Strongest Family System

The ground vibrated with intensity as Harden, James and Robert Osborn engaged in battle, their swords meeting in a flurry of sparks. Around them, dozens of warriors fought, trees splintered under stray strikes, and spells lit the air like storm fire-but none drew more eyes than the duel at the center.

Harden strikes came heavy, brutal, like hammers crashing against iron walls. His sword whistled through the air, following embers as his anger poured into every swing. Robert met each blow, feet sliding back across the soil, his sword flashing in precise arcs. He did not fight with raw power—he fought with rhythm, patience, and the deadly calm of someone who trusted his sword more than his own breath.

"You will break, Osborn!" Harden roared, his aura flashing crimson. With a quick twist of his shoulders, he sent forth a blazing, sweeping slash.

Harden used the Crimson Arc Slash sword technique.

The strike surged through the trees, a sweeping wave of crimson energy slicing through the trunks and sending bits of ground flying. Trees toppled, roots snapping like bones. Warriors on both sides scrambled away from their edge.

But Robert was already gone.

His form blurred, his breathing syncing perfectly with the rhythm of the surrounding ground. He used Shadow Step: Second Form—Breath Sync technique.

He slipped between heartbeats, his figure dissolving into the shifting air, reappearing just beyond the arc's destruction. A faint shimmer clung to his outline as though the ground itself exhaled him back into existence.

"Too slow," Robert said evenly, his eyes sharp.

Harden spun around just in time to face the counter. Robert's sword flowed like water, coiling around Harden's strike.

He said: Twin Dragon Fang Art: Second Form—Coiling Scales sword technique.

The sword moved like a serpent wrapping prey. Robert's sword intercepted Harden's downward strike, gliding along the blade's edge before landing a hit from an unexpected angle. Harden barely managed to lift his guard in time, and sparks flew as Robert's sword bit into his weapon, pushing him back several steps.

The watching warriors gasped. Harden's arms trembled from the precision of the technique; Robert had not only blocked but redirected his force back upon him.

"You depend on your anger," Robert stated, his voice unwavering and his breath controlled. "But anger burns out fast. My sword is patient, lurking, and it will hit you when you least see it coming."

Harden's lips peeled back in a snarl. Blood trickled down his arm where Robert's sword had torn through. "You dare lecture me?" His aura spread more aggressively, his sword blazing brighter. "Then i will burn out your calm with fire!"

He surged forward, blade arcing again and again, each strike followed by the whip-crack of crimson flame. Robert's shadowed steps carried him away from the worst of it, his movements weaving just outside Harden's fury, blade sliding along arcs in a dance of parries and counterthrusts.

Each time Robert's sword touched Harden's, it felt less like a collision and more like a web—an unseen coil tightening.

Elsewhere, the battle raged. Sarah's twin blades spun against Blake James's crushing broadsword, sparks cutting through the smoke. Essie ducked under Keith's daggers, her counterstrike leaving a streak of blood across his cheek. Sai's spear danced like a fierce storm against Liam's pair of axes, the sharp sound of splintering wood ringing out with each blow.

And high above, Elder Alex and Elder Adam traded spells that thundered across the canopy, lightning and light warring against each other.

But every ear strained toward Robert and Harden. Every eye flicked to where sparks leapt like fireflies around their clash.

Harden bellowed, his anger boiling over. He raised his blade overhead, aura igniting until the sword blazed like a molten arc. With a roar, he struck downward.

He said the CRIMSON ARC SLASH sword technique.

The ground split beneath the force. The ground bore deep scars from the flames, with soil bubbling up and trees snapping like they were nothing. Even Osborn warriors staggered under the shockwave.

For a heartbeat, it seemed unstoppable.

But Robert's chest rose once—slow, steady. His shadow seemed to sync with him. His feet slid across the soil as though carried by the wind itself.

He said: Shadow Step: Breath Sync.

He vanished, reappearing at Harden's side in the same heartbeat the slash ripped the ground apart.

Robert's sword coiled again, spiraling like the body of a dragon circling prey. Harden turned, too slow; his own sword caught and bound by the serpentine motion.

