Searching For Andromeda 88 The Dungeon Conqueror

The fire vessel narrowed his gaze.

"Do you think . . . everything is according to fate?" A sword made of fire then blazed aflame to the hand of Nar whilst he had articulated these words. Even his voice sounded like Ephraim. 

Ephraim did not answer Nar's question as he ran to attack the deity with his blade. Nar parried his attacks effortlessly. The fire vessel wasn't looking for a mere second. 'An opening!' Ephraim thought, swinging his blade straight to the Vessel. But before his weapon could even pa.s.s through Nar, a fire blade parried shortly in a matter of trices.

'He's fast!' Ephraim thought as he jumped to back away.

Nar flashed a smile at Ephraim, the same curve of the lip and the prudent gaze; even their smiles were the same. A direct copy!

The dragon stared at Ephraim and Nar fighting (mostly it was Ephraim who was brandishing his sword). Of course, they were the same—appearance-wise. Except that Nar was better tenfold in terms of skill and power. Nar was, after all, a deity who acc.u.mulates the pa.s.sion in one's heart to make him even more powerful. 

The guardian watched how Ephraim panted upon fighting the deity whilst Nar, on the other hand, was with no difficulty, eluded Ephraim's attacks without even moving a single step from his spot. He was still smiling, watching the young man attack inexperienced fluctuations.

The deity Nar was one of the oldest created by Wahid. Like any other deity, Nar is already powerful on his own. But if a conqueror with a similarly fiery heart comes to claim him, he gets even fiercer. This is why the guardian made sure to have hearts filled with throes of burning fort.i.tude to be the only ones to be able to claim this certain vessel—

The guardian stared at Ephraim.

—Even if how much inexperienced they are.

"Haah!" Ephraim advanced to attack in full power.

"A mistake." Thought by the guardian and said by Nar himself the same time. Nar was able to dodge Ephraim's advancement by simply rotating. He then attempted to slash his blazing sword to the fabled conqueror, who barely avoided the attack, making him roll to the floor.

"This is fun, but it's getting boring." Said Nar, stopping Ephraim to his tracks. Ephraim took this time to catch his breath, looking for an opening. At this rate, he will only deplete what's left of his energy.

"No adventurer came close to claiming me," Nar said with a smile. Ephraim tightened his grip around his sword. They look too similar. It was like looking at the mirror which was set aflame.

"You have a heart filled with unshed potential," Nar said, pointing the sword to Ephraim whilst drawing his left leg back. He then bent his other hand; propelling forward the other with the sword. The posture Nar had created looked distinctive, like a battle style. Ephraim held his weapon with both of his hands. He's clearly got the disadvantage. He knew no combat posture or even a battle experience. He wasn't like Berthold who (he overheard) can do martial arts. He wasn't like Hiroaki who's a former sergeant. He was just Ephraim, the guy who likes to search relics!

But there's no time being a wimp. He had to fight. He had to save Samuel. For Yael and the others. And above all: they have to get out of here. 

Ephraim copied Nar's posture as he narrowed his gaze. If he can't do one, he just had to copy, like how this deity mimicked his face!

There are just too many reasons to win, which is why Ephraim enc.u.mbered once more to Nar, who then grinned at him, and then in the blink of an eye, they began to clash their weapons: one fiery blade and one with nothing but dried blood. 

"Tch . . . !" Ephraim breathed heavily as he pushed his sword forward to Nar, whose flames grew stronger and stronger. 

"Too slow. Too rash. Unskilled!" Nar a.s.serted, and in one swing, Ephraim tumbled three meters away to the terrain. He was able to rise back up again, but then he felt his broken rib stinging once more. This made him place his other hand to his rib and the other hand to the blade. It was too inconvenient, considering he wasn't that skilled handling a blade in one hand as he tends to lose control over it.

Ephraim cursed under his breath.

Earlier, the rush of adrenaline abled him to keep going—to be strong enough to help Yael and the others, but ever since his muscles relaxed, the pain only resurfaced just to sink back again even stronger. Every labored breath Ephraim took was impaired. The exhaustion from the earthquake, laboratory monsters, and the dungeon were taking their toll. This was too much for someone with no battle experience.

"Where are you looking, Ephraim Hughes?!" In a matter of seconds that Ephraim spent thinking, Nar was able to fly mid-air and is in front of Ephraim, grinning as he peered below.

Nar slashed his fiery blade to Ephraim who had tumbled to the ground and as an attempt to defend himself, Ephraim tried to block the weapon made by fire impending to slash the Archaeologist to half. Ephraim held the sharp blade of his sword with his other hand as a support, and his other hand to its handle. It was a last attempt to help him deflect the blazing blade of Nar which grew fiercer at every pa.s.sing second. Blood from his own fingers dripped down to his face.

The appearance of the deity was transforming not to be Ephraim now, but an ent.i.ty that existed beyond one's comprehensive understanding. It had the face of a flaming monster growing mightier and stronger. It grew ten times larger than Ephraim; it had no physical body, only a growing fire with the face of a horrendous creature that looked divine, powerful, and intimidating. Its sword grew larger and larger until the fire spread through the very grip of Ephraim's sword.

Ephraim gritted his teeth, feeling the scorching flame burning his fingers.

"There's no way . . . I would . . . lose!"

Ephraim let out a battle cry and ignored the sting in his rib and the pain enveloping his system. His weapon was starting to melt by the fire, but right now—right now he had to win. He had to defeat this deity no matter how impossible it looks. No matter how little his chance maybe.

Ephraim submerged his body through the fire as he pierced his blade straight through the scintillating sword and then to the deity itself.

"Even if I burn—or even if I get ugly scars or die," Ephraim said through the agonizing pain as the fire slowly grew more rampant. "I'd still have to win!"

That's right. He has to win. For Yael. For Sam. For his task force. 

"I will be . . . the dungeon conqueror!!!"