Journey of the Scholar

Yura stood poised, her blade glinting in the fading light as she faced the two looming figures before her.

The Twin Ogre Blade, Garok and Rarok, stood side by side, their massive, hulking forms a stark contrast to Yura's more agile and nimble figure.

Each brother wielded a colossal blade, jagged and menacing, reflecting their brute strength and raw power.

The air was tense, filled with the anticipation of battle, but beneath it all was the subtle hum of the Four Turn Miraculous Orb—the prize they all sought.

But for now, none of that mattered. Yura's focus was singular: defeating these two warriors.

"You're out of your depth, little girl," Garok sneered, his voice deep and guttural. His yellow eyes glowed with malice. "We survived the Bell Trial, and now you face the full might of the Twin Ogre Blade!"

Rarok chuckled beside him, an echo of his brother's menacing tone. "You should've fled when you had the chance, Yura. No one walks away once we've set our sights on them."

Yura tightened her grip on her sword, her muscles tensing. "You're all bark and no bite. Let's see if your blades are as sharp as your tongues."

Without another word, the battle began.

Rarok was the first to move, his blade swinging downward in a massive arc, aimed to cleave Yura in two. Crushing Mountain Slash was the name of his attack—a brutal, destructive force designed to break through any defense.

But Yura was faster.

She sidestepped the blow, her feet light as air, as the massive sword crashed into the ground, sending debris flying in all directions.

"Too slow!" Yura taunted, her voice filled with defiance. In response, Garok lunged at her from the side with a swift horizontal sweep, his attack named Ogre's Wrath Cleave, a devastating maneuver known for its sheer power.

Yura barely had time to parry, her sword clashing against his with a loud metallic ring that echoed across the battlefield.

The force of the blow sent her sliding back, her feet digging into the earth as she fought to maintain balance.

Her arms shook from the sheer strength behind Garok's attack, but she stood firm, her gaze never wavering.

"Impressive," Garok grunted, his yellow eyes narrowing. "But not enough."

Yura gritted her teeth, knowing that brute strength wasn't the way to defeat these two. She needed to use her agility and precision, finding the weak spots in their hulking defense.

She darted forward, her sword shimmering with light as she called upon her Dancing Light Blade technique, an agile series of strikes aimed at their exposed areas.

Her sword flickered like a silver flame, targeting the gaps in their armor with deadly precision.

Rarok, caught off guard, took a step back, blocking her strikes with difficulty. "You little—" he snarled as Yura's blade grazed his arm, drawing a thin line of blood.

But Garok was already moving to cover his brother. With a roar, he swung his blade in a wide arc, forcing Yura to leap back.

The sheer power behind the swing tore through the air, creating a gust of wind that nearly knocked her off her feet.

Twin Devastation Strike!

Both brothers attacked simultaneously now, their blades moving in unison with deadly coordination.

Garok's blade aimed high, while Rarok's went low, creating a cross-pattern of destruction.

Yura, seeing no way to block both attacks, leapt into the air, spinning mid-flight as she narrowly avoided the deadly combination.

However, she wasn't fast enough. Rarok's blade caught her leg, a searing pain shooting through her as it sliced through flesh.

Yura landed awkwardly, her leg buckling beneath her as blood trickled down her calf.

"Got you!" Rarok grinned, his jagged teeth showing as he advanced toward her.

Yura clutched her sword tightly, her breath ragged as she struggled to stay upright. "Not yet!" she hissed through gritted teeth, channeling her remaining energy into her next move. The wound on her leg throbbed painfully, but she had no time to dwell on it.

Summoning her internal power, Yura launched herself into her next technique, Blinding Flash Cut. Her sword became a streak of light as she dashed forward, aiming directly for Rarok's chest.

The speed of her movement left an afterimage, blurring her true position.

Rarok's eyes widened as the blinding light approached, and he barely raised his sword in time to block.

Sparks flew as their blades met, but the sheer speed of Yura's attack forced him back several steps. For the first time in the battle, his confidence wavered.

"You think you can defeat us alone?" Garok sneered, stepping in beside his brother. "You're nothing but a bug beneath our feet!"

"Then step on me if you can," Yura shot back, her voice filled with steely determination.

But the battle was turning against her. She was fast, but against the relentless power of the Twin Ogre Blade, her agility could only take her so far.

Each time she tried to close the distance, she was met with overwhelming force. Each time she blocked, her arms screamed in pain from the sheer weight of their strikes.

Rarok, emboldened by Yura's injury, charged forward with his most brutal technique yet, Ogre's Crushing Blow.

His blade whistled through the air, aimed directly for Yura's head. She dodged, barely avoiding the blow as it crashed into the ground, sending a shockwave of dirt and rocks into the air.

But Yura was starting to slow.

