Jarica attacks from the right, rotating her two-handed axe from high to low.
Franz Dadref strikes from the left with a thrust of his sword.
Without blinking, Fierro blocks the axe's blow with his left sword, and simultaneously counters the blond's attack with his right blade.
The block of both attacks is so strong that the two are repelled.
Rero sees the central opening and exploits it, attempting to pierce her brother's stomach with her sword.
With superhuman speed, Fierro kicks Rero's blade, pushing it backward. In the blink of an eye, Fierro drops his two swords to the ground and brings both arms behind his back. He draws the greatsword he carries in the sheath behind him.
*SLASH*
Like lightning, he makes a diagonal slash with the greatsword, catching Rero still exposed from the repulsion.
"Aaarghh!"
Rero screams as her chest armor, which protected her, is torn in two.
From the tear, blood copiously flows.
The diagonal wound starts at the left shoulder and goes down passing between the two tits and arriving at the right hip.
The wound is deep, but not lethal. Did he go easy on her?
Rero asks herself, as she brings her left hand to her chest.
A tear falls from her brother's eye as the magical tattoo on his neck flickers, indicating rebellion against the queen's will.
"Fierro..." Rero gasps, clutching her wound while she stares at the tattoo on his neck. "What... what are you doing? You should have killed me... Taken advantage of my mistake."
Fierro's face is a mask of regret, but he doesn't respond.
Instead, he charges at Jarica, who has to dodge the arc of the greatsword, narrowly avoiding it.
Franz seizes this opportunity.
The blonde attempts a thrust while the Servant is occupied with Jarica.
With a twirl, the swordsman intercepts Franz's blade with his enormous greatsword and, with another spin, delivers a high kick to the blonde's face. The violent kick sends Franz crashing to the ground in pain.
Rero struggles to recover from the blow, wincing in pain as she watches her companions fight for their lives.
Without a second thought, she gulps down a healing potion provided by Strauss.
Her brother's skill is unmatched, and she recognizes the weapon he is using.
The greatsword he wields is the Sansanti family's masterpiece, a magical weapon named 'Clarissa'.
She isn't dead only because Fierro hesitated. The woman clenches her fists.
Although it's an advantage, she cannot accept this favoritism. Not in this fateful encounter.
She is determined to give it her all. She takes a special doping potion prepared by Strauss.
It will boost her stats for a few minutes, but then she will face severe drawbacks. It's the same one her Master uses.
She doesn't care; if she wants to win this fight, she must give her maximum, even at the risk of dying.
Rero gulps down the doping potion in one go.
Almost immediately, she feels a surge of energy coursing through her veins. The effect is swift.
There's no time to waste.
The woman wants to show the fruits of her relentless training since her brother disappeared.
[RAZOR EDGE]
This spell imbues a blade with a supernatural sharpness that goes beyond its physical edge.
Upon casting, the blade gains an additional ethereal cutting layer, making it capable of slicing with remarkable precision and ease.
Its enhanced edge can more effectively cut through harder materials and leaves a faint luminous trail as the blade moves through the air. The spell doesn't alter the physical appearance of the blade but adds a barely perceptible shimmer along its edge, indicating its increased cutting power.
The clash of weapons echoes across the open space at the foot of the great temple.
Franz and Jarica barely manage to withstand the violent blows of the Servant.
The protection they wear shows the fury of their opponent through chips and cracks in the metal.
Rero looks at her brother, Fierro, whose expression is ruthless.
She can tell from his movements that the man's next strikes will be lethal.
Franz, unaware of this, charges at the Servant.
The blonde's attack is fierce but full of openings. Fierro smirks at the opportunity.
With nonchalance, he deflects the thrust, holding the greatsword with only his left hand while with his right foot he skillfully lifts one of the oriental swords. The sword, spinning, is thrown into the air.
With skill, Fierro catches it in flight with his right hand and continues the motion into a slashing attack.
*CLANG*
If Rero hadn't interposed with her sword, moving with all her speed, Franz Dadref would have been split in two by now.
She was foolish to think they had a numerical advantage, but in reality, the two have only hindered her in the fight against the swordsman.
