"Ahh!" The excruciating pain from his earlier injuries flared up once again. The sheer agony felt almost unbearable. Every agonizing step sent shockwaves of white-hot torture through his battered frame, threatening to buckle his knees, but his sheer willpower kept him moving forward. Gritting his teeth, Young stubbornly trudged toward his ally.
It seemed Nect had spotted his approach and recognized the immense physical toll Young was enduring. Adjusting his strategy, Nect focused his entire assault on the high-class soul being, intentionally leaving the low-class stiletto-wielder for Young to finish off. This lesser creature was already quite frail, looking even weaker now than during its initial ambush.
It wasn't physical exhaustion—Young knew for a fact that soul beings didn't experience traditional fatigue. Rather, the creature was severely depleted because it had squandered the last of its dark energy in a completely futile attempt to inflict any meaningful damage upon the elusive Nect.
Come to think of it, as Young shot a sideways glance at Nect, he was vividly reminded of just how flawless and completely devoid of injury the youth's body truly was. It looked almost as if he hadn't been locked in a life-or-death struggle against two soul beings this entire time.
Yet, the reality was entirely the opposite. Despite the relentless onslaught, Nect hadn't sustained a single scratch.
However, his immunity to damage came at a visible cost. He looked utterly spent; his skin was deathly pale, a thick sweat drenched his brow, and his limbs trembled violently. His arms hung like useless lead weights at his sides, completely drained of the vital stamina required to mount even a basic counteroffensive.
It was painfully evident that Nect couldn't attack even if his life depended on it; he was simply too physically depleted to act. Young genuinely felt it was an absolute miracle that Nect was even capable of standing upright, let alone continuing to seamlessly evade the heavy, incoming strikes of the high-class soul being.
Witnessing Nect's bloodshot, heavily bagged eyes, Young immediately grasped the perilous situation his ally was in. It was a desperate state of exhaustion, and Nect could collapse at any moment if he were forced to continue evading danger.
Tearing his focus away, Young redirected his attention and launched a furious onslaught against the weakened, low-class soul being.
Though the agony of his own injuries still ravaged his body, Young's sheer determination made him slightly faster than his depleted opponent.
With a rapid succession of heavy blows, the low-class soul being staggered and crashed to the floor. Refusing to grant his enemy a single pocket of breathing room, Young moved in like a relentless apex predator to seal its fate.
Before the creature could muster enough energy to stand, Young kicked its skull furiously from left to right. He then brought his leg high into the air and drove his heel down with crushing force, completely bashing the soul being's skull inward. With that final, brutal strike, another low-class soul being was utterly destroyed.
Sensing that the low-class soul being had finally been defeated, Nect managed a faint, wry smile. However, mere moments after the creature was destroyed, Nect's remaining strength evaporated, and he collapsed heavily to the floor.
Recognizing a golden opportunity to finish off its target, the high-class soul being that had been contending with Nect lunged forward, aiming to execute the defenseless youth once and for all.
But Young was already moving, his instinctual reflexes overriding the searing agony in his limbs as he threw himself across the dirt to intercept the strike. The very instant the monster stepped closer to deliver the fatal blow, its massive weapon was violently deflected, clashing with a stiletto that Young had deftly wielded in the nick of time.
Young could practically feel the raw hatred burning within the high-class soul being's mind; the creature radiated immeasurable contempt toward the insect who had dared to steal its prey. The weapon wielded by the monster was a massive machete.
While fundamentally similar to a sword, it differed vastly in its broad geometry, front-loaded weight distribution, and the sheer kinetic force required to wield it effectively in combat.
Because of its heavy, top-balanced design, the blade excelled at fracturing bone and delivering devastating, concussive strikes that could simultaneously stun and cleave an opponent in two.
However, the machete's greatest weakness was its cumbersome weight. Unlike a nimble stiletto or a short sword, it could not effortlessly dish out rapid, consecutive attacks. Even renowned warriors who had mastered the art of balancing different blade weights could not fully escape the stamina toll a heavy machete demanded.
These critical limitations were exactly what Young was tracking. The moment he spotted a brief lapse in the creature's momentum, he seized the opportunity, hoping to end the high-class soul being's tyranny once and for all.
However, to Young's profound dismay, the soul being possessed an uncanny attribute that completely nullified the machete's restrictive weight. The monster swung the heavy blade with effortless grace, manipulation so fluid it was as if the metal possessed no mass at all.
Consequently, Young was thrown into a severe disadvantage. He was already grievously injured, his body a map of bleeding lacerations. Every impact vibrated violently through his fractured bones, causing his vision to swim as his stamina rapidly leaked into the dirt beneath his feet.
He groaned and grimaced, clearly agonizing under the relentless physical strain, yet he somehow managed to successfully parry and evade attack after attack.
They were locked in a desperate, grinding stalemate—a terrible position for Young, who had no idea how much longer his failing reflexes could withstand such kinetic force. The situation grew even more grim as he realized the soul being was deliberately playing a war of attrition.
The creature was purposefully driving him to the absolute brink, fully expecting him to eventually collapse under the relentless pressure, treating Young's ultimate demise as an absolute inevitability.
Young's fears were entirely well-founded. Although two of the lesser soul beings had been successfully destroyed, they were still surrounded by a trio of exceptionally harrowing high-class monsters, and the one directly ahead was on the absolute cusp of defeating him. Something had to change immediately.
As if mirroring his desperate thoughts, the battlefield shifted violently as a halberd shot like a missile straight toward the melee.
Before the flying weapon could pierce him, a commanding voice pierced the chaos, roaring a single word: "DUCK!"
Caught in a lethal crossfire, Young had no time to analyze the identity of his savior or question the tactical logic of dropping low while a blade swung before his face. Instinct overrode intellect, and he threw himself flat against the earth. He was profoundly grateful he obeyed without hesitation. The very instant his head cleared the trajectory, the roaring halberd whistled past his ear and zipped forward, zoning in directly on the high-class soul being he had been battling with such immense difficulty.
Young watched in awe as an ominous, pitch-black light faded out of the high-class soul being he had been struggling against, signaling its definitive demise. He felt an overwhelming wave of elation, his mind reeling as he questioned the surreal sequence of events that had just occurred.
Against all odds, they had prevailed over the five soul beings that had ganged up against them. They had even proven resilient enough to turn the tide, launching a successful counterattack to wipe out the remaining entities. What surprised Young most of all was the realization that he had faced a high-class soul being in single combat and emerged victorious.