Chapter 480 Confrontation (1)
Alexia ignored Erik's warning and turned around to shoot a mana arrow at one of the soldiers, who blocked it with his sword and then cut it in half with his blade.
There was an eerie silence as the two opposing forces fought each other in the forest. The elite Frantian soldiers moved as one, their resolve conveyed clearly by the expressions on their faces. They were all highly skilled warriors whose intimidating presence reflected their prowess and years of experience.
The Frantian soldiers gave a guttural battle cry as they charged forward, their weapons shining brightly in the dim light of winter. The group Erik was leading sprang into action, with each member deftly shifting into a different role in the fight.
Garrett led the initial assault on the opponents. His Aclaitrium longsword made a buzzing sound in the breeze, and the sharp radiance of its edge shone brightly. Each blow was like a deadly gust of wind, a raging storm that had been honed to a razor's edge.
The ordinarily tranquil setting was suddenly transformed into a frenetic battleground by the roar of gunfire and the sound of metal on metal.
Captain Alvar led the charge, his sword pulsing with mana. Each attack was accompanied by a weird vibration, which disoriented Garrett and forced him to adjust his rhythm. It was a strange feeling; the sound was akin to a swarm of hornets clashing and flying.
Lieutenant Yoric dashed toward Alexia, sending sonic pulses to jolt her senses. Erik struggled to control the vegetation due to his dwindling mana. His connection to the plants wavered, but he pushed through the turmoil, manipulating the flora he had at his disposal to assist her in fleeing the chasing assailant. Roots snaked out, attempting to trap Yoric, but the deft lieutenant evaded them with uncanny grace.
Sergeant Ilsa, instead, was a phantom, leaving trails of confusion in her wake. Marcus tried to track her movements, his shield raised in defense, but Ilsa had the upper hand due to the illusions. She struck like a viper, her blade slicing through Marcus' shield, looking for a weakness in his defense.
Erik noticed Alexia struggling to find a clear shot; the phantom-like movements of Yoric and the sonic disruptions from his brain crystal power were throwing her off target. The young man tried to help her but couldn't do much with his mana.
Marcus stood firm, his mana shield raised to deflect the woman's attacks and his Axe drawn. His job was to protect, which he did admirably by occasionally erecting a dome to protect Garrett from enemy attacks.
He then charged toward the woman, his Axe raised, but she was too quick for him, avoiding the charge and attempting to plunge her blade into his stomach. Only his quick thinking saved the man.
Erik's mana was running low, but he summoned all his remaining strength, focusing his plant manipulation powers on the ground beneath Yoric's feet. Vines sprouted from the ground, twisting and writhing like serpents in an attempt to entangle the agile lieutenant.
Yoric, who was skilled in combat and quick on his feet, attempted to avoid the onslaught. His sword sliced through the animated vegetation as he darted, leaped, and rolled. Despite this, two more seemed to sprout for every vine he cut. However, the young man's mana vanished at that moment. He couldn't use anything right now.
He could face the man in melee thanks to his many neural links, but doing so would expose him, as his only weapon was the Flyssa. Because he was pretty well-known within New Alexandria due to his awakener status, it was apparent the man would recognize him if he went close and used the sword. Erik had a better chance of not being recognized if he stayed away.
Yoric lunged toward Erik, hoping to exploit the young man's tiredness. But as he charged forward, a hail of mana arrows pierced the air, halting his progress. Alexia's unerring aim turned the battlefield into a tornado of flying death. Each arrow forced Yoric back as he defended Erik from the lieutenant's attack.
***
At the same time, Garrett's encounter with Alvar was a swordsmanship contest, a high-stakes dance between two skilled fighters. With his training, Alvar was an expert with his weapon, far superior to Garrett.
The fight started with a flurry of slashes and parries. Garrett's wind-charged blade whistled through the air, attempting to pierce Alvar's defenses. Nonetheless, the Frantian soldier stood firm, his sword deflecting each of Garrett's aggressive strikes with the measured precision that only an expert could have. The clashing of their swords echoed through the forest like a symphony.
Alvar was as solid as a mountain; his weapon was a raging river that rushed to meet every strike. His movements were fluid, with each parry flowing into the next.
Garrett's attacks seemed to crash like waves against the cliffside, mighty but ultimately futile against his opponent's unyielding defensive stance.
The ebb and flow of the battle began to change, and the rhythmic clashing of swords began to morph as each combatant adapted to Garrett made a tactical adjustment, moving away from an offensively-focused approach and toward a more balanced one.
The ebb and flow of the battle began to change, and the rhythmic clashing of swords began to morph as each combatant adapted to the fighting style of the other.
The wind-infused blade wielded by Garrett morphed into that of a darting viper, striking swiftly before retreating and continually searching for a weakness in Alvar's defense.
As a result of being forced to adapt, Alvar's fluid parries eventually developed into razor-sharp counterattacks.
Even though the man knew that the Liberty Watch villager lacked training and resources, he found himself in front of a natural talent. Garrett's Aclaitrium Longsword proved to be a rather good weapon.
"Where did you get that?" Alvar asked.
"It was a gift from one of you pigs!" Garrett retorted.
Alvar stepped up his game, but it was difficult to anticipate Garrett's quick strikes even with his training, and the fact that the wind mana enhanced the blade's sharpness turned every near-miss into a potentially fatal blow.
In this complicated dance, the two were basically on equal footing, their lives hanging precariously by a thread. Every blow, counter-blow, and near-miss was aimed at putting an end to the other fighter's life.
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