City of Desire [Kingdom Building]

Chapter 548: Fire and Ashes

Clang!

He defended quickly before attacking. It was a powerful attack filled with all his fury.

Seeing me attacking him.

I defended the attack, but he repeatedly attacked with the glittering fire burning wildly across his saber.

This fire was leaking through the force field, burning me!

I defended seven times before I was able to attack once again. Unable to breach his defence, he struck me four times before I attacked again.

I am constantly shifting my aura around my skills.

Before, it was like a thick rope, but now it is slimming down without losing the power.

I'm controlling the aura with greater precision and moving it swiftly simultaneously.

I use more aura on my offensive skills when attacking, but as the blades clash, I shift more aura into the Graceful Repel.

This approach has reduced the strain it was putting on my body.

As the seconds ticked by, a small smile crept onto my face. I had accomplished something extraordinary.

I had succeeded in chipping away at the artifact's power, starting from the first wound it inflicted on me. The aura it had bound was now finally freed.

I moved that aura immediately into the skills. Strengthening them a little more.

Clang, Clang, Clang!

We moved in our own personal hellscape as our blades clashed fast and hard.

Every attack would send out more scorching fire around us, making things harder on me.

My eyes have already started to tear up, but unlike me, he is protected from fire, and the smoke also doesn't seem to affect him much.

However, his condition deteriorates as he draws more power from the artifact than his body can endure. Yet, like me, he continues to bear it, refusing to relent.

We are both nearing the limit, but we are pushing ourselves.

Another wound cleared, and like before, I shifted that aura into the skills.

The whittling is happening much faster than before because I understand what I have to do to remove it and also because of my improving control.

With an aura, control is everything. How finely one controls one's aura determines one's power.

My control is visibly improving as I fight, enhancing my attacks and defense.

Clang, Clang, Clang!

The tone of our battle has changed with the clashing of our blades, and now every other strike is from me. Somehow, we are now fighting on equal terms.

Which isn't making him happy.

There is a raging anger in his eyes, which is making the sword blaze even more wildly.

It is likely that this artifact emotionally synchronizes with its user. These kinds of artifacts are powerful, but they are also a double-edged sword.

The user must maintain control over their emotions, or else they will be consumed by them. There is a long list of users that such artifacts have consumed.

His artifact is likely affecting him, amplifying his emotions. This is why the fire is getting wilder and more consuming, making it hard to gain an edge.

"Your emotions are getting messed up by your artifact. If this keeps up, it'll consume you," I said, launching my attack.

"So what? I'll die if I don't take you down first," he shot back, laughing like a maniac.

A second later, his veins were pulsating, turning a sickening red, and bloody mist started seeping from his body. His eyes glowed a deep crimson, sparkling like the fire on his saber.

I froze, every hair on my body standing on end.

'Well, that backfired,' I thought. Should've kept my mouth shut!

My words have taken him over the edge. He has let the artifact take hold of him.

Artifacts aren't alive, but some are made of things that were once alive. Those original emotions remain, and they can affect users if they don't guard their minds well.

"You should have just surrendered, but you didn't. For that, you deserve to burn!" he screamed, his voice raw and twisted, a sound that didn't belong to any man. It sent a chill down my spine, a guttural, otherworldly echo that felt… wrong.

But that fleeting thought was swallowed by the heat of the moment as I watched him swing the saber.

The blade blazed with an intensity that I was unprepared for. It arced high above me, and then, like a storm unleashed, a wave of fire surged forward, larger, hotter, more ferocious than anything before. It wasn't just an attack anymore—it was a force of nature, an inferno, bearing down on me with a relentless hunger.

A cold dread gripped my heart, and in that instant, all I could feel was the overwhelming weight of the fire rushing toward me. Horror washed over me. This... this might be the end.

I squished this feeling as it came, as it was not time to feel dismay.

He had lost himself, but now he was coming for me; if I didn't defend against this attack, I would die a horrific, fiery death.

The fire itself is telling me it will burn me to ashes.

So, once again, I bore the pain and dug deeper. I know there is nothing, but I went deeper because I didn't have enough control to defend it sophisticatedly.

I need raw power. It is the only thing that could save me.

'Ahhhhh…'

I found some, but when I pulled it out. I felt like I was tearing myself apart in a hundred places, but I bore and brought it out.

I pushed it all into myself and my skills as I swung it forward.

CLANG!

My blade clashed against his saber, bearing the wave of fire. It crashed against my blade, making me feel like a tsunami slammed into me.

Its force was powerful enough to send me flying, but I restrained it. Instead, I took steps back to manage the force with the force field holding back the massive wave.

I felt the pressure on me and the limit of my skill.

It was the first time I had sensed it, and it was close. If I push it beyond that, it will break apart, and its backlash will knock me away.

I bore the pressure from the skill and poured even more aura into it, taking it to the limit.

It was only then that it had knocked back the wave back at him.

At that same time, I leaped forward.

I don't have time, and the skill saving my life is at the limit. I am at the limit. I have to end the battle quickly, within seconds, or I will die.

Yes, die.

He had lost his mind, and I don't think he was thinking about the job anymore.

The only thing he wants to do is burn me.

Just as I reached him, I saw him emerging from the roaring wave, unaffected, his figure cutting through the inferno like a specter.

