Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

“Two to go”, were big words he came to regret. After killing his original opponent in a surprise attack, he now found himself to be the main focus for the two newcomers, and neither of them was weaker than the swordsman cultivator.

Since their comrade was dead, he now faced both of them at the same time. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to get rid of the weakest threat... but at the time he felt it was better than having to fight all three later on.

While the bloke kept driving him back with powerful club techniques, the female cultivator would wait for openings to start sneak attacks like her original attack, when she stabbed him through the gaps in his armor. it didn't help his concentration, that the banging echoing through the city kept becoming louder.

The fiery swordsman was able to survive, but he wasn't doing well in the two-on-one. Many of his skills needed a certain initial time or sequence to show their full effect, which he wasn't given. He mostly relied on <Swordsmanship (Expert)> and the effects of White Hilt to keep his own in the unfair fight.

~Let's do that! I'm sure it will give us a chance!~ White Hilt suggested to use the strongest skill it had.

~You are right. I doubt it could kill either of them, but I'm sure it will give us an opportunity.~ the swordsman agreed.

Although it was not the first White Hilt, that Edward currently used, it was the second and was originally wielded by Marco. It didn't share the legendary material or Ixion's enchantment, but it was almost identical in every other aspect, such as-

“<Ember Rain>!” Marcel exclaimed the name of the skill, using it together with White Hilt.

it also had <Ember Rain>, a skill that resembled the spell of Fire Rain, then summoned down a rain of fireballs in a limited area of effect, as the name suggested. However, coupled with the blessing of Feia and <Fire Affinity>-

Massive fireballs came falling from the sky, like the burning parts of orbital trash that fell to the planet's surface. The impacts destroyed surrounding buildings and blew craters in the street. It took five seconds to completely channel the skill before Marcel was able to move. This seemed like an eternity in a high-octane battle, but his opponents had other problems.

Swinging his club, the bloke actually parried one of the embers, only to be enveloped by a bloom of fire and it exploded. Even if it didn't end him, it was hard to believe he would get unscathed. The female similarly, was busy evading the falling debris of the building collapsing left and right.

The moment the five seconds were over, Marcel charged <Stischflamm> once again, aiming for the female cultivator emerging from the curtain of collapsing buildings. He vanished from where he stood, leaving a blazing trail behind him.

Blazing right past the woman, who made a step back at the last possible moment. She was smiling, ready to give a snarky comment when she realized that she had not evaded because of luck or skill. Marcel had his next skill already cocked and read.

With a wide swing of his black, he created a crescent of intensely glowing wire that grew in all directions and shot off from the four-meter-long flame sword in his hands. it was not just simply a wave of fire, as it combined the heat of the flame with the sharpness of the sword.

The air, the dust, surrounding debris of stone, would and steal, were cut and melted by the disk of sharp fire. The female cultivator had no time for an elegant evasion, as she jumped straight up in the air, making a hurried flip forward.

her roll on the ground was followed by a painful groan. She had been slightly too late, losing the tip of her left foot to the disk of fire. her dagger ready, her angry eyes focused on Marcel, she was ready to charge at and kill him with everything she had.

Again, too late. Now that Marcel had the chance, he was chaining his attacks one after the other. by the time she was back on her feet, White Hilt's <Burning Strike> was already descending on the top of her head.

She still tried to throw herself out of the way, succeeding it “only” losing her right arm, shoulder, and some bits of the torso. The right half of her body burning like tinder, she rolled over the ground, away from the swordsman.

Marcel clicked his tongue. When he followed after her to give her the final strike, he already saw that the attack would fail. In the shadows of the fire covering the street, he saw the figure of the bloke charging over with big, flowing steps.

His robes were burning, his flesh singed, and he was ignoring the fire and smoke on the street to come to her side and save his fellow disciple. It was almost touching if it wasn't for the fact that they were crazy murderers from Marcel's perspective.

If he followed through with his attack, he would receive the cudgel straight to the skull. He kinda doubted his survival of that attack. Change of plan, he aimed to confront the bloke, instead of ending the halved fairy. he would use his hurry to defend her. He would act like he didn't notice him, aim for the girl at first, and change the trajectory of his attack in the last moment, to stab the bloke right through his throat.

Just a few steps separated them from each other. Marcel was ready to yank up White Hilt to end the bloke when the debris and ruins to the left of them suddenly exploded. A cold wind blew over the street, creating a storm of fire and smoke, stopping either of the parties.

At the same time, the figure of a man was catapulted through the gap between Marcel and the two cultivators, creating a trench between them before coming to a halt. The fiery swordsman vigilantly glanced at the newcomer.

His robes were in tatters and a deformed silver mask hid half of what looked like a very handsome face, after a beating and suffering from frostbites. The two parties were still frozen in shock, trying to make heads and tails from the sudden change in the situation., when another figure came through the new opening in the ruins.

“Marcel! Are you okay?” Elza called out, her usually cold and emotional voice somewhat thawed in concern for her lover. His heart beat faster, recognizing her concerned face. he quickly wanted to tell her that he was okay, but he still had to watch out for the bloke and what seemed to be Elza's original opponent.

“I saw the ember rain coming down and thought you were in danger, “ she added when she found Marcel still standing upright with only minor wounds.

“It wasn't easy, but I managed against those three,” he explained a little embarrassed. Elza frowned.

<Ding! Elza has invited you to her party! Do you want to join Elza's party? Y/N>

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“Let's take them down together and-” she was in the middle of her sentence when Marcel suddenly charged at her. For a moment she thought he would hug her, but he actually parried a spike of dark red energy, the man on the ground shot her.

“To think you would ignore this one to flirt with your boy toy. I thought we had something special,” he stated as he released himself from the embrace of the ground and wiped the dust off his tattered robes.

She shot the man a frigid glance. “ Let's end these guys together and move on,” she finished her sentence as if she wasn't just interrupted rudely.

<You have joined Elza's party>

“Let's do it quickly.”