169 The Mountain God Style
Maybe it’s fate, but I’ve found the perfect catalyst to hone what you taught me, Father, he thought.
This realization came to his mind as he squared off against the nightmare bearing the appearance of his father; the exact replication of the Mountain God Style along with the mannerisms of his parent was almost a benefit for him. He knew them well, and with his body that had undergone physical changes, he was ready to finally inherit those skills.
–
While the clash between ‘false’ father and son came to its next stage, Sumera struggled to absolve the wound on Kintoki’s chest.
“Come on, you big oaf…” Sumera said with tears in her eyes, “You aren’t dying like this. Not from a small cut; it was your dream to eat in every land, wasn’t it? Even in the demon continent, even among elves…It’s your dream to experience all of it, right? What good is it if you die here?”
Though she tried to appeal to him, the words of the scarlet-eyed woman didn’t reach the man, who was unconscious, stained in his own arterial fluid.
“I know what that dream really is, even if you try to hide that gentle side of yourself…You know I’m a demon; you’ve seen how I’m ridiculed…how people look at me. That’s why I hide my horns under my mat,” Sumera said, reaching up as she removed the large wizard hat from atop her head, revealing a pair of onyx horns, “…But, not anymore. It’s your dream to wash away the animosity between species in this world. More than anything, a man too kind for his own good like yourself hates unfairness.”
As much as she poured her true feelings into her words, it didn’t bolster her healing proficiency as the verdant glow of the rejuvenating magecraft flickered, beginning to falter as she strained herself to continue.
Please, Kintoki…I can’t do this alone, Sumera pleaded.
There were hard set limits on mages; mana was the most clear point of limitation. As much as she tried, she couldn’t overcome her natural barriers as her mana fizzled away.
Just as the spell began to dissipate, causing what progress was made on stifling the bleeding to come undone, Sumera found the silver-haired girl arriving by her side.
“Melisande, was it…? What’re you doing? You need to stay back from this battle–”
“Let me help,” Melisande offered, extending her hand.
Though she wanted to remain strict with not letting a young girl like Melisande get intertwined in the conflict, Sumera was desperate, quickly understanding just what it was that the emerald-eyed girl was offering.
“…Thank you,” Sumera accepted, gently holding her hand.
Melisande smiled warmly, “It’s all I can do right now, so take as much as you need.”
This time, with a new source of rich mana, Sumera manifested ‘Healing’ once again, this time with surprising potency as the verdant light softly enveloped the space.
Sumera was surprised by the efficiency this time, and not just the quantity of mana.
This girl…she possessed extraordinary potent mana, Sumera thought.
–
In order to keep the recovery of Kintoki steady, Emilio clashed against the spitting image of his father. He was able to read the technique that was going to be used by the Unending Nightmare as he watched the familiar figure dashed to him.
He’s going for an overhead slash again! I’ll brace myself and focus my reinforcement in my legs and shoulders! He planned.
Furthering his own mastery of reinforcement, he bolstered himself just in time as he felt the timing of his father’s attacks ingrained in his body through years of grueling training, swinging his blade upward just before the false Julius attacked.
It was as he predicted; an overhead slash meant for slashing even through the sturdiest helms.
A perfect parry; Emilio managed to deflect the attack with a technique taught to him by his father, but only just now coming into use through his furthered skills: “Steady Verdant.”
It was the first time such a result ever came from a clash with his father, even if it was merely an entity posing as his parent, it was by all means a defining achievement to the young man as he found himself smiling amidst the dreadful situation.
Though he wanted to let out a triumphant yell from the deepest depths of his being, there was no time as the false Julius was quick to rebound from being knocked off balance by the counter, going in for another strike.
I can’t let up for a second. Full-throttle; give it everything you’ve got, he thought to himself.
With that in mind, what came next was seamless, almost natural to his innermost intentions as his heart thumped in his chest, releasing the inherited blood of the Dragonheart through his veins as his eyes shifted, intenisying.
