"ATHENA!!!" Tanamar screamed.
Divine Armor Orcus was nearly four times his height... but with its movement empowered, it was almost faster than he could comprehend.
He'd already activated his own movement technique, ⌈Aspect of the Winged Seraphim,⌋ and he was speeding towards his girlfriend and twin brother. His mana was circulating inside his body so fast, it felt like his skin was going to burst open.
The Snake Cult greataxe was crashing downward towards Athena,
Sensing the danger of Tancred's attack, Athena raised her arms and formed a ⌈Double Mana Ward⌋, two several-inch-thick walls of ice.
Both cracked. Both broke apart.
Tanamar couldn't believe it.
Even his strongest attacks couldn't break her ice barriers...
Had Tancred become that much stronger? No... Tanamar had no issues following his movement.
pαпdα Йᴏνê|,сòМ Did Athena not think Tancred would use his full power? ...But even when he dueled his supposed teammates, he never... ever... ever held back.
...Had Athena had used too much mana, defeating the city's defenders?
Maybe... in her trying so gods-damned hard... the world saw fit to tell her... that she wasn't invincible.
As Tanamar charged, he aimed his weapon at the side of the Divine Armor's chest. It was aimed at his shite brother-- a bastard who wrongly thought he was safe behind so many layers of enchanted Tyrion steel.
Tancred whirled his flaming greataxe above his head, "⌈RAVAGER'S!!! STRIIIIKE!!!!⌋"
Once more, the weapon fell upon Athena.
It struck her four crossed Arcanite blades... but they were scattered by the force.
The huge axeblade struck her in the collar. It cut into her Arcanite armor. The defensive enchantments on it shattered, and with it came a high-pitched whine and a pulse of silvery light.
Her back and helmet slammed into the floor, a deafening CRACK echoing in Tanamar's ears... and creating a web of broken stone beneath her.
"ATHENAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" Tanamar screamed his voice hoarse, plunging his spear into the Divine Armor's chest.
"[⌈Earth Shield.⌋]"
Tanamar's blood ran cold, hearing his brother's Skill activation...
Tancred... was a dual-element caster... just like he was.
A barrier of stone formed in front of the Divine Armor, softening his lance strike.
Tanamar felt the tip of his blade barely scratch the metal. It didn't pierce.
The attack was a failure.
Steeling his will, he roared with fury as he withdrew his weapon for another attack.
"My spear in hand will ⌈PIERCE THE HEAVENS!!!⌋
"[Whoa! Careful now!]"
Tancred hopped back, forming another layer of ⌈Earth Shield⌋, and another behind that. The force of Tanamar's holy lance was harmlessly absorbed by the dirt shield... and shattered into mana-dust.
"[I've always wanted to do this, Athanasius!]" Tancred taunted, "[⌈Earth Dragon Slam!⌋]"
Tanamar's eyes grew wide, realizing he had diverted all of his mana to offense. Too late to cast a ⌈Mana Ward⌋ of his own, he grit his teeth as he took the impact of the greataxe to his side.
His entire body shook. The whole of his torso felt numb. He flew through the air... the first time in a long while, not of his own volition.
He struggled to control the wings of light on his back... but he'd taken too much damage. He crashed into a burnt tree, shattering it and sending wooden splinters everywhere.
The still-smoldering leaves fell on him, enveloping him in smoke and taking away his breath. He crawled out on his elbows and knees like a dying dog, hacking and coughing dirty blood.
He clenched his hand full of ash and dirt... and slammed the ground in anger. This was not the time to show weakness! Everything was on the line!
Ignoring his pain and fatigue, holding desperately onto his anger and indignation, Tanamar willed himself to stand...
The tall suit of armor began slowly stomping towards him, its arms raised to the sides, "[Athanasius, Athanasius... dear brother... Always thinking you're the shite. Not so f*cking tough now, crawling in the Flamescarred dirt where you belong.]"
'Yeah, keep f*cking talking' Tanamar thought.
He cleared his throat and again spat to the side. There was probably blood in it. He didn't look to check.
The longer his shite twin brother talked, the more time he had to condense his mana into another attack.
Steam began to wheeze and whistle from the Divine Armor's shoulders and near its waist. Its chestplate split open from the center, opening like window shutters to reveal Tancred sitting inside, wearing a form-fitting red gambeson.
"How does it feel, Athanasius?" He grinned, "--knowing that I've finally surpassed you."
Tanamar furrowed his brows in thought. His brother's complaints made no Flame-taken sense.
Back when Tancred worked with him at the Vanzano manor, he was the one who made friends with all the other servants. Then when he left for the Caeruleum arenas, he was the face on their posters, a living legend! Seven hells, making the Stormbrand adventuring company was his idea!
It didn't make sense to respond... Tancred could think whatever he wanted. It was all bullshite, but it wouldn't weigh on his conscience.
Tanamar needed to end him. The thought of killing his blood-related brother bothered him even less than hearing the shite coming out of his mouth.
He needed to use his strongest attack. He needed to use Harkus' ⌈Oath⌋ shot...
It was something he never used on humans. It didn't work on them, an illogical rule made by whatever powers governed the Realm.
However... his brother didn't classify as human, anymore. His instincts told him so...
Tancred was just... The Oathbreaker.
As a transmigrator to this strange but similar world, Tanamar carried knowledge coveted by gods and ancients, alike... secrets that took literal decades to unravel. Taking a deep breath, he searched his soul for words he did not know the meaning of... but were forbidden to speak.
He whispered the first.
A circular blast of mana extinguished the smoldering grass and trees around him, flinging dust and debris outward.
He whispered the second.
Light from the sun broke through the black-clouded sky, shining only upon him.
He struggled to remember what he knew... whispering syllable by syllable of praise not uttered in tens of centuries.
Beginning to panic, Tancred hurriedly closed the doors to his armor suit, hiding like a coward in his shell.
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