Battle Of Planets
Chapter 88: Ryuk Vs Mark

Chapter 88: Ryuk Vs Mark

Justin let out an amused scoff, running a hand through his hair. "You think we don’t know who you are, you little shit?"

Ryuk sighed, finally shutting his book with an audible thud. His gaze flickered between them—Justin, the so-called prince of Babylon, a man renowned for his arrogance and cruelty; and the golden-haired guy beside him, who carried himself with an air of authority. A Utopian, most likely.

He looked around first to see if Steve was present. He never felt comfortable with strangers, so most of the time he buried himself in his books.

"Look, I’m not interested in talking," Ryuk said bluntly. "I don’t get along well with strangers. So just leave me alone."

Justin chuckled, his expression twisting into something more sinister. He took a slow step forward, "An arrogant prick, huh? It’s been ages since I’ve met someone who actually needed a good beating."

"What should I do..." Ryuk muttered to himself as his meta-bot blinked in response. "Ah, no way. Steve’s going to lose his mind."

"Get down here," Justin called, his smirk broadening. "Let’s see what you can do. Fight my friend here."

Mark stiffened slightly, realizing what Justin was doing. He had just been thrown into a challenge before even deciding if he wanted one. Justin, of course, had planned this the moment they arrived—pitting him against Ryuk as if they were allies, as though Mark had already agreed to play along.

Before Mark could speak, a voice interrupted him.

"Ah, young master!" Steve rushed toward them, clearly panicked as he attempted to defuse the situation. "Please forgive his lack of manners. He didn’t mean to offend you."

Ryuk sighed and jumped down from the container, landing lightly on his feet. His expression remained unreadable, yet the slight furrow of his brow indicated he wasn’t thrilled about this.

"There you are, Sir Steve," Justin said with mock politeness. "Don’t worry, we’re just having a little fun. We only want to see what your prodigy is capable of."

Mark wanted to protest—this wasn’t the right time or place—but deep down, he couldn’t deny his curiosity. He genuinely wanted to see if Ryuk was really as special as everyone claimed. And Justin knew it.

Steve, visibly sweating, turned to Mark. "Young master, please. This child is reckless. You don’t need to test him yourself."

Mark ignored the warning and pulled off his fitted shirt, revealing his toned, battle-ready frame. "What do you say, Ryuk? Are you up for a spar?"

Ryuk smirked. "Why not? Just make sure you don’t perish in a friendly match."

Steve groaned and smacked Ryuk on the back of the head. "He’s the envoy of Utopia, you idiot! Don’t say anything reckless."

Ryuk rubbed his head. "He challenged me. What was I supposed to say?"

Mark chuckled while Justin, observing the exchange, grinned with amusement. This was sure to be interesting.

Mark reached for the pendant around his neck—a sleek, sword-shaped insignia—and in an instant, his armor unfolded around him. A striking fusion of orange and black metal encased his body, transforming him seamlessly and precisely.

In his hand, a heavy sword materialized. The sword’s surface resembled a saw with razor-sharp teeth, and a small circular hole near the tip allowed for a one-handed grip, perfect for parrying the heavy blows of his enemies with both hands if necessary.

Across from him, Ryuk exhaled slowly, his stance relaxed. Then, without making a single movement, his armor unfolded around him—deep black with elegant gold lining tracing the contours of his helmet and chest.

Mark stiffened. He didn’t even touch his Meta-bot. The transformation was effortless, almost natural, as if the armor had a will of its own. The sheer simplicity of its design made it all the more unsettling—no unnecessary flair, no exaggerations, just a solid, ominous black.

"Is this what they call Prime?" Mark asked, gripping his sword more tightly.

"Nah, I call it Blacky." Ryuk said, his gaze shifting to Justin, who stood frozen in place, his usual confidence wavering. "And you might want to take a step back, Young Master. We wouldn’t want a stray shard to pierce your fragile body accidentally."

Justin flinched at the mockery, his jaw clenching. Without saying a word, he took a few steps back, with Steve following closely behind, his expression tense.

Mark, undeterred by the exchange, raised his sword, his eyes fixed on Ryuk. "Let’s see if you can keep up."

Ryuk was the first to move, launching himself forward with speed, assuming that Mark’s heavy sword would slow him down. To his surprise, however, Mark reacted just as quickly, his blade slicing through the air toward Ryuk’s head.