[Dragonheart System Awakened]
[Current Stage: 2/10 | Dragon Son]
The two clashed steel-to-steel as sparks danced in the air. With the increased physical abilities granted by the Dragonheart System, he wasn’t shaken to the bone this time by the imposing strength that belonged to his familiar foe.
Remain as stalwart as a mountain! He reminded himself.
Planting his feet down firmly, he went for a powerful slash utilizing the fundamentals of the Mountain God Style that prioritized a strong stance and unflash, but powerful blows.
Even as the black-eyed, false replica of his father guarded the blow with his own blade, it caused the nightmare’s boots to slide back against the platform a good meter.
There was a slight look of surprise on the silent nightmare’s scruffy face as though not expecting what had just happened.
Capitalizing on the opening, he dashed forward, utilizing the signature move of his father before the nightmare could replicate the defensive techniques of the Mountain God Style.
“Valley Carver.”
It was something he failed to ever use effectively years ago as he lacked the proper body to unleash such hefty blows, but this time as he dragged the blade bestowed to him as a gift by his parents through the air, he felt strength coursing through his veins before rending the false flesh of his opponent.
Black blood squirted from the wound etched across the being’s torso, leaving it stunned further by this unaccounted for possibility.
Emilio looked forward towards the entity with resolve embedded in his sharp, amethyst eyes, “Not according to plan, is it? You looked into my own memories, seeing that I always failed to match Father, didn’t you? I bet you’re reeling from that one right about now.”
Again, by accident, his eyes met with the nightmare’s own, though it was odd to be punished for looking into the eyes of his father, even be it a mere copy. That same jolt happened as his memories were scanned in a heartbeat, allowing the nightmare to mend its own flesh before shifting its stance.
Before he could discern the change that overcame the nightmare version of his father, he found himself having to backpedal as the false Julius closed in on him within the blink of an eye.
“Ghh!” He let out in shock.
Going on the complete defensive, he had to focus entirely on watching the sword of his opponent blur through the air, using everything he had to block each strike as both speed and power was honed to a further level.
That…It read further into my mind? This isn’t the way Father sparred against me; did it read my memories of his fight against the Chaos God Style swordsman?! He realized.
There was something deeply bleak about being attacked with such honed bloodlust by one bearing the appearance of a parent; it was a feeling as if your very existence was being rejected, fighting your own creator.
Though such feelings were knowingly unplaced as he steeled himself, making up for the gap in swordplay by using a sudden bludgeon of water to crash into the side of the false Julius, knocking him away and disrupting his balance with the flow of mystical aqua.
That’s right! Even if I’m not the best at swordplay, I can make up for it with my magic! He thought.
It wasn’t so simple, though; the Ten Divine Styles of swordplay weren’t just to counter other swordsmen, but to combat magic as well. This much was displayed as the false Julius struck the fake manifestation of his sword down, invoking a strong propulsion of physical force that dispelled the binding water.
Crap! He thought.
Again, he found himself having to extend himself to the fullest just to keep up, clashing blades repeatedly through swings that felt as though they were going to tear his arms off through the strain required.
As another slash came his way, he was outmaneuvered as the steel wielded by the entity wearing the appearance of his father broke through his guard, leaving a slash across his side.
“Ngh!” He winced.
Blood dripped from the fresh wound, bubbling up with a warm, stinging sensation that was quickly dulled by his own adrenaline as he gripped his blade tightly with both hands, responding in kind as he didn’t shy away now.
As stalwart…as a mountain! He reminded himself.
This time, he bathed his steel in the azure flames inherent to his draconic blood, fueling his swing with the exuberant heat before sending the condensed blaze straight against the Unending Nightmare.
The bright-blue flames enveloped the false Julius, swirling around him as the mystical heat shrouded the figure in a violent essence, burning away his form and turning it to darkness.
I did it, Father, he thought, holding his slashed side.