The Tale of The Fallen Primordial

The Duke lunged at Noir with terrifying speed, his movement a blur of raw, destructive force. His fist connected with Noir's chest, the impact resonating like a thunderclap across the battlefield. The force hurled Noir backward, his body spinning uncontrollably before slamming into the ground with devastating power. The earth cracked beneath him, creating a crater that spread like fractured glass.

Dust and debris rose in choking plumes, obscuring the battlefield in a thick veil of chaos. But the Duke didn't wait for clarity. His movements were eerily precise, almost graceful, as he leaped toward Zuka, who hovered mid-air, his golden eyes narrowed with focus.

Zuka twisted in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding the Duke's initial attack. The two collided in a vicious flurry of blows, their strikes resonating like distant thunder. Each punch and kick created shockwaves that rippled through the sky, scattering clouds and causing the earth below to tremble.

Zuka pressed forward with precision, his body a blur of motion. He started with a quick jab to the Duke's face, his knuckles snapping out like a whip. The strike landed cleanly, drawing a flicker of irritation from the Duke. Zuka followed it with another jab, faster this time, aimed at the same spot. The repetition disoriented the Duke, forcing him to flinch.

Without missing a beat, Zuka pivoted, planting his back foot and delivering a powerful cross punch with his dominant hand. The force of the strike connected with the side of the Duke's jaw, sending a sharp crack echoing through the air. The Duke stumbled, blood dripping from his nose, but Zuka wasn't finished.

He closed the distance again, his movements sharp and relentless. A left hook came next, targeting the Duke's ribs with enough force to make the towering figure flinch. The hook was followed by another jab, and then Zuka ended the sequence with an uppercut, his fist rising like a hammer beneath the Duke's chin.

The Duke reeled, a snarl tearing from his throat as he staggered back. But even dazed, he retaliated.

With a roar, the Duke launched into the air, twisting his body mid-leap. He executed a double taekwondo kick, the first kick snapping out at Zuka's ribs, the second aimed directly at his head. The force of the kicks created a sharp gust of wind that rippled outward.

Zuka brought his arms up just in time, his forearms absorbing the brunt of the impact. The sheer force sent him sliding back through the air, his boots skidding against nothingness as he steadied himself. Then, with an almost mechanical precision, he surged forward again, driving a sharp jab toward the Duke's temple, a move meant to keep the Duke off balance.

The exchange was brutal, each strike calculated and devastating, the sky trembling as their battle raged.

Below, Noir stirred in the dust-filled chaos, his body twitching as life returned to his limbs. He lifted himself from the crater in one fluid motion, his form vanishing almost instantly into a blur of shadows. Streaks of black lightning danced across the air where he moved, crackling and hissing as he accelerated to impossible speeds.

Before the Duke could react, Noir reappeared in mid-air, a dark specter of malice. His crimson eyes gleamed with cold intent as his fist lashed out, faster than the Duke could track. The punch connected with brutal force, smashing into the Duke's face. The impact sent the Duke hurtling toward the ground like a meteor, his body crashing into the earth and creating another massive crater. Deep cracks spider-webbed outward from the point of impact, the ground trembling under the force.

The Duke groaned, his body twitching as he tried to rise. But Noir was already there.

In an instant, Noir appeared above him, streaks of black lightning trailing his form like malevolent tendrils. His movements were so fast, so precise, that they seemed almost ethereal. He landed gracefully, his boots kicking up loose debris as he stood over the Duke with a predatory gleam in his crimson eyes.

For a moment, the battlefield stilled, the air charged with tension. Noir and the Duke locked eyes, their mutual hatred palpable, suffocating. The ground itself seemed to shudder beneath the weight of their silent confrontation.

Zuka hovered above, his golden gaze shifting from the Duke to the towering Morenthain tree in the distance. This tree… it's untouched. How is that possible? I expected damage, at least. How does a human wield such immense power?

His thoughts sharpened, his priorities shifting. Noir can handle the Duke for now. But this tree—it's the key to his control over the city. If I can destroy it… no, wait. Elyndris. I must find him first.

Sensing the rising storm of energy between Noir and the Duke, Zuka took the moment to vanish. A burst of golden light streaked through the air as he sped toward the distant corridors, his movements silent and precise. He would search for Elyndris while Noir kept the Duke occupied.

The Duke spat blood as he pushed himself to his feet, his face twisting with venomous rage. His pride lay in tatters, and the fury in his aura seemed to ignite the very air around him.

"You won't leave this city alive," he hissed, his voice sharp and jagged like shattered glass.

Noir tilted his head, his grin returning, sharp and cold. His voice was soft, almost mocking. "Alive? You misunderstand, Duke. I never planned to leave quietly. The question is whether you will live to see the sunrise."

The Duke roared, his aura exploding outward like a storm, but Noir didn't move. The crackling shadows surrounding him only grew darker, deeper, as his crimson gaze bore into the Duke.