"Die!" he roared, his voice a guttural scream of pure rage as he swung his saber with a vast wave of faceted fire behind it.

CLANG!

We clashed with the Force field, holding back the fire once again. As it repelled it, I leaped toward him once again.

It is evident that he had changed even more.

His entire body had turned a fierce, glowing red, the heat radiating off him intense enough to scorch anyone who dared to come too close. It was the kind of heat that could incinerate a normal person.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

He should be dead despite his stats, but he is still standing.

CLANG CLANG CLANG!

Another second ticked by, and I attacked again and again, meeting every strike he sent my way. But with each blow, I could feel myself growing stronger, my attacks becoming sharper, more precise. The power behind his strikes was beginning to wane.

I could feel it—I was improving, feeding more aura into each attack, drawing strength from the wounds that marred my body. I had already siphoned away the power from sixteen wounds; now, only seven remained. Every step, every strike, brought me closer to draining him completely.

However, I am getting new wounds.

I have been burned on nearly every inch of my skin. Even my clothes had started to smoke, making it harder to breathe, but I was still fighting.

There is no other way out of it.

CLANG!

Another second, once more, my blade clashed against him, but this time. I didn't take even a single step back.

I grinned, bloody, and attacked while he raged.

He might have lost his mind, but he could still see the things that were bad for him, and that made him even more angry.

CLANG CLANG CLANG!

We clashed, and he shook, making my grin even wider. I attacked again, pushing him back a step.

A shock appeared in his eyes.

"Ahhhhhhh….."

At that moment, he had wholly lost it. There is no hint of sanity in his eyes, only rage.

The fire flared across his saber and covered him. Making him a being of fire.

"BURN!"

He let out a roar, but it wasn't his voice—no, it was something far more monstrous, as though the very essence of the artifact had taken over him. With a swing of his saber, he unleashed a fierce power that would instantly shatter my skill.

I felt the urge to retreat, the survival instinct screaming in my mind. I almost did—almost. But I knew that retreating meant certain death. Staying in my usual response would lead to the same grim fate.

Another second, a daring idea flashed into my mind: reckless and dangerous. Without a moment's hesitation, I acted on it, throwing caution to the wind.

I gathered every ounce of aura I had left and shoved it into Blitz Steps, propelling myself toward him with everything I could muster. In mid-air, I shifted all that energy into Graceful Repel and Razor Edge, molding them together with a raw, unrelenting focus.

The control wasn't there—not at first. But I willed it with sheer force, bending the Graceful Repel into a sharp, powerful wedge. I wrapped Razor Edge around it, creating a deadly shield with me standing just behind it, the blade positioned at its very edge, ready for the strike.

As I flew toward him, he saw me coming, and just as I had anticipated, his saber shifted, the fire flaring in response to my move.

The bandit may have lost his mind, but his instincts were still sharp, his deadly precision intact. He swung his saber in a way that would exploit my every move, positioning himself to take full advantage of my strike.

In the blink of an eye, I reached him, the wedge of Graceful Repel cutting through the thick fire that had enveloped him. Our weapons finally collided in a deafening clash.

Just as I had anticipated, the full power of the artifact surged to try and break the wedge, its overwhelming force transferring solely upon it. It was the only way he could burn me—channeling all its power into one last, desperate attempt.

But as the fire surged forward, I shifted with it. My short sword, wrapped in the deadly Razor Edge, drove toward the enemy with swift, lethal precision, its edge gleaming as it closed in.

Crack Crack Crack

Another second passed, and it happened: I began to hear a faint crack in my mind. The fire was too much for the skill, and it had started to crack.

"Ahhhhhhhh…."

Each sound felt like someone hacking my soul with a blunt ax. It was beyond painful, with the promise to take me to oblivion.

I bore it and didn't stop what I was doing.

The enemy finally noticed and reacted instinctually, but it was too late.

The short sword was now so close that there was no time for him to evade it. Yet, even in that split second, he made an effort—an instinctual, desperate attempt to shift and avoid the strike. But he saw it too late. I had pushed myself, my body moving with a force I hadn't thought possible, driving the sword forward with everything I had.

Puch!

At last, the blade struck true, driving into his skull with unrelenting force. It tore through flesh and bone, emerging clean on the other side, a grim testament to the sheer, unyielding power behind the strike.

I released my grip, my gaze locking onto the enemy—and my breath caught in disbelief. He was still alive.

A cold shudder shot through my chest, but before I could react, something changed. The searing fire that had been consuming me moments before began to fade, its blistering heat vanishing into thin air. No—not vanishing. It was being drawn into the saber, the flames swirling toward it like a ravenous vortex.

As the last ember disappeared, the enemy's body began to darken, its flesh turning an unnatural, ashen black. A dreadful silence fell, the air thick with an eerie, foreboding stillness.

He was still alive.

Slowly, he opened his mouth, his cracked lips trembling as if summoning every ounce of strength he had left.

"Y…"

The single sound escaped him—a fragment of a word, a question, a curse—I would never know.

Before he could finish, his face darkened, the ashen blackness consuming him entirely.

Then, with a brittle, hollow crack, his body crumbled, collapsing into a mound of ash that scattered into the wind, leaving nothing behind but the echo of his final, unfinished word.

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