NOVEL NEXT Chapter 54: The golden gauntlets
The air thickened, taut with unspoken tension, while the currents of wind spiralled in restless whispers around the two combatants. It was as if the world held its breath, and in that suspended moment, the figure in disguise clenched his fists-the golden gauntlets encasing them crackling with ominous resonance.
In an instant, and without warning, he lunged forward like a predator on the hunt, his body a blur of focused energy. His right arm coiled back, the tension in his muscles palpable, before snapping forward with ferocious intent. His golden eyes blazed, radiating an intensity that seemed to light the very air around him.
"Mountain God's Crushing Fist: Avalanche Barrage!" he roared. His voice rumbled on, as unrelenting as the continuous storm. And then came the rapid punches that flew at Nyxander like a tide of force.
Nyxander met the assault head-on, his fists crashing against the incoming strikes like boulders against a torrent. With each impact, the ground beneath his feet fractured, sending cracks spidering outward, and the sheer force of it sent him backward in a groaning of earth that did not falter.
The incognito assailant paused mid-strike, pivoting smoothly as he redirected his right fist skyward, then swung it downward with devastating force. Nyxander sidestepped swiftly, the strike missing him by mere inches. The unleashed energy tore through the air, the resulting gust slamming into the ground with such violence that debris exploded outward, bullets of shattered stone and dust scattering across the street.
The scattered fragments peppered the surroundings with alarming force, puncturing walls, embedding in wooden carts, and sending tables careening. Hidden onlookers screamed briefly before ducking for cover, their curiosity mingled with fear as they peered out cautiously.
Nyxander, still poised from his evasive maneuver, struck with a backhand in the general direction of his opponent. It was averted nimbly as the nimble figure leaped backward, dodging the blow agilely enough that both combatants found themselves staring again.
"Nullpoint," Nyxander whispered onto their telepathic bond, gaze not leaving off his opponent. "This is the first time I've come across someone so strong. More than half-is what I would consider using in this instance."
"That is inadvisable," Nullpoint returned calmly, the firmness of tone evident. "Exceeding fifty percent of your strength will risk undoing the seal on your energy. You must remain within the limits."
Confusion flickered across Nyxander's face, and a shadow of doubt was even noticeable to his opponent. "What does my essentia energy have to do with physical strength?"
"You fail to understand the magnitude of your energy," Nullpoint explained. "Your essentia is unlike anything I've encountered, even among the Primordials. Sealing just thirty percent of it strains my abilities. Exerting more force is akin to shaking a sealed pipe containing highly compressed water, with a weak cap holding it closed. If you shake the pipe with excessive force, the cap will blow off, and the contents will surge uncontrollably. That's what happens when you increase your physical strength, Such an event will not go unnoticed by those who lurk in the shadows."
There was a tense silence as Nyxander digested this revelation; his eyes flashed with curiosity and determination. "But his attacks."
"Yes," Nullpoint cut in, "his blows are stronger. The gauntlets focus energy through etched sigils, amplifying each strike. It is not just his strength that you are up against, but the amplification of the weapon.
The incognito figure, growing impatient, seized the moment. Charging at Nyxander, his gauntlets flared with renewed brilliance. "Mountain God's Crushing Fist: Avalanche Barrage!" he roared, channeling energy into his strikes with unrelenting fury.
"why not amplify your strikes using the remaining seventy percent?" Nullpoint urged. "Since I'm only sealing thirty percent of your energy, that should work ."
Since I'm only sealing thirty percent of your energy, why not amplify your strikes with the remaining seventy percent?"
Nyxander's eyes lit up with understanding. "You're right. Thank you." He raised his fist, lightning arcing around it with feral intensity. "Stormbreak Void Fist: Void Tempest, Stage Two!" he declared.
His fist connected with the incoming strike, and the explosion of energy from the contact sent waves of force ripping outwards. Dust and debris swirled in a chaotic storm; buildings groaned under the force, while carriages lifted, spinning violently before crashing to the earth. The man in disguise flew backward, but Nyxander bounded forward, his hand closing over the opponent's chest mid-air to halt his retreat.
But the feeling under his palm was unexpected-soft, yielding. A sudden realization dawned on him, but it was too late. The scarf slipped from the figure's head to expose a tumble of brilliant golden hair and a face red with indignation.
