward, its plated form moving with an unnatural swiftness. The greatsword in its grasp howled through the air, a blurred arc of destruction descending toward the larger warrior.

  The behemoth, still reeling from the gaping wound in its shoulder, barely had time to react. It raised its axe with its one good arm in a desperate attempt to block, but it was futile. The sheer force behind the downward slash cleaved through metal and flesh alike, burying deep into the giant's torso. A guttural roar of agony filled the battlefield as the warrior, refusing to fall, grabbed onto the embedded greatsword with its monstrous strength, locking it in place within its own flesh.

  Luxerio watched, his breath caught in his throat. The sheer brutality of it was enough to make Luxerio wince at the thought of it happening to him. The armored warrior had just buried a massive sword into a living opponent, and yet—

  His thoughts halted as movement flashed to the side. The smaller warrior, bloodied but relentless, blitzed forward, the unnatural speed a blur even to Luxerio's eyes. In an instant, the figure was upon the armored warrior, twin blades poised to sever its throat.

  A metallic clang echoed as the armored warrior, without even turning its head, raised a gauntleted arm. The smaller warrior's strike bounced off uselessly, the force of the impact sending a jarring shudder through their limbs. Before they could retreat, the armored one swatted them aside like a mere nuisance.

  Luxerio flinched as he watched the smaller warrior's body launch through the air, twisting violently before slamming into the ground. He barely had time to process that impact before the armored warrior turned back to the greatsword still lodged in the behemoth's body. With both hands gripping the weapon, it heaved the massive warrior into the air, its hulking form flailing helplessly before being hurled across the battlefield like a ragdoll.

  The ground trembled as the behemoth crashed, landing dangerously close to where the smaller warrior was forcing themselves back to their feet. Luxerio could see it now—the moment of unspoken understanding between the two. For a fleeting moment, all previous animosity was cast aside. They weren't rivals anymore. They were survivors staring down death itself.

  Side by side, they charged.

  The larger warrior, wounded yet defiant, raised its massive axe with its remaining arm. The smaller one, light on their feet, darted in an unpredictable pattern, seeking an opening. Together, they struck.

  The armored warrior met them head-on.

  The greatsword swung horizontally, forcing the smaller warrior to duck while the behemoth took the brunt of the impact against its axe. The force of the clash sent shockwaves through the air. The ground cracked beneath them.

  Luxerio watched, entranced. The battle was beyond anything he had ever imagined. The sheer speed, the absurd strength—this was the kind of power he had only ever heard about in whispers. It wasn't just strength. The armored warrior moved with an eerie precision, predicting their movements, countering effortlessly. It was as if it wasn't just fighting them—it was dismantling them.

  The smaller warrior, undeterred, found an opening and lunged. A blade aimed for the armored one's knee—a weak point. But the armored warrior was faster. Its free hand shot out, gripping the smaller warrior's ankle mid-strike.

  Luxerio's breath caught in his throat.

  The smaller warrior thrashed, trying to twist free, but it was no use. The armored warrior, showing no hesitation, lifted them with terrifying ease and swung them like a living weapon. Their body became an instrument of destruction as it was slammed into the behemoth's chest with a sickening crunch.

  Again.

  And again.

  Each impact sent splashes of blood and bone into the air. The behemoth tried to defend itself, but there was no blocking this. The smaller warrior's screams became gurgled chokes, their body growing limp even as it was used to pummel their former enemy into the dirt.

  Luxerio's stomach twisted. He had thought he had grown used to death, but this? This wasn't just killing. This was complete and utter domination. The armored warrior was toying with them, breaking them in the most efficient, merciless way possible.

  The behemoth finally collapsed, its body twitching before going still. The smaller warrior—what remained of them—snapped apart in the armored warrior's grip, their shattered form discarded like a broken tool.

  Luxerio swallowed hard, his mind a whirlwind of fear and fascination. He had just witnessed something beyond human. Even the supernatural strength of the two warriors paled in comparison to this…thing.

  And then it turned.

  The armored warrior's helmeted gaze shifted, locking onto Luxerio's position. It had known he was there.

  Luxerio barely had time to process this before something moved.

  A flash of steel—

  A whistling blur hurtling toward him at terrifying speed—

  He had no time to think.

  Only time to react.