*CRACK*
Fierro startles at the unexpected crack in his oriental-style sword, a surprise that halts his attack.
Quickly disengaging, he steps back to inspect the damage, his eyes narrowing in assessment.
"Impressive... Although not a magical weapon, this is the pinnacle of craftsmanship from the Celestial Empire's blacksmiths. A mere Silverdark sword should never have been able to cut it," he muses, watching as the blade breaks further.
"Fierro, I will not hold back. So, you shouldn't either. Do not betray even the principles you taught me," Rero asserts, her voice firm, showing no sign of weakness.
"I'm sorry, Lil’ Silly. I've always been inconsistent. But I sensed in that blade, your determination to see this through. From now on, I will fight at my full strength. I acknowledge you as a swordswoman, and for that, you deserve my respect," he apologizes, showing a sense of fraternal pride for how his sister has grown.
"Dadref, Fleubert! Get out of the way! You're just a hindrance," Rero yells.
Her eyes are locked on the Servant before her, ready for the ensuing battle.
Franz, with a hint of protest, soon realizes his involvement in this battle is indeed futile. His expression darkens.
Ever since he descended into this dungeon, he's felt like nothing more than a burden.
Clenching his teeth, he steps aside, silently cursing himself.
Jarica, acknowledging the bitter truth in Rero's words, joins her companion further back.
"The ranks don't matter anymore," she muses aloud, her light brown hair fluttering in the wind.
The brother and sister lock eyes, everything else fading into irrelevance.
The damp breeze of the vast cavern adds a layer of drama to the moment.
Suddenly, Fierro lunges forward with Clarissa, his greatsword flashing in a deadly arc.
Rero, driven by instinct, parries the attack, their blades clashing with a resonant clang.
The duel resumes, each strike a painful reminder of their shared past and the diverging paths that have led them here.
As they exchange blows, Rero's mind races.
She recalls Fierro's teachings, the countless hours they spent practicing in the garden, the principles of swordsmanship he instilled in her. Each move, each parry, is a testament to those lessons, a bitter acknowledgment of the bond they once shared.
Despite [RAZOR EDGE], Rero's sword cannot damage a magical blade like the greatsword Clarissa.
Fierro, recognizing the moment, prepares to deliver his final lesson—a demonstration of the zenith of his swordsmanship.
"This is the culmination of my training in the art of the sword. This will be my final lesson, Rero," Fierro declares, his voice echoing through the temple with an authority that belies the turmoil within.
Like a cry echoing through the temple walls, Fierro swings Clarissa in a flawless cut before him.
The blade begins to glow with blinding light, as if a shooting star were trapped in the metal.
Then, in an instant that seems to suspend time, Fierro unleashes his ultimate technique.
[HUNDRED SWORDS]
Waves of energy emanate from the greatsword's blade, materializing into dozens of luminous swords, each with the sharpness and lethality of a real blade. These swords project forward in a deadly dance, a steel rain that seems impossible to evade.
They move with surgical precision, weaving a net of cuts and slashes that envelops Rero, forcing her into desperate defense.
Rero, pushed beyond her limits, twists and dodges, her sword becoming an extension of her being as she tries to parry and deflect the relentless assault. Every movement requires total concentration, a perfect balance between strength and grace.
Yet, despite her courage and skill, the [HUNDRED SWORDS] attack is overwhelming.
Every luminous sword that escapes her defense leaves behind a trail of light and pain, thin cuts that draw maps of suffering on her skin and armor.
Fierro, at the center of this vortex of destruction, remains motionless, a conductor guiding the symphony of blades with Clarissa.
His expression is a mask of concentration, but in his eyes, there's a trace of pain, an acknowledgment of the sacrifice this duel demands.
Yet Rero, despite the danger and suffering, advances as she continues to defend herself from the onslaught.
She has discovered the weakness of her brother's technique; he cannot move while executing it.
Fierro smiles, acknowledging his sister's skill, and increases the pace of the attacks.
As Rero gets very close...
"UAAARRRGGGHHH!"
Rero screams in excruciating pain, a pain she has never experienced in her life.
Her left arm was cut off.
Cleanly.
From it, an explosion of blood.
