Dance With Darkness And Light 50 Jian Vs Bazuul

Bazuul and Jian Zheng walked down the balcony and up the stage, then they both stood there silently across from each other. Even though the fight had not officially started, both were already entrenched in a battle of aura, stunning the crowd. A current of air surrounded the platform, with the center of it being the eye of the storm.

"As everyone can clearly see, these two are ready for the battle ahead. Let's not make them wait, FIGHT!" Tyr said. With this, the eerie silence in the arena broke, and fervent roars and warcries filled it. Only to return to silence a minute later, as the expressions of the crowd were either suffused with awe or confusion.

All the crowd could see was two youngsters repeatedly turning into blurs only to clash on and on again. Some of the spectators were only able to witness both their forms at the moment of their clash; others could merely see the sparks of the blades clashing. Yet all were able to feel the wild winds created through each impact once they clashed. Before the crowd could even process the previous attack, another happened somewhere else. It was baffling to the viewers to see youngster this skilled going at it this ferociously.

At this moment, both once more appeared on the stage. Jian Zheng thrust his sword toward Bazuul, and in fact, he was already too close for Bazuul to dodge. Seeing this, Bazuul used his gravitational expulsion to slow down Jian's advance. He then shifted his position into his favor and diverted the trajectory of his opponent's sword. Still, a blast of sharp sword breath whipped forward until it crashed into a corner of the platform, cutting a fist-sized part of it cleanly off.

Jian Zhen stood still for a second, perplexed about what had just happened. "I had him!" he thought, "How did he escape?"

It was this short second of impa.s.siveness that was enough for Bazuul to successfully attack. Though Jian's instincts were sharp, and he dodged to some extent, his arm had still received a rather deep cut. He could see a blood trail following Bazuul's obsidian blade midair from his arm, apparently to no end. Jian reacted quickly and cut off the stream of blood successfully. With this, he was proving his skill in the sword, since only a master-level swordsman was able to cut liquids truly. The cut off trail of blood still followed the sword until it vanished entirely into it. A second later the blade started glowing in an ominous purple light.

Due to this unsettling feeling, Jian determined that he had to unleash everything now and then. He mounted an attack and slashed Bazuul at the shoulder. Bazuul, on the other hand, ignored his injury and wasted no time, also going to the offensive. Both continuously attacked, parried the opponents attack, or dodged the advance completely. Only from time to time did an attack connect.

This went on for a while, and the fight went back and forth. Almost half an hour in, both youngsters had seen better days, their clothes were in tatters, and their bodies largely covered in wounds.

Eventually, under the pressure of Jian's impeccable sword skills, the obsidian sword in Bazuul's hand gave in and broke into several pieces. The sound of it breaking and the shattered pieces landing on the ground filled the arena. The crowd gasped in shock, as everyone now thought the battle had been decided. Jian wasted no time and mounted another attack, Bazuul lifted what remained of the sword in a defensive stance when suddenly the pieces of Bazuul's blade began vibrating. Shortly after, they rose from the ground into the air. The vibration that came out of those pieces was ominous and extremely deep. Deep as in, you could feel its ripples in your organs.

Suspended in the air, the broken pieces hung there, apparently doing nothing. Jian squinted his eyes as if trying to see through what was happening right now. Suddenly the blade broke out into a piercing wail before seemingly all blood the sword had acc.u.mulated gushed out in an explosion.

The explosion drenched the whole of the arena in blood. The spectators, the n.o.bles and representatives of the Seven Kingdoms, even the king, were covered in this sticky crimson liquid. This seeming explosion of blood created such a force that the impact shoved both Jian and Tyr off the platform. Bazuul somehow managed to stay on it, if anything, he even seemed untouched. As not even a droplet of blood was visible on him. What none had been able to realize, was that while everyone had witnessed the impact and involuntarily bathed in blood. Bazuul, at the center of the blast, had actually received the core essence of the blood within his blade. When Tyr climbed up the stage again and saw Bazuul completely fine, he announced him the winner by default.

Although, an event like this could not be simply swept under the carpet. Questions would arise, and answers would be necessary. Due to the incredulous amount of blood, and the intense stench it left in the arena, the last match of the quarterfinals had to be postponed to the next day.

Bazuul wasn't satisfied with this win, and he walked toward the edge of the stage. Seeing Jian already enter the hallway, he called out to him and challenged him to another duel sometime in the future. Feeling similarly unsatisfied Jian agreed with a simple nod.

What none realized then and there, was the demise of a blade as legendary as it once was infamous. Its name was Azar, the Maw of the Fiend, and when the sword broke, somewhere, far away from the Seven Kingdoms, it stirred.

Azar was a blade from a time when humanity was still in its infancy, protected by their deity, who shepherded over them in their homeland, Agatha. Last had it found its use in the great demon invasion over four hundred years ago. Where humanity was nearly wiped out, and their homeland forever lost to the demons. Then already, it was a nameless blade, and just as the loss of its name, was the number of casualties that had fallen prey under its edge.

As everyone left for their respective emba.s.sy, Bazuul had to stay behind and answer some questions due to the incident. The six representatives, among them his uncle Faolan and grand elder Arya stood around him, the king of Donar was also present. Bazuul explained that he barely knew anything about the blade. In fact, he merely picked it up before his trip to this foreign kingdom. Before that, it was apparently collecting dust in their treasury. Even his father, the king, did not have any information about it when he had asked him then. Faolan vouched for that statement, as the blade had been with them even before he had been born.

The authorities were rather unsatisfied with the answers given but had to let him go under Faolan's watchful eye.