he arena was silent, the air thick with anticipation. The crowd of generals, warriors, and onlookers gathered at the edges of the open space, all eyes locked on the father and son standing at opposite ends. Gor stood still, his dark armor almost casting a shadow on the very light around him, the shadows lengthening as if to follow his every movement. His dark sword gleamed with a menacing darkness, as if it had a life of its own.
His eyes, burning with an intensity that matched the dark power coursing through him, never left his father. His grip tightened around the hilt. Bale, on the other hand, was as calm as ever. The Lightless sword shimmered, an eerie radiance flowing from the metal as the surrounding light seemed to dance around it. Gor knew he was outmatched. His father was stronger, faster, and more experienced. He wasn't fool enough to think he could win, not yet. But he had to know. He needed to see if he was closing the gap—if his power had grown enough to stand against Bale's immense strength. Without warning, Gor charged first, a burst of speed and power pushing him forward. His sword, crackling with dark energy, slashed through the air toward Bale, who effortlessly parried the blow. The sound of metal striking metal echoed across the arena, the shockwave of the clash sending a tremor through the ground beneath them. Their swords roared as they clashed, their auras raging across the whole arena. Everyone watching could feel the weight of their clash. It wasn't exactly what one would call the grandest of clashes given the nature of the people here, but it was more than they expected from Gor, a lot more. Bale and Gor pushed each other back. The first clash had ended in a stalemate, but it wasn't over. The dust from their initial clash had barely settled before Gor lunged again, his sword a blur of dark energy streaking through the air. Bale met the strike with precision, the Lightless sword flashing as it parried and countered in the same motion. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, forcing the onlookers to brace themselves against the sheer force of the exchange. Gor twisted mid-air, using the recoil to pivot into another attack. His blade screamed through the space between them, a downward slash meant to split the ground. Bale sidestepped at the last moment, his movements' fluid, almost effortless. The earth beneath them cracked from the missed strike, shards of stone erupting into the air as Gor landed and spun, his blade already on its next course. Bale's sword met the assault in an instant, redirecting the force and sending Gor skidding back. But the boy didn't stop. He rebounded, launching himself forward in a spiraling slash aimed at Bale's midsection. This time, Bale did not simply deflect—he struck. His counter came swift, the Lightless sword colliding with Gor's weapon and sending sparks flying. The sound of the impact rang through the arena, a deafening cry of steel against steel. Gor barely had time to react before his father pressed forward, each of his movements like a flowing tide—unrelenting and absolute. The older warrior's sword danced in arcs of raw power, forcing Gor onto the defensive. The young warrior blocked, parried, and evaded, but every moment, Bale closed the gap between them. Then, an opening. Gor ducked under a sweeping slash, planting his foot and twisting into a counterstrike. His dark sword carved an upward arc, aimed for Bale's side. For the first time in the battle, Bale's eyes narrowed. His blade flickered. In an instant, he altered his momentum, spinning with Gor's attack and redirecting the energy away. The moment Gor's strike was deflected, Bale drove his palm forward, striking Gor square in the chest. The impact sent Gor hurtling backward, his body flipping twice before he crashed onto the ground, skidding to a halt. The arena fell silent, the dust settling around the motionless figure. The strike was very powerful, but Gor's armor seemed to have taken the damage as the runes flickered. Gor didn't say anything and pressed forward, but this time, he was going to move quicker and faster. There was something he wanted to try, something he wanted to do….
Gor stepped forward, and in an instant, he appeared in front of Bale. His speed was so great, many had lost sight of him for a second. Unfortunately for Gor, Bale was not one of them. Bale blocked the dark blade with his divine sword, the two steels roaring in delight as their masters clashed.
Gor's spirit burned bright and strong as he began to attack with speed and precision. His sword became a blur, striking from multiple angles, each blow fueled by his raw determination. Bale countered every strike with an ease that spoke of his overwhelming experience, his movements efficient and exact. The ground beneath them cracked with each impact, sending debris into the air as they moved like phantoms across the battlefield.
Gor twisted mid-swing, feinting left before shifting his weight and launching a crushing overhead strike. Bale met it head-on, locking their blades together. Sparks erupted from the point of contact, illuminating their determined faces. Bale pressed forward, pushing Gor back with sheer strength, but Gor shifted his stance, allowing himself to be forced backward before using the momentum to spin, his blade arcing in a deadly sweep.
Bale leaned back, dodging by the slimmest margin, and countered with a precise thrust. Gor barely managed to sidestep, feeling the edge of the Lightless sword graze his armor. He retaliated instantly, his blade curving in a rising diagonal slash. Bale caught it mid-motion, redirecting it downward before pivoting and launching a powerful kick that sent Gor skidding back once more.
The young warrior recovered swiftly, his breathing heavy but his resolve unwavering. He raised his sword again, the fire in his eyes unyielding. Bale remained still for a moment, analyzing his son's form, then took a step forward. The fight was far from over.
Gor roared, charging with newfound ferocity. Their blades met once more, the battle escalating into a symphony of speed, power, and skill. The clash of father and son continued, neither willing to relent.