Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 109: Final clash (6)

Chapter 109: Final clash (6)

From his vantage point atop the shoulder of the shield giant, Khepri stood like a statue of divinity—unmoving, but all-seeing. Dust still spiraled in the distance where Alex had fallen, the air crackling faintly with the dying remnants of lightning. Yet Khepri’s gaze was already locked on the boy—calculating, silent, unmoved by the destruction around them.

For the first time in this battle...

Alex had not charged back.

That alone said everything.

Until now, the boy had always come back. Every time Khepri struck him down—every time he was hurled through the sky by a stone colossus or sent spiraling by a redirected blow—he returned with more ferocity, more precision, more power. Each return was immediate, like the snap of a whip, a rallying cry of a soul that refused to kneel.

But now?

Alex was still.

There was no rebound. No retaliatory flash of lightning. No sudden blur of movement slicing through the air. Just a figure half-buried in broken earth, limbs trembling, mana flickering faintly around his bruised and battered form.

Khepri narrowed his eyes.

Even from this distance, he could see it. The twitching in the boy’s legs. The way his arms strained just to lift his own weight. The light that once danced violently across his body—the embodiment of Limit Break’s fury—was now reduced to a feeble shimmer, barely enough to light the dust.

The storm had begun to fade.

And Khepri understood immediately:

Alex had finally hit his wall.

The boy was still Grandmaster-rank, for all his talent. All his impossible growth, his monstrous willpower, his precise combat instincts—they had carried him farther than any sane warrior should have gone. He had fought a Legend, tanked blows from weapons carved to split war beasts in half, danced with titans, challenged divine constructs.

But reality had its limits.

Even now, Khepri’s mana continued to regenerate, slowly and ceaselessly, drawn from the leyline-laced battlefield below. The passive recovery of a Legend wasn’t just unfair—it was a wall that no will alone could break.

Even for someone like Alex.

Khepri exhaled slowly, the air leaving his lungs like mist over a volcano. He didn’t gloat. He didn’t revel in it. But there was a sharp pang of disappointment, buried beneath the calm.

The boy had burned brighter than expected.

But every flame must gutter eventually.

Still watching, Khepri made a small gesture with two fingers—a command.

Below, the giants began to move.

Until now, they had only walked—slow, deliberate, inexorable. There had never been a need to rush. Every time Alex fell, he would rise again, attacking even before they reached him. But this time was different.

This time, he didn’t rise.

So the titans began to run.

Each step was a seismic event, shaking the earth. The archer nocked another stone arrow that shimmered with mana. The axe wielder’s weapon dragged through the ground, carving a trench behind him. The greatsword giant’s chest pulsed with earthen light. They converged like a hammer upon an anvil.

Khepri didn’t move.

He remained atop the shield giant’s shoulder, arms behind his back, golden eyes unblinking.

"It’s over," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "Even the strongest resolve bends beneath the weight of truth."

----

Alex’s fingers dug into the dirt, forcing himself upright as the ground quaked beneath him. A deep rumble grew louder—no, closer—with every step. He didn’t have to look up to know what it was.

They were coming.

The greatsword giant’s massive silhouette loomed first, kicking up a wall of dust and broken stone. Behind it, the others advanced—axe, shield, archer. Four titans. And behind them, like the hand moving a set of chess pieces, stood Khepri himself, walking across their shoulders with silent authority.

Alex coughed hard, blood staining his lower lip. The taste of copper filled his mouth. His legs screamed with each motion, his arms trembled violently, and the thunder that had once raged through his veins now felt like dying embers. Even the nano-fiber mesh of his suit buzzed in warning, reacting sluggishly.

"...Move, damn you..." he muttered, staggering backward.

But there was no room left to run.

The axe giant reached him first, cleaving downward with a roar of wind and stone. Alex brought his katana up just in time, the impact forcing him back on instinct, feet sliding across the cracked earth. A second swing came low and fast, aiming for his ribs—he pivoted on a thin platform of lightning just in time, the blade grazing his arm and drawing blood.

The shield wielder was already there. Its entire body dropped like a meteor, using the weight of its bulk to slam forward. Alex gritted his teeth and summoned a barrier of lightning, just strong enough to absorb the edge of the impact—then used the recoil to fling himself upward, narrowly dodging a stone arrow that tore through the air where his head had been.

Another roar.

The greatsword came down again, this time from above. Alex twisted mid-air, channeling every drop of remaining energy into his katana. He angled the blade, guiding the massive weapon to the side—but the force of the impact still sent a jolt of pain down his spine. He spun once, twice, and landed hard, knees buckling.

No time to rest.

Khepri was already there.

He appeared behind Alex like a phantom, his khopesh shimmering with earthlight, the curved blade slicing for Alex’s side. Instinct surged. Alex brought up his arm, lightning exploding around his vambrace. Sparks met sparks—steel against thunder—as he barely blocked the strike, his knees cracking against the stone from the pressure.

Archer.

Another shot.

Alex flung himself aside just as the arrow cratered the ground he had stood on, the shockwave hurling him into the shield wielder’s path again. A giant arm lifted to crush him. He raised his blade—

Clang!

Stone met steel, and his feet buried into the earth from the impact. He groaned aloud, barely holding the weapon in his hands now. Each movement burned. His chest rose and fell like a dying forge. He wasn’t winning. He was surviving.

But his eyes—they hadn’t dimmed.

Alex’s stance was broken, his mana nearly gone, Limit Break trying to destroy him—but his grip never loosened.

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