Vangel noticed that he was planning something, but that didn't stop Aion. Aion's anger boiled over, fueling an explosive surge of energy within him. With a furious determination, he unleashed a torrent of attacks upon the clones by using time magic and summoning his unknown sword, striking them with lightning speed and devastating force. His sword strikes moved like a whirlwind, pummeling his adversaries with relentless blows in their heads and hearts. They didn't have time to react since he killed dozens of them in a single moment.
As the clones dissipated into nothingness, Aion's attention shifted to the real Vangel. Rage and determination burned in his eyes as he channeled all of his remaining energy into a final assault. His every movement was guided by a single purpose: to defeat Vangel once and for all. The bastard was a tough nut to crack, but Aion has been around the block and he knew how to deal with that.
However, despite his speed, Vangel blocked the attack effortlessly… he could be that fast as well. Even though he only had the buff of the lowest level of Force Release, he still could do that much.
As the clones disintegrated into shimmering energy, a strange phenomenon unfolded before Aion's eyes. The ethereal essence of the defeated clones coalesced and converged towards Vangel's sword. The blade, once a mere instrument of destruction, now pulsated with a radiant glow as it absorbed the released energy.
Aion watched in surprise as the sword consumed the remnants of the clones, its power growing with each intake. The swirling energy enveloped the weapon, causing it to shimmer and crackle with newfound strength. It was as if the essence of the defeated clones merged with the very soul of Vangel's weapon, amplifying its potency.
The absorbed energy seemed to infuse Vangel with renewed vigor. His stance became more resolute, his eyes gleaming with an intensified determination. It was evident that the energy absorbed from the fallen clones had bolstered his own power, granting him an even greater source of strength.
"You might end up regretting this… you want to face me directly, so you shall have that," Vangel said and then swung down his sword.
Thrown off balance by Vangel's forceful sword strike, Aion was suddenly propelled backward and plunged into a swirling vortex of distorted space. The world around him twisted and blurred like a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes.
After what felt like an eternity, Aion emerged from the vortex, finding himself standing on top of an enormous iceberg. The icy surface stretched out in all directions, its gleaming white expanse contrasting starkly against the dark sky. The freezing air cut through his clothes, sending a shiver down his spine.
Surrounded by the towering ice formations, Aion felt a deep sense of solitude and vulnerability. The vastness of the frozen landscape accentuated his isolation, and he couldn't help but feel small in the face of such immense beauty and danger.
In the next moment, Aion felt a shiver, and then he teleported away, barely avoiding a sword strike that split the three kilometers wide iceberg in two… that was Vangel's power now.
Vangel landed on the same side of the iceberg that Aion was, with his sword resting lazily on his shoulders. With a large mug on his face, it seemed that losing didn't cross his mind at all.
Vangel's sword was a marvel to behold, far superior to the mysterious sword Aion wielded. The craftsmanship of Vangel's weapon was exquisite, reflecting the countless years he had poured into its creation. The blade shone brilliantly, its edges razor-sharp and polished to a mirror-like sheen. The hilt, adorned with intricate engravings, exuded an air of mystique.
In comparison, Aion's own sword, forged by Arlana, seemed modest and simple. Its design lacked the intricate details and ornate embellishments that adorned Vangel's weapon. However, Aion's sword held a different kind of beauty—a beauty born from the love and dedication that went into its making. It carried the weight of memories, battles fought, and the bond between Aion and Arlana.
Though Vangel's sword appeared more impressive, Aion knew that the true power of a weapon lay not solely in its craftsmanship but in the spirit of the one who wielded it. Aion's determination and unwavering resolve far surpassed the craftsmanship of any sword. He understood that the strength he possessed came from within, forged through hardships and fueled by a burning desire to protect what he held dear.
"Jealous?" Vangel asked.
"No way in hell, this is a gift from a pretty girl; it is way more valuable than yours," Aions shrugged. "Besides, this might come wrong, but it isn't how a blade looks, but it is how it is used."
"Sounds like an excuse for me," Vangel said and then dashed toward Aion.
Aion clicked his tongue since Vangel was holding back his speed; he just used enough to make Aion see and block his attack… Still, its weight pushed Aion backward for several kilometers… Aion hit the frozen once several times before he collided agaisnt another iceberg.
As Aion collided with the massive iceberg, a sharp and agonizing pain surged through his body. The impact was brutal, causing his ribs to crack with a sickening crunch. The pain engulfed him, stealing his breath and making every movement a torment.
Gasping for air, Aion felt the warmth of his own blood trickling from the broken bones. Each breath became a struggle as if shards of ice were stabbing into his chest with every inhale. His body trembled with the strain, and he could feel his strength waning.
Aion barely had time to heal himself when he saw a massive blade of wind flying toward him. He jumped with all his might and avoided the attack, only to see another iceberg being split in half. This time, horizontally.
"I am still trying to understand the logic behind it; it is quite fun to use," Vangel said while looking at his sword. "It is like this? Or more like this?"
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