The relentless roar of the battle seemed to reverberate in Jay's skull as he stood beside Joan. His heart thundered, the heat of his own fury pumping through his veins. The deaths around him had ignited something deeper, something more primal—a fire that no longer sought to protect, but to destroy. The bloodshed, the screams—it all blurred together. His mind was no longer just thinking about survival; he was consumed by the need to end this, to bring an end to the endless killing.
Joan's blade was raised, her expression fierce but exhausted. Her body, though hardened by years of war, was beginning to show the toll. The bruises on her arms were darker now, the cuts more numerous. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but her eyes still burned with the same determination as when she had first stepped onto the battlefield. Her fighting style was a perfect complement to Jay's newfound fury. She cut with elegance, her moves flowing with deadly grace, while Jay was all power, his strikes heavy and brutal, driven by a force that felt as if it had been awakened from deep within his soul.
The enemy knights closed in on them, their armor clanking like the ringing of a death toll. The stench of sweat and blood filled the air as their dark faces, obscured by helmets, loomed closer. A spear was thrust toward Joan, but she blocked it with a precise swing, the spear breaking in two like a twig snapped underfoot.
Jay didn't wait to see the result. He lunged forward with a roar, his sword carving through the night air with deadly intent. A knight tried to block with a shield, but Jay's strike shattered it like glass. He didn't give the man time to react, his sword slashing through the soldier's chest with the speed of a predator claiming its prey.
Behind him, another knight swung a massive axe toward Joan's head. She ducked just in time, and Jay, seeing her peril, spun around and surged at the assailant. His sword cleaved through the man's torso, cutting through armor like paper. The man's body crumpled in a grotesque heap, blood spurting from his mangled form. The stench of death grew stronger.
The two of them moved in a deadly dance—Joan's blade flashing through the air, her strikes elegant and fast, while Jay's blows were heavy and merciless. The combination of their fighting styles left the enemy little chance to retaliate. But even as the bodies piled up around them, Jay couldn't ignore the heavy weight in his chest—the gnawing feeling that no matter how many they killed, it would never be enough.
As if reading his thoughts, Joan caught his gaze. Her face was grim, but there was an understanding there. She knew the price of this war, the sacrifice it demanded, the blood it required to keep pushing forward.
"We end this tonight," she said, her voice low, barely audible over the chaos.
Jay nodded, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. His fingers were slick with the blood of the slain, but he didn't care. The Arc blood within him burned hotter, pushing him beyond human limits. The pain of his comrades' deaths, the endless killing, had become part of him. His emotions had hardened into a cold, calculated focus. But Joan—Joan was still the tether, the anchor. She was the light in the dark, the only thing keeping him from losing himself entirely.
"Let's finish it," he murmured, his voice dark but resolute.
Without warning, a roar erupted from the far side of the battlefield. It was loud enough to shake the ground beneath their feet, sending ripples of unease through the ranks of the fighting soldiers. From the thick smoke and dust of the war's frontlines, a massive figure emerged—a man clad in black armor, his sword shining with a dark, eerie light.
Jay's heart skipped a beat. He could feel the weight of this man's presence. It wasn't just that he was physically imposing—no, this knight radiated an aura of power that matched his own growing abilities. This man was no mere soldier.
This was the leader of the Black Order.
The soldiers around them paused for a split second, a collective sense of fear rippling through their ranks. Even Joan faltered for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she sized up the approaching warrior.
"Stay close," Jay whispered to her, his voice a mix of command and urgency.
She gave him a brief, sharp nod, and together, they moved to face the looming figure.
The Black Order's leader was colossal, towering over everyone else on the battlefield. His face was obscured by a dark helm, his eyes glowing with an unnatural intensity. His armor was black, as if forged from the darkest of metals, and his sword was twice the length of any normal blade, an ominous, jagged weapon that pulsed with malevolent energy.
With a single, swift motion, the Black Order knight swung his sword, cleaving through the air like a massive, dark crescent. His strike was aimed directly at Jay, a killing blow that would slice through him with little effort.
But Jay was no longer the same boy who had first stepped into battle. His body moved with an unnatural speed, his instincts guiding him to evade the deadly arc of the sword just in time. The force of the swing still sent a shockwave through the air, and Jay felt it rattle his bones, but he was unharmed.
Joan took advantage of the opening, charging forward with a battle cry. Her blade flashed, striking at the Black Order knight's exposed side. But the knight was faster than he seemed, twisting his body with inhuman agility and parrying her attack effortlessly.
Jay watched, his mind racing. They couldn't keep up with this man—not like this. They needed to end it, needed to find a way to break his defense.
A sickening realization began to dawn on Jay. He had been running on pure rage and the awakening of his Arc blood, but this knight... he was something else. He wasn't just strong; he was a product of dark forces—dark magic. And it was far beyond anything Jay had ever encountered.
In a moment of clarity, Jay's gaze locked onto Joan's face. For a brief second, their eyes met, and he saw the same understanding reflected in her expression. They couldn't fight him alone.
Together, they would have to fight the darkness that loomed before them.