Realm Lord
Chapter 159: Aziel vs Grey (2)

Chapter 159: Aziel vs Grey (2)

The transformation in Aziel’s fighting style was remarkable to witness. Arthur found himself leaning forward unconsciously, his previous despair giving way to cautious hope. The wild, desperate attacks of the fight’s opening had crystallized into something far more dangerous—calculated aggression backed by rapidly evolving tactical awareness.

Aziel’s spear moved in controlled arcs now, each thrust and parry designed not just to attack but to position his growing network of electrical energy. Lightning crackled between his movements in deliberate patterns, creating zones of interference that forced Grey to approach from increasingly limited angles. The Pathfinder’s casual dominance was being challenged by pure adaptability, and Arthur could see the shift in Grey’s posture as he began to take his opponent more seriously.

"You’re thinking now," Grey observed, deflecting a particularly clever feint that had nearly opened his guard. "Good. Mindless aggression is boring." He reached for another penny, but this time Aziel was ready for it.

The moment Grey’s hand moved toward his pocket, Aziel released a concentrated burst of lightning that arced directly toward the Pathfinder’s position. Grey was forced to abort his throw and dodge sideways, the electrical discharge close enough to make his hair stand on end. For the first time in the fight, he had been forced to react to Aziel’s initiative rather than the other way around.

Arthur’s breath caught as he realized what his friend was doing. Aziel wasn’t just adapting to Grey’s attacks—he was studying them, cataloging the Pathfinder’s preferences and reactions, building a tactical database in real-time. Every exchange was teaching him something new about how Grey moved, how he thought, how he preferred to attack.

The lightning network around Aziel grew more sophisticated with each passing moment. What had started as random electrical discharge was becoming something approaching elemental mastery. Tendrils of controlled lightning stretched across the platform, creating tripwires and barriers that limited Grey’s movement options while providing Aziel with tactical advantages he could exploit.

Grey’s next penny throw was met with a precisely timed lightning bolt that detonated the coin prematurely, the explosion occurring well short of its intended target. The Pathfinder’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise as Aziel pressed forward through the dissipating smoke, his spear leading in a thrust that forced Grey into his first truly defensive maneuver of the entire fight.

"Impressive adaptation," Grey admitted, catching the spear shaft with his bare hand. Lightning coursed through the weapon directly into his body, but he seemed to absorb the electrical energy without ill effect. "But you’re still thinking too small."

The Pathfinder’s counter-attack came with renewed intensity, but now Aziel was ready for it. Instead of trying to match Grey’s superior strength, he used his opponent’s momentum against him, redirecting attacks while simultaneously channeling lightning through every point of contact. The result was a violent dance of electricity and motion that forced both fighters to constantly adapt and counter-adapt.

Arthur watched with growing amazement as the fight developed into something approaching an equal exchange. Aziel’s hits were still doing minimal damage compared to Grey’s devastating strikes, but he was landing them more frequently now, his lightning finding gaps in the Pathfinder’s defense through sheer persistence and creativity.

The crowd around them had fallen into an entranced silence, recognizing that they were witnessing something extraordinary. This wasn’t just a fight between a Chosen and a Pathfinder—it was a masterclass in tactical evolution under pressure. Aziel was demonstrating the kind of adaptability that separated truly exceptional fighters from merely talented ones.

Grey’s attacks were becoming more complex as well, forced to evolve in response to Aziel’s growing defensive sophistication. His penny throws now came in coordinated volleys, creating overlapping blast patterns that were designed to eliminate multiple escape routes simultaneously. But Aziel was learning to read these patterns, using his lightning network to create safe corridors through the explosions.

The platform beneath them had become a scarred battlefield, its surface pitted with craters and electrical burns that told the story of their evolving conflict. Smoke hung in the air from multiple explosions, creating an atmosphere that felt charged with more than just residual electricity. The very air seemed to thrum with the potential energy of their clash.

For the first time since the fight began, Grey was breathing hard. Not from exhaustion—Arthur doubted the Pathfinder had even approached his limits—but from the concentration required to maintain his advantage against an opponent who was evolving faster than should have been possible. Aziel’s rapid adaptation was forcing him to work harder than he had anticipated.

"You’re better than I expected," Grey acknowledged, dodging a lightning bolt that came uncomfortably close to his face. "Most Chosen rely too heavily on raw power. You’re actually using your brain."