"Hey, Zion, what's going on?" A familiar voice called from behind, breaking the intensity of the moment. Nyxander turned to see Beorn approaching. Embarrassed, he jerked his hand away.
"I. I didn't know you were a woman," Nyxander stammered, raising his hands in apology.
"You pervert!" the woman snapped, slapping his hand away. She yanked down her mask and disclosed a face that was beautiful but furious.
Beorn froze in recognition, hasty to bow. "Greetings, Mountain Astro Leader. May I ask what brings you here?
Her eyes stuck on Nyxander, her face beet red as she hissed, "Pervert!" before turning on heel and disappearing into the distance, leaving behind her a trail of embarrassment.
Nyxander blinked in disbelief, pointing after her retreating figure. "What? Mountain Astro Leader? Then why was she stalking me?"
Her eyes flared as she retorted, "You pervert! Stop molesting Big sis!"
Before Nyxander could utter a word, she whirled on her heel and took off running, her long golden hair streaming behind her like a banner, her embarrassment left hanging in the air like a storm.
Beorn stepped closer to Nyxander, whose gaze remained fixed in the direction Seraphina had vanished, her golden hair glinting in the fading light until it disappeared completely. Beorn waved his hand in front of Nyxander's face, breaking his trance. "Zion, why the freezing gaze? Are you enchanted by her beauty, or just stunned by her audacity?" Beorn quipped, his tone light yet probing.
Nyxander blinked, his expression sharpening as he turned to Beorn. "Did you just say she's the leader of Mountain Astro Station?" His voice carried a mix of surprise and suspicion.
"Yes, she is. Why does that matter?" Beorn replied, his brows knitting together slightly as they began walking away from the chaotic scene. Around them, onlookers emerged from their hiding spots, brushing off dust and gathering what little remained of their damaged goods. The air was heavy with murmurs, disbelief, and scattered complaints, but neither man paid them much attention.
Nyxander sighed, his tone carrying an edge of irritation. "Because she appeared out of nowhere and attacked me, accusing me of harassing her big sister, someone I don't even know!"
"Oh, about that," Beorn began, his voice taking on a casual, explanatory tone as they walked along the cobblestone path. "Her name is Seraphina. She's very close to Lumina, they're like sisters, though not by blood. That's probably the 'big sister' she was talking about. And as for her actions, well… let's just say Seraphina doesn't always think before she acts. She's impulsive and thrives on conflict, fighting to her is like food to a starving wolf."
Nyxander nodded slowly, processing the information. The evening's dim light stretched their shadows across the bustling streets, now growing quieter as day gave way to night. "I see," he finally said. "Speaking of fighting, during our clash, her fists were encased in these golden gauntlets… They radiated enormous energy. What's the story behind those?"
Beorn's casual demeanor evaporated instantly, his head snapping toward Nyxander. His voice betrayed a hint of panic as he interrupted, "Wait, what did you just say? You resisted all those attacks from those… gauntlets?"
Nyxander frowned at Beorn's sudden shift in tone, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Yes, I did. What's so surprising about that? And what exactly are those gauntlets?"
Realizing his mistake, Beorn quickly shook his head, his expression stiffening as though sealing a secret behind his lips. "It's nothing. Forget I said anything," he muttered, his tone betraying both unease and finality.
But Nyxander wasn't so easily swayed. "Beorn, come on. You said something about 'Divine Gauntlets.' What are they?" he pressed, his curiosity burning brighter.
Beorn avoided his gaze, shaking his head more vigorously this time. "I said it was nothing. Just drop it, Zion," he insisted, his voice carrying the weight of a warning.
Nyxander clenched his jaw, frustration flickering across his face. He wanted answers, but Beorn's resolve was impenetrable. Sighing, he relented, knowing that forcing the issue would only push Beorn further into silence. "Fine. But I'll figure it out eventually," he muttered under his breath, determination simmering beneath his calm facade.
The two continued walking toward their destination, the once lively streets now cloaked in the quiet stillness of twilight. Shadows deepened around them as lamplighters began their work, illuminating the path ahead with soft, flickering light. Silence settled between them like a third companion, heavy and contemplative, as each man became lost in his own thoughts.