Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 112: Final Clash (9)

Chapter 112: Final Clash (9)

Alex’s form coalesced from the storm in a heartbeat. Before Khepri or the last colossus could react, Alex’s blade flared with living lightning.

He struck with explosive precision—feet planted, body coiled, katana drawn in one seamless arc. A thunder-infused slash cut through the giant like a scythe through grain: a brilliant gold semicircle that severed the colossus at its center. In the fraction of a breath, the two halves teetered, then collapsed in a cascade of dust and sparks, tumbling into the abyss below.

Alex barely hesitated. He pivoted on razor-sharp reflexes, eyes calm and electric, and fixed his gaze on Khepri, who stood atop the greatsword giant.

From that lofty perch, Khepri witnessed the impossible: one moment Alex stood opposite him, the next he’d appeared at the giant’s flank so swiftly the world seemed to stutter. A chill dread seeped through him—this boy moved with the speed of thunder itself, a blur beyond tracking.

Their eyes locked across the ruin-strewn field, every second pregnant with the promise of their final clash.

—

Khepri’s chest heaved as the shattered cores of his fallen titans drifted back toward him. His gift of life meant every core law returned to his command—but even that boon felt feeble now. As he knew that even if he used his present mana to bring them back, they wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

He studied Alex, gold lightning dancing across the boy’s frame, and knew he lacked the time—and perhaps the power—to capture or subdue him.

Instinctively, he looked down at his last remaining giant. If he could fuse it anew, perhaps it would stand against Alex’s onslaught. In less time than a heartbeat, he wove his Law of Life, drawing the four dormant Core Laws from the ruined giants and pouring them into the fragile heart of the greatsword behemoth. Brownish mana spiraled at its feet, crackling as stone buckled and reformed in uneven waves.

Alex moved. He had sensed the surge in the giant’s aura—an unsteady heartbeat of rebirth—and lunged, lightning arcing along every muscle.

Khepri braced himself. Khopesh and shield in hand, he planted his feet on the giant’s broad shoulder, and while also using his mana to stabilize the cores. The swirling mana convulsed; boulders ground together into sinew and rock, the pattern trembling like a half-drawn tapestry.

Alex closed the gap in a blur. His katana, streaking with residual storm energy, drove straight at the newly forged knee joint. Khepri slammed his shield into the attack just as he leapt down—the two forces colliding in a thunderous shockwave that rattled the giant’s frame and sent fragments of stone raining around them.

Locked in that charged moment, Khepri funneled every ounce of will into steadying the core even as he met Alex’s unwavering, storm-lit stare.

Alex surged forward, his form a living pulse of lightning. In less than a dozen blurred steps, he unleashed a flurry of strikes so fast that even Khepri’s honed reflexes strained to follow.

The second slash scored Khepri’s shoulder, crimson blooming through the carved runes on his cuirass. He planted his shield just in time to parry the second cut—steel rang against steel—only to feel a tremor as his khopesh’s edge nicked his thigh. He countered with a bracing step, but the third strike raked across his forearm, shattering bone beneath the gauntlet. And before he could recover, the fourth blow came, carving a line across his chest that tore the fabric of his armour.

Each clash drove him backward below the greatsword giant. Yet Khepri did not yield. He continued to channel his mana, pouring every fragment of mana into steadiness—even as his blood mingled with storm-charged dust.

Alex paused mid-storm, breathing ragged but eyes alight with purpose. As he looked at the massive form of the giant, where once a single building-sized titan had stood, now a colossus five times taller towered above them, its girth swollen by the fused Core Laws, its every joint humming with raw, unfinished power. Alex looked like an ant at its base—yet defiance blazed in his gaze.

Khepri seized the moment. With a swift leap, he vaulted from the giant’s shoulder and landed atop its broad, rocky crown. He stood tall, shield at the ready, khopesh pointed down at the boy. His-slicked hair plastered to his brow, he surveyed Alex’s battered form and let a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.

"I should thank you for pushing me this far," he called, voice echoing like distant thunder. "Because of you, I’ve forged a marvel beyond even my expectations. Now it’s time you learned your place, boy."

Alex said nothing. He straightened, his hand tightened around the katana, and he raised it aloft. Lightning danced along its length, feeding on his gathered mana.

Khepri’s eyes flickered with wary pride. He raised one gauntleted hand and commanded the giant to finish the battle. The giant’s stony form quivered as its core along its chest ignited in a dull glow.

But before a single creaking step could form, Alex’s voice rang out—low, precise:

"Thunder Control, Katana Form—Fifth Art: Storm Rend."

In that instant, reality itself seemed to crack. The blade erupted with a hurricane of electric force, shredding the air in a jagged arc. The world bent to the strike, as if the barrier between sky and earth had been cleft in two.

The giant’s crown shattered under the onslaught. A column of flickering lightning cleaved downward from the blade’s tip, carving a path straight through its colossal body, from the top of its head, slicing cleanly down the center, to the depths of its rocky base. Stone and mana exploded outward in twin plumes of dust and crackling energy as the titan split neatly in half.

Silence descended, broken only by the distant drip of runoff rain. Two monolithic halves swayed for a heartbeat, then tipped and collapsed in slow motion, sending a shockwave that cracked the ground for leagues.

Alex stood firm, chest heaving, katana humming with spent power. Across the ruin-strewn field, Khepri, who had barely survived the strike, stared in stunned reverence—his masterpiece undone just like that.

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