I Guard The Book That Slays Gods

"Ha. Pathetic… is this all the love you have for Jobe?"

"Shut up!"

Steel clashed with steel, despite both blades being forged from darkness. Their movements blurred as they held their ground, shadowy swords meeting with impacts that sent bone-creaking echoes through the air.

Raiden had no patience for Deathsight's arrogance as he mocked his devotion to his brother Jobe, releasing a maniacal laugh. Raiden's blood boiled hotter by the second.

He knew he wasn't thinking rationally, rooted in place as the thought of wasting even a moment without attacking Ling disgusted him. But this was his pride, his love for his brother.

Yet, despite the Poison Dragon's massive blade, every strike was deflected. The precision and power behind each shadowy blow that sliced through the air, the force of their collision making Raiden's body scream with pain.

Time had stretched beyond what the moon dragon could track, and worse still, he hadn't once wondered where his comrades had gone. But he couldn't afford to—his pride wouldn't let him.

However, in the heat of the moment, Ling abruptly unleashed a powerful strike, catching Raiden off guard as his eyes widened in terror.

His body jerked backward but still failed to avoid the strike completely as it crashed against his shadowy blade, sending a horrific metallic sound through the distance as he skidded backward on his feet.

Pain shot through his hand as he almost dropped his sword, teeth clenched tight beneath his smoky skeletal mask.

As the pain diverted his focus, Deathsight didn't waste the opening. He bridged the distance in an instant with a cocky smile, dropping into a low stance with his hand gripping the hilt of his enormous blade.

Cold dread flooded Raiden's body, his eyes going wide as he gulped frantically. Ling was too fast, too near to escape, and his wounded hand trembled against his sword's grip. A single strike would spell the moon dragon's end.

But rather than strike, the Poison Dragon stopped and adopted a casual stance right in front of Raiden. Before Raiden could think clearly, his body instinctively took the chance and jumped back, creating space between them.

The moon dragon stood there, breathing heavily as his heart hammered like it was trying to escape his chest. His skin crawled with fear and confusion.

What Ling just replicated was his family's hidden technique, Pride, which he'd performed just once in their prolonged battle.

He'd thought he moved too swiftly for Deathsight to master it completely. It was a technique born of this world, after all. So how could he have absorbed it so quickly?

"If this is how you want to honor your brother, then you are bound to die in this world," Deathsight said, wearing a cocky smile as he flicked his white hair.

Raiden's dark aura wavered with rage, his trembling right hand on his smoking sword as he tried to position his shattered left hand.

Despite the confusion, he grasped what was happening on some level. Ling could have finished him with that technique—it was brutally clear. But he hadn't. He was toying with Raiden, treating him like the pathetic weakling he always claimed he was.

As he had told himself repeatedly, the only one with the right to call him pathetic was his deceased brother, Jobe. He died due to Raiden's cowardice, so he alone held that authority.

"Tch… you don't listen, do you?" Raiden's eyes narrowed, and he put both hands on his sword, clutching it firmly through the agony.

"Sounds like you're asking me to take your throat too." He spoke with bitter coldness, and his dark aura suddenly surged in intensity, spreading outward as the skulls and bones littering the ground began to smolder. He could perceive every tiny movement around him, even the shifting wind. His mana zone had activated.

If Ling wanted to underestimate him, he would make him pay for it. Even with his mana zone active, Deathsight simply smiled, which strengthened Raiden's resolve. For the first time in this entire battle, he was certain he would emerge victorious.

In a flash, Raiden appeared before Ling, golden eyes boring steadily into those stolen gray ones, recreating exactly what Deathsight had done moments before.

The Poison Dragon's eyes widened in shock, yet he still wore a genuine smile, as if he were proud. But that meant nothing whatsoever to the moon dragon.

At point-blank range, Raiden channeled mana into his sword and struck, launching a dark wind blade that caught Ling in the gut and drove him crashing into the ground.

Before Deathsight could rise, Raiden was already on him. Another dark wind blade slammed down, hammering him deeper into the earth.

Raiden gave himself no time to breathe. Strike after strike, his body screamed with fatigue, every muscle fiber pleading for rest, but he wouldn't yield. Despite the relentless assault, none of his attacks caused real damage—Ling's armor remained perfectly intact.

But this was exactly what he wanted. He was imitating a technique his apprentice Leo had taught him—wind slash.

It wasn't as powerful as his remaining techniques, which was precisely what he wanted Deathsight to think. Harmless-looking strikes that didn't seem worth blocking.

Moving as one with the darkness, nearly invisible as his dark slashes hammered Deathsight without mercy, Raiden channeled dark flames into his blade—the only fire capable of killing a primordial dragon.

He waited for the perfect moment to strike, the perfect opportunity to turn Deathsight's own technique against him.

Yet even through his relentless attacks, Raiden's heart went cold as he looked at Deathsight. Tears were streaming down the dragon's face, but still he wore that same gentle smile.

For a moment, confusion washed over Raiden. Those mellowed eyes, the softened gaze, those pained tears—he recognized the expression. He had felt the same not long ago, and he knew they were genuine.

But he refused to fall for Deathsight's twisted scheme. He would finish him if it were the last thing he ever did.

He stopped dead in his tracks, standing face-to-face with the Poison Dragon. His eyes narrowed with pure rage as he readied his final strike. Yet Ling kept smiling through his tears, the sight becoming more unbearable by the moment.

The moon dragon tightened his grip on his sword and smirked beneath his mask as excitement began to surge through him.

"… Die, you bastard." He muttered under his breath and unleashed a slash of searing dark flames at Ling. The blade was longer and thicker than any he had conjured before.

But before the strike could connect, Raiden heard Deathsight's murmured words and his thrills instantly vanished. His eyes grew wide in horror as his body darted forward, every sense within him forcing his bruised body to run faster than he ever had.

Raiden could barely make out what Ling had said, but now he found himself doing everything possible to save the very person he'd been trying to kill moments before.

No!—he repeated over and over.