CHAPTER 65: THE FIRST STRIKE

Boom!

The ground cracked like shattered glass as Tugnier landed, the weight of his massive frame sending tremors through the battlefield.

Whoosh!

A gust of air rippled outward from the impact, flattening loose sand and rattling nearby armor. The faint crackle of thunder danced around his legs before fading, leaving only the heavy sound of his footsteps as he began to move forward.

In a single jump, Tugnier had crossed to the other side of the battlefield.

The battlefield of roughly 500 acres.

He now stood on the far side, a silent storm in motion, his heavy club resting on his shoulder, his gaze fixed ahead.

Before him stood a massive lizard beast, easily as tall as a small house, its green scales glistening under the sun.

Its nostrils flared softly with each breath, yet it didn’t move.

Lined up on both sides of the creature were elite SBV guards, men in dark silver armor with the eagle insignia gleaming on their chests.

Above the mark, the small badges declared their rank is high enough that others would normally bow in their presence.

But right now, none of them dared to move.

Their faces were pale, eyes locked forward, pretending not to notice the towering orc walking toward them.

But their bodies told the truth, trembling legs, clenched jaws, beads of sweat rolling down their cheeks.

Tugnier passed between them without so much as a glance. To him, they weren’t worth even a second of his attention.

He stopped in front of the lizard, its head lowering slightly as if it sensed the tension in the air. Tugnier tilted his head, resting the heavy club against his shoulder once more.

"You seem slim and tiny," Tugnier rumbled, his voice deep enough to stiffen the soldiers he passed by. "For all the rumors I’ve heard about you."

Atop the lizard, lounging lazily, was a woman. Her hand lifted above her head, holding a slender vine with a single grape still dangling from it.

Her tongue flicked out, tracing the curve of the grape before curling around it. With a small pop

, the grape vanished between her pink lips.

She looked down at Tugnier, her lips curving into a slow smile as she set the grapevine aside onto a silver plate.

With a soft, fluid motion, she uncoiled her legs and slid off the creature’s back.

"Wooshh"

She landed lightly on the sand, yet even her graceful descent carried power, a small shockwave rippled through the red dust beneath her.

She wore a bold black outfit that looked both elegant and daring. The shiny fabric hugged her body closely, showing off her shape. The design was open on the sides and front, revealing a lot of skin, leaving not much to imagination around her chest.

Soft purple feathers decorated her shoulders and the ends of the outfit. The long slit on the side showed off her legs, she wore sheer black stockings that ran up her legs, the top edges just visible where the long slit opened, which made her legs stand out even more.

The outfit flowed lightly with her movements. She wore black high heels that made her look taller.

She raised her fingers, licking off the faint trace of grape juice that still glistened there, her voice smooth and teasing as she spoke.

"And you’re too big for my taste~" she purred, her tone slow and sultry, the words curling through the air.

Then her eyes moved over him. The scars, the thick arms, the corded muscles, packed torso.

"But~" she continued, her lips curling into a knowing smile as her gaze lingered on his chest. "You might not be so~ bad~."

"Sorry, but I don’t fuck tiny mosquitos. I squash them to the ground." Tugnier said, his words were a rumble; the veins in his arms tightened and thunder trembled along his muscles like lightning under skin.

"Hahann~" Merin only smiled, a slow, sultry curl of lips as she drew her twin daggers in a flash.

They were longer than normal daggers but shorter than a full sword, wicked and cruel-looking.

The blades glinted darkly; faint runes and tiny reservoirs hid near the tips. These were A-rank tools built to bleed the target to death slowly, poison to sap the body, toxins that numbed the limbs, little horrors that turned a clean cut into a long, cruel death.

That was Merin’s style: quick, surgical, and exquisitely torturous.

Black aura spilled from her like smoke. It danced and hissed in the air.

They closed the gap in a blink.

Blue and black sparks tore the air as Merin and Tugnier blurred into motion. Wind and thunder met in a hot braid of power, and the battlefield seemed to freeze around their clash.

"Hahah~" Merin laughed like a miniac, a high, bright note that carried over the rising wind.

She drove both daggers in a vertical strike. Tugnier met her with his club. Blue sparks burst from his aura where steel met wood; black sparks answered in a cruel counterpoint.

Their weapons collided. The impact sent shards of power down in every direction. Sparks that struck the sand sizzled and left small, smoking craters. The force of each blow shook the ground beneath their feet.

Around them, SBV soldiers watched with a mix of awe and terror. Those without aura at all simply folded, their bodies could not take the pressure; they fainted where they stood.

The stronger ones, those who had woken even a sliver of aura, stayed upright but on their knees, breath raw and ragged.

They were conscious, but only barely, the clash between these two master’s aura users hammered at their minds like a drum.

Still, even with fear bubbling under their skin, hope flickered in them. They had followed Merin into impossible fights before; she had always delivered results. Her name was a promise to them. Even now, seeing her locked with the colossal orc above the field, their faith kept their eyes open. These were men and women who had seen her win time and again.