"Shit—" Mid-air, Ryuk twisted his body, ducking just in time as the shark-toothed blade whizzed past his helmet. But before he could regain his balance, a powerful kick slammed into his elbow.

Ryuk flipped backward, landing a few feet away. "You’re quick."

Mark lowered his blade, his stance unwavering. "Norms don’t affect me, Ryuk." He tightened his grip on the hilt. "Let’s do our best."

With a slow inhale, Mark activated his aura. A brilliant orange flame erupted around his sword, swirling in smooth, controlled arcs. The temperature in the room seemed to rise.

Ryuk’s Meta-bot blinked a warning.

Steve, watching from the sidelines, paled. He’s already using aura? Mark was the youngest known aura user, and he was already drawing out his power this early in the fight.

Meanwhile, Justin’s smirk broadened. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, thoroughly entertained. Yes... that’s it, Mark. Show him the gap. Show him his place. And if you happen to eliminate this so-called genius in the process... even better, he thought to himself.

"Fine."

Ryuk exhaled while pressing his hands together in front of his chest. The circular disk embedded in his chest piece of armor started to spin, humming with energy. As he spread his arms wide, the disk detached from his chestplate and floated into the air.

Mark tensed. What the hell is that?

The disk expanded, growing to the size of a truck tire, hovering effortlessly between them. Mark tightened his grip on the sword. He had never seen anything like it. Was it telekinesis? How was Ryuk controlling the weapon without even touching it?

From the sidelines, Justin’s smirk faded, and his expression darkened. This freak... he really has telekinesis in addition to everything else?

"Ryuk, don’t push yourself too hard," Steve cautioned. "You still haven’t completely mastered your abilities."

He was right. Mark and Ryuk weren’t too far apart on paper—Mark had just advanced to 48 power points, while Ryuk stood at 54. However, raw numbers didn’t tell the whole story.

Mark had genuine battle experience. He had fought, bled, and trained alongside warriors. Ryuk, in contrast, had spent most of his life in secrecy, shielded from Albert and his son’s watchful eyes. He had never needed to break a sweat during training. But now...

Now, he was prepared to step into the light.

"I’ve wanted to face someone like you," Ryuk admitted, his voice calm yet filled with anticipation.

The disk hovered above him, spinning faster and sucking in the air around it as if preparing to swallow the battlefield whole.

Ryuk flicked his two fingers at Mark, and in an instant, the disk shot forward like a black blur.

Sparks erupted as Mark caught the attack with his blade, gripping both ends tightly. The metallic teeth of his sword clashed against the spinning edge of Ryuk’s chakra, with relentless force behind it.

Mark gritted his teeth, feeling himself pushed back inch by inch, his boots scraping against the hard ground.

"What the hell is this?" Mark growled, fighting against the sheer momentum.

"I call it a chakra," Ryuk said, his tone almost amused. "I can control it with my hands... although I’m uncertain how far I can push it yet. But I suppose I’ll figure that out during this fight."

"Great," Mark muttered as he adjusted his grip.

He tilted his sword at an angle with a sharp twist, letting the chakra’s force slide away instead of colliding head-on. The black disk veered to the side, narrowly missing his shoulder as Mark slipped away from its onslaught.

Without wasting a moment, Mark lunged forward, his sword bursting into a brilliant orange flames-like aura. He swung it downwards, targeting Ryuk’s chest directly.

Ryuk’s fingers twitched. The chakra reversed in mid-air, returning to block the strike just before impact. Metal clashed against metal, sending a shockwave rippling outward from the force.

Mark smirked, jumping back a little. "Looks like I’m not the only one adapting mid-fight."

A silent chakra swirled before them, its structure apparent—a menacing mass of tiny, razor-sharp blades—that caused Ryuk’s lips to curl into a satisfied grin.

The whole area fell silent as the two rangers prepared to engage in a fierce battle. Justin and Steve, each lost in their own thoughts and worries about the fight, understood the gravity of the situation. They both knew that the two figures standing before them were no ordinary rangers; they were destined to rise to the top of the food chain in the future. As tension filled the air, a sense of anticipation and uncertainty loomed over the scene. The outcome of this confrontation would undoubtedly shape the course of their destinies.