Chapter 122: Lucien Vs Zephyrion [4]

"First Strike."

Zephyrion’s eyes widened as Lucien appeared in front of him like a streak of thunder, raising his armament upward as he struck down in a straight manner. The speed was immense, the attack sudden, there was no time to dodge, no room to evade.

The very air before the blade seemed to part, splitting as if the sword had carved a seam through the atmosphere itself. A visible distortion rippled outward from the blade’s path, the air separating and flowing around the edge like water around a stone. The pressure alone was suffocating, pressing down on Zephyrion like an invisible weight.

He raised Seraph’s Blade to block, golden light flaring around him in desperation.

The clash was immense.

Sparks of golden and dark silver energy exploded across the arena, the shockwave rippling outward, forcing the students to shield their eyes. The air itself seemed to scream as the two blades met. The sound was deafening, a sharp, ringing collision that echoed through the coliseum like a thunderclap.

But Zephyrion had underestimated the attack.

The force behind Lucien’s strike was far greater than he had anticipated. It wasn’t just power, it was weight, pressure, an overwhelming presence that crushed down on him like a mountain. His arms buckled instantly. His wings flared uselessly, unable to brace against the impact.

The golden barrier around Seraph’s Blade flickered, then shattered like glass.

Zephyrion was sent flying.

Zephyrion’s body crashed into the barrier of the arena, the impact sending a shockwave through the coliseum. A loud crack echoed as his back hit the shimmering surface, spider-web fractures spreading across the barrier before it quickly healed. The force of the collision knocked the air from his lungs, and a sharp, burning pain shot through his chest.

A metallic taste flooded his mouth. Blood.

He forced himself to swallow it, refusing to let it spill. His pride wouldn’t allow it. His jaw tightened as he pushed himself to his feet, his wings trembling, his body aching.

Next, his body began to heal up. The golden light of his angelic bloodline pulsed through him, mending his wounds, soothing the pain. He looked at Lucien with a serious expression, if he wasn’t careful, he would be defeated.

He didn’t dare underestimate Lucien again. He planned to come in full force.

His gaze fell on Lucien, who stood calmly at the center of the arena. The students were surprised. Zephyrion had been sent flying at the first attack. Was Lucien that strong?

Among them, they began to take Lucien seriously. His way of looking weak yet being impactful like this was shocking.

Zephyrion’s gaze hardened as he channeled his Originat. His angelic wings spread wide, golden light shining from them like a second sun. The air around him grew warm, charged with holy energy. Light Qi began to emit from his body, dense and suffocating.

Then, feathers began to detach from his wings.

One by one, they floated into the air, each one glowing with golden light. They hovered around him like a halo, thirty in total, each one humming with power. He pointed his sword toward Lucien, and a large golden rune appeared behind him, bigger than him, etched with layers of complex symbols, pulsing with Originat.

His feathers began to glow brighter as he channeled Originat into them. The rune behind him spun slowly, growing brighter, more intense.

Zephyrion’s voice echoed through the coliseum, calm but carrying the weight of his resolve.

"You’re strong," he said. "But I won’t go down that easily."

"Feather Barrage!" Zephyrion’s voice echoed through the coliseum.

He swung his sword, and the massive golden rune behind him flared with blinding light. The thirty feathers shot forward like a storm of golden light, each one moving with insane speed, sharp and precise, aimed directly at Lucien.

The students gasped as the air screamed, the feathers tearing through it and leaving trails of golden light behind them. The sheer number of projectiles filled the arena, creating a web of light that seemed inescapable.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed slightly. He raised his sword, his stance calm and ready.

The first feather came fast, aimed at his chest. Lucien twisted, his body flowing like water, and the feather passed inches from him, grazing the air where he had stood.

But the feather didn’t stop.

It curved mid-air, turning around and coming back toward him.

They’re homing in on me, Lucien thought, his eyes narrowing further.

The second feather came from his left, then the third from his right, then a fourth from above. They were relentless, each one adjusting its trajectory to follow his movements.

Lucien moved like a shadow, his body flowing smoothly as he sidestepped the second feather, ducked under the third, and rolled away from the fourth. His movements were fluid, controlled, and precise. But the feathers kept coming.

Five more feathers shot toward him from different angles, their golden trails interweaving like a web of light. Lucien’s sword came up, deflecting one, then another, sparks of golden energy scattering as he knocked them aside.

But they didn’t stop. They simply looped around and attacked again.

The students watched in stunned silence. Zephyrion’s assault was relentless, and Lucien was being forced to dodge and deflect constantly. This was what it was looking to them, a storm of golden feathers, each one carrying the weight of Zephyrion’s will.

And Zephyrion wasn’t done.

Suddenly, lightning discharged from Zephyrion’s body. But unlike normal golden lightning, his lightning looked more like golden milky light condensed in the form of lightning, dense, bright, and blinding. It streaked across the arena, leaving trails of holy light in its wake. The air crackled with power, and the students shielded their eyes from the intense glow.

Meanwhile, Lucien defended against the feathers.

They came at him from all sides, front, back, left, right, above. Fifteen feathers surrounded him in a circular formation, each one gleaming with golden light. They hovered for a moment, as if waiting for a signal.

Then they attacked all at once.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. He raised his sword, his body moving with fluid precision. The academy sword became a blur of motion as he deflected one feather, then another, then a third. Sparks of golden energy exploded around him like fireworks, the impact of each deflection sending shockwaves through the air.

But the feathers were relentless. They came from every direction, pressing him from all sides. Lucien’s movements were controlled, precise, but the sheer number of attacks was forcing him into a defensive stance. He could feel the pressure building, the constant assault wearing down his defenses.

The students watched, their breaths held. Some had their hands clenched, others leaned forward, their eyes fixed on the arena.

And then, something unexpected happened.

A flash of golden light appeared behind Lucien.

Zephyrion’s figure materialized from the lightning, his sword raised, golden light gathering around Seraph’s Blade. He had used the lightning as cover, disappearing from his position and appearing behind Lucien in an instant. His wings were spread wide, his eyes burning with intensity.

His voice cut through the air, calm but carrying the weight of his resolve.

"You’re strong," he said. "But I won’t go down that easily."

He swung his sword.

The students gasped. The tension in the coliseum skyrocketed.

The battle had reached a critical point.