But then the blue sparks pushed against the black, driving Merin back. She skidded across the red sand, heels gouging shallow furrows; her back arched as she pressed her daggers to the ground, chest thrust out, daggers glittering.

The kneeling soldiers watched, hearts in their throats. Merin is pushed back?

The thought slid like ice down their spines. They knew, cold and clear, that whoever lost this duel would doom their side.

Merin straightened, breathing steady. She drew the tip of a dagger to her lip and licked it, a careless, dangerous motion.

"Uhmnn~" she hummed, voice soft. "You are strong~ I’ll give you that."

Tugnier pushed off the sand and came forward, thunder humming along his limbs.

Up close, the two of them looked like opposite poles: Merin, lithe and quick, black wind coiling around her; Tugnier, a living storm, slow-moving but impossible to stop once his weight fell into a strike.

On paper their aura and mana mastery were almost the same, neither had a real edge there.

The difference lived in pure, brutal numbers.

Tugnier carried more stamina, more raw endurance, and strength packed into a frame like a battering ram. Remove their divine gifts and magical tricks for a moment, and that raw mass of power still favored him in a clash or a long, grinding fight.

Merin smiled, the smile of someone who enjoys a challenge. "But you won’t win," she declared, voice smooth as silk.

Tugnier’s grin spread wider, slow and calm.

"Loser’s tantrum," he baited.

Merin didn’t bite. She was too sharp to tumble for a 2/10 rage bait.

Instead she moved with a quiet, practiced grace, reached to her belt, and pulled out a small black cube.

The cube unfolded like a living thing, growing and flattening until it became a dark, translucent box that swallowed her whole.

The cube shimmered with wards; light bent at its edges.

Nothing could pass through it from either direction.

"If you don’t hurry and kill me," Merin said from inside the cube, leaning forward slightly, breasts hanging suspended, one hand resting at her waist as if she were merely teasing, "your army will be massacred in no time."

Her tone was casual, but every word carried a threat.

"Tormund, my second in command, will cut off your soldiers from the rear. Oken and Fiona will finish your commanders, then they’ll join me." Her smile widened. "With their help and the priests’ endless healing, it won’t be long before I tear you into pieces."

Fiona, as a martial artist, possessed far greater stamina than even Merin herself. Her body was built for endurance, for drawn-out battles where most would have long since fallen.

The only thing holding her back was her aura; still at the Intermediate stage, it wasn’t strong enough to face the same enemies Merin could.

But as support? With that monstrous stamina of hers, she could easily keep Tugnier occupied.

And with Oken’s mastery of the sword beside her, their combined strength would definitely bring the mountain down.

Merin was deadly confident in her speed. if Tugnier tried to run for his commanders, she would outpace him.

But Tugnier just stood there. He did not smash the cube. He did not attempt to break the barrier with brute strength, and he did not charge blindly for his commanders like he did in Rune’s past life.

He simply watched, shoulders relaxed, grin still on his face like a man listening to a bad joke.

Merin’s smile flickered.

Something about his stillness unsettled her.

She then saw Tugnier grinning at something.

She followed his gaze and saw Kevin barreling across the sand toward her position.

He should have been at the healer camp.. why was he running out here? Her brow tightened; something about this set off a small, cold alarm in her instincts.

She was worried Tugnier might kill Kevin for a second but..

There was no obvious gain for Tugnier in hunting down a mere novice. Still, the sight put a frown on her face.

"What is it?" she snapped, irritation flaring at the thought that a subordinate had abandoned his post.

"Commander Merin," Kevin panted as he skidded to a halt, voice ragged from the run. "Suspicious activity at the healing camp. A dark-haired woman was tampering with the Prismal Conduits."

Merin’s eyes narrowed. Lydia, that fit the report. Only she can pull off such a stealth mission.

But Fiona had already signalled engagement with Lydia, so the pieces didn’t sit right.

She was about to bark an order for Kevin to report back to Fiona...

"Run to Fio–"

But everything changed in a single, brutal instant.

Tugnier folded his huge fist like a closing trap. Next instant the ground beside Kevin ripped up in two slabs of earth. They slammed together with a thunderous crack.

Kevin’s shout cut off. Sand and dust sprayed up.

The slabs separated a moment later, blood spiderwebbing between the two, leaving the man’s remains stick to the slab on a red splash, his armor caught on the broken stone.

A stunned hush fell across the battlefield. Merin’s confident smile thinned and dropped away.

Tugnier’s grin only widened, slow and terrible. He leaned forward, voice heavy with thunder.

"If you don’t kill me," he rumbled, "you’ll soon be facing three commanders along with a beauty and a lunatic. All at once."

The black cube around Merin dissolved like smoke. Her expression sharpened into something very serious.

A shifting fog of colors rose from her skin, coiling outward like living mist.

The easy cruelty in her eyes was gone for the moment, replaced with the hard focus.

"Fine, let’s do it your way."