His blue eyes, now stained with the color of his own blood, gleamed with an unsettling intensity.
His once-silver hair had transformed, now bearing a deep crimson hue that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. A wide, psychotic smile spread across his injured face as his power began to grow at an astronomical level.
The mere pressure of his mana was suffocating, forcing me to my knees as I struggled to breathe.
Two angelic wings, as red as onyx and hard as diamond, erupted from his back, curving in a majestic shape that seemed designed for mid-air maneuverability.
In his right hand, a bow materialized, while a crimson arrow took shape in his left. The wounds that had previously ravaged his body had vanished, leaving him looking as unscathed as ever.
His now-crimson hair flowed in the gentle breeze, as if mocking the chaos that surrounded us.
With a graceful flutter of his wings, Maxwell soared above Einar, casting a magnificent shadow of his angelic form on the ground below. I was at a loss for words, unable to describe the sheer magnitude of what I was witnessing.
Before me stood two beings, each exuding an aura of unparalleled power. Einar, with his dark black hair and purple highlights, stood tall, his face as sharp and emotionless as a blade. His eyes gleamed with an otherworldly glow, imbuing him with an aura that was hard to describe. If I had to choose a single word, I would say DEATH himself.
In stark contrast, the blood-born angel, Maxwell, floated above him, his crimson hair and stained blue eyes radiating an aura of cold vengeance. His wings seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light, as if infused with the very essence of the divine. His expression was icy, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.
Crunching his fist together and covering it with his shadow, Einar launched a devastating punch that split the skies in two.
However, Maxwell seemed unfazed, choosing instead to take the attack head-on. The punch had no discernible effect on him.
Einar's smile grew wider as he quickly retreated, creating distance between the two combatants. He indicated to Maxwell that he was ready for an attack, and the blood-born angel responded by drawing his bow and firing a mighty arrow. Einar stood ready to block it, but the arrow unexpectedly split into four individual projectiles.
This caught Einar off guard, and he was attacked from four different angles at once. The impact sent a tremendous amount of force crashing down, pushing me back. As I regained my footing, I witnessed Einar standing tall, holding one of the four arrows in his hand while the other three either missed or were destroyed completely.
It was clear that these two were gauging each other's strength, exchanging blows in a battle that seemed to defy the very fabric of reality and logic.
Snapping back into reality, I watched in awe as the blood-born angel fired another mighty arrow into the sky.
This time, it split into ten individual arrows, which further divided into another ten, until there were around fifty arrows in total. The arrows rained down like hellfire, forcing me to rush to the others and cover them, desperate to protect them from the onslaught.
Einar witnessed this and, without any apparent effort, commanded our shadows as though they were his own. He pulled our shadows from our very feet and used them to create a protective barrier around us. The barrier was somewhat transparent, yet it still held the essence of a darkness.
As I looked above us, I saw that the arrows were unable to break through the barrier. Glancing around, I witnessed the devastation caused by the other arrows. My heart broke into pieces as I took in the sheer scale of the destruction. The arena, as well as the environment outside, now resembled a desolate wasteland.
With the only other shadow available, Einar manifested a blade and charged at Maxwell. The two combatants clashed, exchanging blows with a speed and ferocity that left me struggling to keep up. Each slash caused an impact that tore the ground in half and destroyed the surroundings.
If it weren't for Einar's mighty barrier, we would most certainly be dead. The battle raged on, with neither side giving an inch, as the very fabric of reality seemed to bend and warp around them.