Power of Runes

Chapter 127: Mysterious Unknown?

Chapter 127: Mysterious Unknown?After that, they continued to fight for two consecutive days. Though, calling it a "fight" might be giving it too much credit.

In reality, it was more like one person constantly beating down the other, while the second did his best just to push back and hold his ground whenever he could.

That would probably be a more accurate way to describe what was happening.

"It’s getting boring now," Dark Ash said, his voice calm and flat, as he looked at Ash who was kneeling some distance away from him.

One of Ash’s legs was missing completely, and in its place was a shattered limb, broken like fragile glass.

His right eye, which had cracked like a mirror struck by a heavy ball, was slowly starting to regenerate, the pieces pulling back together as his soul tried to heal the damage.

The soul essence is almost used up...

Ash thought to himself. He had originally believed it would be enough to last at least five full days, but in just these last two, the constant clashes had left him injured again and again.

Each wound consumed more of the limited soul essence, making the pace at which it drained even faster than he had expected.

"So, what are you planning to do now?" Dark Ash asked, his expression unchanging.

Unlike Ash, his body was untouched, not even showing a single sign of fatigue or pain.

His soul had endured for centuries, shaped through time and endless torment, while Ash’s soul had never been strained to bear such assault.

And that became one of the most decisive factors between them.

I can’t win...

Ash reached that painful conclusion in silence. Even though his will manifestation had been strong enough to stand against Dark Ash for this long, it meant nothing in the end.

The injuries he dealt to Dark Ash healed without effort, while his own recovery relied entirely on the fast-diminishing soul essence.

And the worst part—Dark Ash wasn’t even dependent on that.

Even if this fight was taking place in the real world... I still would’ve lost, Ash admitted to himself.

The Divine Arts that Dark Ash used were terrifying.

Their strength was overwhelming, even too much for Ash to counter.

He had noticed a strange flaw in them, though—none of those techniques used any kind of external energy.

But that didn’t mean they were weak.

Dark Ash used emotions as fuel.

Every form he took was driven by a specific emotion—rage, regret, despair, and each of those emotions burned out quickly after use, limiting how long he could hold that form.

Because of that, Dark Ash couldn’t maintain a single Divine Form for longer than a minute or two at most.

And yet, even with that glaring weakness dragging him down, the battle had been nothing but completely one-sided from beginning to end.

The weight of defeat pressed down on Ash like a heavy fog that refused to lift.

No matter how strong his will burned inside, no matter how fiercely he clenched his fists or steeled his heart, Ash knew deep down that he could not change what was coming.

Not this time.

There were no cores inside his soul to overload, no hidden wells of power waiting to be drawn upon in some last desperate move.

He was completely helpless, trapped at this moment where every option seemed to slip through his fingers like water.

Dark Ash reached out without hesitation and grabbed Ash by the hair, pulling him close with an unforgiving grip.

Ash’s leg was still broken and healing from their earlier clash, so he did not resist.

He just watched with his emotionless eyes that showed nothing.

The Omni Thought, still active kept him calm even in this situation.

Only two minutes had passed in the outside world, but inside this strange soul space, where the mind had no physical body to tire or strain, Ash felt no exhaustion.

Time here felt different, stretched thin like a long shadow across a darkened sky.

"I will show you something new," Dark Ash said, his voice low and steady, carrying a quiet threat that filled the air.

"From the start, I was only using the first three forms of my arts to fight you. Do you know why I held back?"

Hearing those words, Ash’s eyes flashed with a coldness that cut sharper than any blade.

His hands moved swiftly and with purpose as his will gathered around Eclipse, the sword humming with invisible energy.

With a sudden slash, he cut through the hands that gripped his hair.

Ash stumbled forward as the arm holding him fell away, dropping into the black water beneath them.

Using Eclipse as a steady support, he pushed off with his good leg and steadied himself, ready to continue the fight.

"It does not matter what you do now. No one will save you from what’s coming," Dark Ash said, his tone calm but cruel as he reattached his fallen arm as if nothing had happened.

Ash quickly sharpened his senses, preparing to dodge whatever came next while his mind raced,

Instead, he looked up.

And stared deep into Dark Ash’s eyes, as if saying with his gaze alone—

I will die with my head held high.

And in that gaze, there was no despair.

Only pride.

Even if everything else failed, even if the world turned against him, even if his body shattered—he would not fall with his head bowed.

Dark Ash, seeing that fire in his eyes, accelerated the strike.

His hands, like a blade of death, moved to end it all.

But then—

Right before the blow could land—

A single, fragile hand reached out and blocked it.

There was no rebound, no shockwave, not even a sound.

The hand didn’t tremble.

It didn’t flinch.

It simply stopped the strike, as if the force behind it had been swallowed whole and erased from existence.

The silence that followed was so deep, it felt like time had frozen.

And then came a voice.

A soft voice.

A man’s voice.

But it wasn’t cold or proud—it was sweet, like a melody sung on a quiet night. The kind of voice that could pull someone out of the depths of despair and wrap them in warmth.

"Who knew it was me all along..."

***