Aziel’s response was to demonstrate exactly what Grey meant. Instead of launching another direct attack, he began weaving lightning through the air in complex patterns, creating what appeared to be a three-dimensional web of electrical energy. The display looked almost artistic in its complexity, but Arthur recognized the tactical implications immediately.

The lightning web wasn’t just for show—it was a trap. Every strand was positioned to channel electrical energy in specific directions, creating zones where Grey would be vulnerable to devastating attacks. The Pathfinder studied the pattern with obvious interest, his expression shifting from casual amusement to genuine consideration.

"Clever," Grey murmured, testing one of the lightning strands with a thrown penny. The explosion triggered a cascade effect that sent electrical energy racing through multiple pathways, creating a brief but spectacular light show. "Very clever indeed."

But instead of being deterred by the trap, Grey did something unexpected. He smiled—not the mocking expression he had worn throughout most of the fight, but something approaching genuine enjoyment. For the first time, Arthur realized, the Pathfinder was actually having fun.

"My turn," Grey announced, and everything changed.

The Pathfinder reached into his jacket and withdrew not another penny, but something that made Arthur’s blood run cold. It was a knife—not particularly large or intimidating in appearance, but there was something about the way Grey held it that spoke of lethal expertise. The casual confidence that had characterized his earlier attacks was replaced by focused precision that made the air itself seem dangerous.

Aziel’s lightning web, which had seemed so sophisticated moments before, was dismantled with surgical efficiency. Grey moved through the electrical barriers like they weren’t there, his knife deflecting lightning bolts with impossible precision while he closed the distance between them. Each movement was economical and purposeful, wasting no energy on unnecessary flourishes.

Arthur’s heart sank as he watched his friend’s carefully constructed advantages evaporate under Grey’s renewed assault. The Pathfinder wasn’t just faster with the knife—he was operating on an entirely different level. Every cut and thrust was designed to collapse Aziel’s defensive options while creating openings for follow-up attacks.

The spear, which had served Aziel so well throughout the fight, suddenly seemed clumsy and unwieldy against Grey’s blade work. The knife moved in patterns that seemed to bend physics, creating angles of attack that shouldn’t have been possible while simultaneously defending against Aziel’s increasingly desperate counter-attacks.

Lightning still crackled around Aziel’s form, but it was becoming erratic again, responding to his growing desperation rather than tactical calculation. The careful control he had developed over the course of the fight was beginning to break down under the pressure of Grey’s escalated assault.

"This is what separates Pathfinders from everyone else," Grey explained almost conversationally, his knife work never slowing as he spoke. "It’s not just about power—it’s about knowing when and how to use it. You’ve been impressive, but you’re still thinking like a Chosen."

The knife found its mark with devastating precision, sliding past Aziel’s guard to open a shallow cut along his ribs. The wound wasn’t immediately dangerous, but it served notice that Grey could have ended the fight at any moment he chose. Arthur watched in growing horror as his friend realized the same thing.

Aziel’s movements became more desperate, his attacks taking on the wild, unfocused character that had marked the beginning of their fight. The tactical sophistication he had developed was crumbling under the psychological pressure of facing such an opponent.

But even as Arthur watched his friend begin to falter, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in what Aziel had accomplished. For a brief, shining moment, he had fought a Pathfinder as an equal. He had forced Grey to take him seriously, to elevate his own game in response to the challenge. That was more than most people ever achieved against someone of Grey’s caliber.

The fight’s conclusion seemed inevitable now, but Arthur found himself hoping that Grey would end it quickly and cleanly. Aziel had earned that much respect through his performance. He had proven himself to be more than just another talented Chosen—he had demonstrated the kind of adaptability and tactical intelligence that marked truly exceptional fighters.

Grey’s knife work continued with mechanical precision, each cut serving to further limit Aziel’s options while avoiding any strikes that would cause permanent damage. It was a masterful display of controlled violence, designed to demonstrate superiority without unnecessary cruelty.

As Arthur watched the final moments of his friend’s stand, he felt a complex mixture of emotions. Pride in Aziel’s performance, fear for his safety, and a growing understanding of just how vast the gap between Chosen and Pathfinder truly was. This fight had been educational in ways he hadn’t expected.

But as Grey’s knife moved in for what appeared to be the finishing strike, Arthur held his breath, hoping against hope that his friend’s remarkable journey of adaptation wasn’t quite over yet.