Death Guns In Another World - Chapter 2058 - 2058: The First True Strike

The void was silent again.

Alex lay sprawled across the fractured ground of Nyx’s inner world, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. Sweat and blood mixed across his body, steaming faintly in the shadowed atmosphere. His hand clenched tightly around the dagger still stained with that wisp of shadow-mist—the proof that he had struck her once.

That moment replayed in his head over and over. The feel of the blade cutting through her defenses, the sight of her sleeve tearing, then her shoulder misting. It was real. He had broken through Nyx’s impenetrable guard.

Yet, even as the joy burned within him, the weight of truth pressed harder. That strike had been shallow. A scratch. Something that would never matter in a real fight. If Nyx had been trying—if she had wanted to end it—he would have been dead a thousand times already.

He pushed himself up to his knees, his chest heaving.

“One scratch… isn’t enough,” he muttered, his voice hoarse but burning with resolve.

“I’ll do more.”

Nyx sat back upon her throne of shadows, her legs crossed, her chin resting lightly against the back of her hand. She hadn’t moved since ending the last exchange, but her eyes—those endless wells of darkness—remained locked on him.

They didn’t judge. They didn’t mock. They simply waited.

And in that silence, Alex understood. This session wasn’t over. Not until he proved it—proved that he could do more than graze her sleeve.

He staggered to his feet, his blade dragging across the ground before he lifted it to his side. His body screamed in agony, but he grit his teeth and roared into the void, letting the sound echo into infinity.

“Again!”

The void rippled. Shadows churned and spread outward as if the world itself answered his call. Nyx did not speak. She rose again, her sword sliding silently into her grasp. The oppressive gravity returned, twice as heavy as before, crushing Alex’s shoulders. His knees almost buckled instantly.

He clenched his jaw, veins glowing faintly across his arms as mana surged through him. His regenerative body struggled under the weight, muscles tearing and mending at once, but he forced himself upright.

If I can’t stand under this… then I don’t deserve to fight her.

He straightened, his sword raised. His grin widened.

“Come on.”

Nyx moved first. She vanished from her throne like smoke whisked away by wind. In the blink of an eye, she was in front of him, her blade already descending.

CLANG!

The force rattled his arms, but Alex dug his heels into the broken ground, redirecting the blow to his side. The momentum carried him off balance, but he spun with it, slashing upward with his dagger.

Her sword flicked sideways, knocking the dagger away with surgical precision. The counterstrike nearly split his ribs open, but Alex twisted backward, sliding across the void floor with sparks flying beneath his boots.

The grin never left his face.

Every clash was faster now, sharper. Her movements pressed him harder than before, and yet—he could read them. Not perfectly. Not enough to dominate. But enough to survive. Enough to adapt.

The battlefield exploded in sparks and shockwaves, the clang of steel ringing endlessly in the void. Each collision felt like thunder in his bones. His lungs burned, but his spirit soared higher with every strike.

Nyx’s expression remained unchanged, but her pressure increased. Shadows poured from her blade, forming extensions that lashed out like serpents, striking at Alex from multiple angles.

Too many!

He slashed downward, cutting through two tendrils, but the third wrapped around his ankle. The ground cracked beneath him as the shadow yanked, pulling him into the air.

“Not this time!” Alex roared.

He fired his mana through his veins, igniting his muscles in a violent surge. His sword blazed with flames while frost coated his dagger. With one strike, he severed the tendril, spinning midair before propelling himself downward like a comet.

His flaming sword collided with Nyx’s shadow wall. The explosion rocked the void, shockwaves blasting outward, tearing open the black ground in massive fissures.

But when the smoke cleared—she stood untouched. Not even her stance had shifted.

Alex landed, his knees buckling. He laughed breathlessly.

“You really are a monster…”

For a fleeting second, he thought he saw her eyes narrow. Not amusement. Not anger. Just… faint recognition of his words.

Minutes stretched into eternity. His arms were numb, his legs heavy, his body battered beyond human limits. Yet his regeneration refused to let him collapse. He fought on, each strike more desperate, more reckless.

He had been parried, slashed, sent flying, choked by shadows—but still, he rose.

At last, his body hit the limit. His chest heaved, his vision blurred, and his legs trembled violently beneath him. He knew he had maybe one more strike in him before the void swallowed him in unconsciousness.

And that was enough.

One strike. That’s all I need. Not a scratch. A true blow.

Nyx stood across from him, blade lowered slightly at her side. She was waiting, her gaze cold but piercing.

He forced his aura to surge, flames erupting from his sword, ice crystallizing along his dagger. Mana gathered so violently it burned through his veins. His body screamed in protest.

His lips curled into a feral grin.

“Let’s end this.”

The world slowed.

Nyx vanished, appearing in front of him instantly, her sword cutting downward in a black arc that split the very void.

Alex roared, stepping forward into the blow. Their blades collided. The impact cracked the world around them, shockwaves tearing into infinity.

But Alex didn’t stop there. He let his flaming sword clash against hers, holding it in place with sheer force. His other hand twisted, his ice-covered dagger shooting upward in a desperate thrust.

Nyx moved to parry—too late.

SHHRK!

The dagger slashed across her abdomen, cutting through her armor of shadow and leaving a deep, glowing wound that bled darkness.

The void fell silent.

Both stood still, their blades locked together, but Alex’s dagger embedded in her. His chest heaved, his body shaking violently from exhaustion. Yet his grin split his face wider than ever.

“…Got you,” he whispered, almost delirious.

For the first time since their training began—Nyx staggered back.

The gravity lifted. The shadows receded.

Alex collapsed to his knees, his dagger slipping from his hand, blood dripping down his arms. He could barely breathe, every muscle torn and screaming, but the satisfaction drowned it all.

He had done it. Not a graze. Not a scratch. A true strike.

Nyx stood silently, one hand brushing against the wound at her side. Her expression remained unreadable, but her eyes lingered on him longer than ever before.

“…Acceptable,” she murmured, her voice like a whisper of death.

Then, without another word, she turned and walked back to her throne, shadows reforming around her wound.

Alex collapsed fully, lying flat on the broken ground, laughing between ragged breaths.

“Hah…hah…hah… Finally… I did it…”

His vision blurred as unconsciousness dragged him away. But even in the dark, his smile remained.

This was only the beginning.