OP Absorption
Chapter 96: Brute

Chapter 96: Brute

Fin groaned, pushing himself up from the wreckage of shattered branches and torn-up moss. His body screamed at him—ribs cracked, ankle sliced, blood trickling from half a dozen cuts. The green aura flickered weakly around him, struggling to knit flesh and bone back together. Too slow.

Dan’s heavy footsteps crunched through the undergrowth, deliberate, unhurried. Like he already knew how this ended.

’Damn it.’ he spat blood, watching the crimson splatter against the roots. ’This guy’s no joke.’

He thought the green core would be enough. Basic, sure, but solid. Stable. He was wrong.

Dan emerged from the trees, armor gleaming despite the dents, that monstrous sword resting casually on his shoulder. His expression was pure disdain.

"Still breathing? I’ll fix that."

Fin exhaled, long and slow. Then he reached deeper.

The green aura snuffed out.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing. Just the ache of his wounds, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Then—

Silver.

It erupted from his 2nd core, swirling with remnants of green, twisting together like twin serpents. The power hit him like a lightning strike, surging through veins, muscles, bone. His injuries burned as they sealed—not the gentle warmth of green healing, but something sharper, fiercer.

Dan paused mid-step, helmet tilting slightly. "Hmph. Another trick?"

He didn’t answer. He flexed his fingers, watching silver-green energy crackle around them. The air hummed, charged, oppressive.

’Better.’

He moved.

No warning, no dramatic leap—just acceleration. One moment he was standing there, the next he was in Dan’s face, fist already mid-swing.

Dan barely got his sword up in time.

The impact rang out like a cathedral bell, silver-green energy flaring against golden runes. Dan skidded back, boots carving trenches in the moss. His eyes—visible behind the helmet’s slit—widened.

Fin didn’t let up.

He pressed forward, fists a blur, each strike carrying the weight of a freight train. Dan blocked, parried, but the sheer force drove him back, step by step. The sword’s runes flared brighter with each hit, straining under the onslaught.

’No fancy slashes this time, huh?’ Fin thought, teeth bared in something too sharp to be a grin. ’Too busy playing defense.’

He feinted left, then drove his knee up into Dan’s gut. The armor held, but the man grunted, breath hitching. Fin followed with an elbow to the side of his helmet—

Dan vanished.

Not speed. Not a dodge. One second he was there, the next he was ten feet away, sword raised. The runes blazed gold.

Fin barely had time to think ’Oh crap’ before the air split.

A slash—no, a tear—ripped through space itself, hurtling toward him. He twisted, but not fast enough. His aura flared defensively as the attack grazed his side, shearing through cloth and skin alike.

Blood sprayed.

He hissed, clapping a hand to the wound. The energy stitched it shut almost instantly, but the pain lingered.

Dan lowered his sword. "You’re faster. Stronger. But you still don’t understand true power."

Fin wiped blood from his mouth. "Enlighten me."

Dan’s sword moved.

Fin braced—

Nothing hit him.

Instead, the ground beneath him erupted. Not an explosion, but a rending, as if reality itself had been sliced apart. He barely leaped clear as the earth split open, a yawning chasm where he’d stood.

’Okay. That’s new.’

Dan wasn’t just swinging a sword. He was cutting the world.

Fin landed lightly, aura coiling around his legs. Time to stop playing fair.

He lunged again, but this time, he didn’t aim for Dan. He aimed for the sword.

Dan saw it coming. He smirked, twisting the blade to meet Fin’s strike head-on.

Fin’s fist connected—

And his fingers closed around the sword’s edge.

Not to block. Not to push.

To absorb.

Dan’s smirk died as the runes flickered. The sword’s golden light dimmed, energy draining, siphoned away into Fin’s palm.

’Tastes like arrogance,’ he thought, grinning as the power flooded his system. ’And it’s delicious.’

Dan snarled, yanking the blade back—but it was slower now, heavier. The runes were dark.

Fin didn’t give him time to recover. He stepped in, aura blazing, and drove his fist straight into Dan’s chest.

The armor held.

The man behind it didn’t.

The impact lifted him off his feet, sending him crashing through trees, tumbling across the moss like a discarded toy. He finally skidded to a stop at the base of an oak, armor screeching against bark.

Silence.

Then—

A cough. Dan pushed himself up, one gauntleted hand pressed to his chest. His breathing was ragged, his movements sluggish. For the first time, he looked... human.

Fin cracked his neck. "Round two’s going my way."

Dan’s grip tightened on his sword. The runes flickered weakly, trying to reignite. "You... absorb energy."

"Bingo."

A beat. Then Dan laughed—a rough, grating sound. "Clever." He straightened, rolling his shoulders. "But you’ve made a mistake."

Fin raised an eyebrow.

Dan’s free hand went to his helmet. With a sharp twist, he unlatched it, pulling it free. His face was weathered, scarred, his eyes burning with something beyond rage.

Respect.

"You assumed," he said, tossing the helmet aside, "that my power comes from the sword."

The runes on his armor flared to life—not gold.

Crimson.

The air twisted, warping around him like a heat haze. The ground trembled. Somewhere deep in the forest, birds—real or illusion, who knew—took flight in a panic.

Fin’s grin faded. ’Oh. Shit.’

Dan smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. "Let me show you what a true Commander can do."

The last word hadn’t even faded before he moved.

No sword. No tricks.

Just speed.

Fin barely registered the fist before it connected with his jaw.

The world went white.

White light faded to throbbing agony. He tasted blood again, thick and coppery. His jaw felt dislocated, maybe broken. Maybe talking smack wasn’t the smartest move.

The ground rushed up to meet him as he tumbled backward from the sheer force of the blow. He skidded across the ground, every impact sending fresh jolts of pain through his already battered body.

Dan didn’t wait. He was a crimson comet, crossing the distance before Fin could even push himself up. Another fist, wreathed in that furious red energy, slammed down like a meteor.

Fin threw himself sideways, rolling desperately. The punch missed him by inches, cratering the earth where his head had been, sending shockwaves vibrating through the ground. Dirt and shattered moss rained down.

Fast. Too fast. His aura flared around him, trying to keep up, trying to mend the fresh damage even as more was inflicted. He scrambled back, putting distance between them, eyes wide, tracking Dan’s every move.

The guy wasn’t using technique anymore; it was just overwhelming force and speed, amplified by that insane crimson power pouring off the armor.

"Run, little King?" Dan mocked, stalking forward, his aura making the air shimmer around him. "Where will you hide in your own fragile domain?"