The wound on her leg, the constant parrying of their attacks—it was taking its toll.

Her vision blurred slightly, and she could feel her energy waning. But she wouldn't give up. Not now.

"You're finished, Yura!" Garok bellowed as he charged at her once more, his blade raised high. "This ends now!"

Yura's eyes flashed with defiance, but her body was betraying her. She couldn't move fast enough this time.

Twin Ogre Decimation!

Both brothers unleashed their final combined attack, their blades cutting through the air in perfect harmony, aimed directly for Yura's vulnerable form.

Time seemed to slow as Yura watched the blades descend toward her. She raised her sword, but she knew she couldn't stop both of them. This was it.

The blades crashed into her, and she felt the impact resonate through her entire body. Her sword shattered under the force, and she was thrown backward, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Garok and Rarok stood victorious, their massive blades resting at their sides as they looked down at her fallen form.

"You fought well, little girl," Garok said, his voice lacking the mockery from before. "But you were never going to win."

Rarok chuckled darkly, wiping the blood from his blade. "Now you can rest, knowing you were defeated by the best."

Yura lay on the ground, her body trembling from the pain and exhaustion. She had fought with everything she had, but in the end, it wasn't enough.

The Twin Ogre Blade had won.

But as Garok and Rarok turned their attention back to the Four Turn Miraculous Orb, a flicker of anger and determination burned in Yura's eyes. She wasn't done yet.

Not by a long shot.

____

Ruchir stood before the towering forms of Garok and Rarok, the Twin Ogre Blades, their twisted grins ever-present. The air between them crackled with tension.

Garok's mocking laughter echoed in the space as his massive, jagged blade rested on his shoulder.

"So, the little insect finally crawls out from its hiding place," Garok said, his voice thick with derision.

Rarok followed with a snort, brandishing his equally fearsome blade. "And here we thought you'd be smarter than this, Ruchir. Facing us? You must have a death wish."

Ruchir, however, remained silent. His eyes were focused, sharp like the edge of a honed blade.

The Twin Ogre Blades had a reputation, and they loved playing mind games, toying with their opponents before crushing them. But Ruchir's focus was impenetrable.

"Expectations, fear, power—they mean nothing to me," Ruchir said quietly, his voice filled with steady resolve. He drew his sword, the blade gleaming under the dim light.

"I don't need to be affected by the noise around me."

Garok tilted his head, his grin widening. "Oh, is that so? Well, let's see how long that attitude lasts!"

With a roar, Garok lunged at Ruchir, his sword whistling through the air in a wide, deadly arc. Ogre's Might Slash—a heavy, sweeping strike meant to overwhelm an opponent with sheer force.

The ground beneath Garok cracked from the pressure of his movement.

Ruchir dodged swiftly, his feet light as air. He could feel the wind from the swing, and yet, his expression didn't change.

As the sword crashed into the earth where he had stood, Ruchir used the opening to launch his own attack.

Heaven's Tranquil Edge—his sword seemed to disappear, becoming a blur as it aimed for Garok's exposed side. It was a precise, almost surgical strike, meant to exploit the brute's overextension.

Garok barely had time to react, twisting his massive body just enough for Ruchir's blade to skim his armor instead of landing deep.

Still, the force of the strike left a mark, a shallow cut across Garok's side.

"Quick, aren't you?" Garok growled, rubbing the wound. "But you'll need more than that!"

Rarok stepped in now, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground as he brought his blade down in a hammering motion, aiming for Ruchir's head.

Ogre's Downfall Smash—a crushing blow meant to end the fight in one strike. But Ruchir saw it coming.

Instead of retreating, Ruchir stepped forward into the attack's range, his body flowing like water.

At the last second, he spun to the side, the massive blade barely missing him, and then, with a flash of light, he countered with his technique, Silent Void Pierce, a lightning-fast thrust aimed directly at Rarok's torso.

Rarok grunted in surprise, but his reaction was quick, twisting his body just enough that Ruchir's blade glanced off his armor instead of puncturing through. Still, the force of the blow made him stagger back.

"Persistent little insect!" Rarok spat, his eyes narrowing.

But the Twin Ogre Blades weren't done with their psychological warfare. Garok laughed again, stepping back into the fray, circling Ruchir like a predator.

"You know, Ruchir," Garok began, his voice low and mocking, "people like you never learn. You keep holding onto your noble ideals, thinking you can defeat us with your righteousness. But out here? It's the survival of the fittest. No one cares about your ideals when you're dead."

Rarok chimed in with a sinister chuckle. "Honor, righteousness—those are just words used by the weak to comfort themselves before they die."

Ruchir's grip on his sword tightened, but his expression remained calm. "Honor and righteousness aren't meant to be understood by everyone. They're for those who know the true weight of power."