He used Twin Dragon Fang Art: Coiling Scales technique to trap Harden's blade, sliding around it, twisting, and then driving Robert's own strike upward. The sword slammed into Harden's chest plate, ripping through the armor with a piercing shriek.

Blood sprayed, the crimson arc collapsing into sparks as Harden staggered back, gasping.

The forest fell silent for a breath. Even the duels nearby faltered as eyes snapped to the sight—Harden James, injured and forced back.

Robert lowered his sword, his breathing controlled, his shadow still clinging faintly to his figure. His eyes were calm, sharp, and unwavering.

Harden's face showed a fierce combination of rage and hurt, with blood dripping from the cut. But his grip did not falter. He raised his sword again, his aura burning brighter.

"This is not finished," Harden snarled, voice ragged but strong. "I will tear you apart, Robert Osborn!"

Robert's gaze narrowed, the point of his sword steady.

"Then come again," he said, his voice quiet but unshaken. "i will coil, i will wait—and i will strike."

The forest appeared to hold its breath while the two warriors prepared to engage once more, their duel becoming the storm at the center of the fierce battle surrounding them.

The two men circled each other in the shattered clearing, the ground floor still smoking from Harden's last strike. His chest heaved, blood dripping steadily down his armor, yet his eyes burned like coals that refused to die.

Robert stood opposite him, twin swords in hand now, his shadow breathing with him as if alive, his aura steady as a heartbeat.

With a roar, Harden lunged. His crimson aura exploded outward, fueling one final slash meant to cut Robert in two. The air rippled with the sheer weight of it.

Robert did not flee.

His breath stilled, his body sliding into the rhythm that had carried him through every step of the battle. His swords coiled, flowing around Harden's strike as though they belonged to water and air rather than steel.

Robert used Twin Dragon Fang Art—Second Form: Coiling Scales Technique.

The first sword bound Harden's strike, sliding along its length like a serpent wrapping prey. The second sword followed in the same breath, curving upward in a mirrored coil. Harden's eyes widened as both swords spiraled past his guard.

Robert stepped in close.

Twin swords struck as one.

Swords pierced flesh—once, then twice. The sound was sickening, the echo cutting through the battlefield louder than a war horn. Harden's sword fell from his hands as Robert's swords drove deep through his chest, crossing like fangs closing around the heart.

For a moment, Harden's body jerked against the force. His crimson aura faltered, then shattered like glass. Blood sprayed, staining the soil red.

Robert pulled his swords free in a clean motion. Harden staggered, eyes wide with disbelief, before his body finally crumpled into the dirt.

The forest fell into stunned silence.

Osborn warriors roared with renewed strength, their cries cutting through the air. James's warriors froze, the sight of Harden's fall striking them harder than any blade.

Above, high in the sky where elders and leaders watched, Mathew James had seen everything.

His face twisted, not in sorrow but in pure, consuming fury. His aura surged like a storm, rattling the very air. The calm presence of an elder snapped apart, replaced by a wrath so sharp it seemed to scorch the heavens themselves.

"ROBERT OSBORN!" Mathew's voice thundered across the battlefield, carried above the clash of swords and cries of men.

His aura flared—Soul Manifestation, First Level.

The pressure was instant. Warriors on both sides stumbled, their knees nearly buckling as Mathew descended like a falling star, his power smothering the forest. Trees bent, branches tore loose, and the very ground trembled beneath the weight of his presence.

Robert raised his head, blood still dripping from his swords, his eyes locking on the Mathew James descent. Harden's body lay chilling at his feet, the silence of death stark against the storm now bearing down upon him.

With a deadly intent that could cut through the air, Mathew appeared above him. His fury was not just simple anger—it was a promise of total destruction.

With a flick of his wrist, his spear burst into flames, a red light spiraling along its shaft. The sky appeared to split as he launched the first attack, a sweeping motion designed to obliterate Robert in his place.

The ground erupted—trees splintering, soil tearing apart beneath the overwhelming power. Fighters on both sides reeled back, shielding their eyes from the dazzling light.

And in that moment, Robert Osborn found himself standing alone, facing the full force of Mathew James.