Rebirth: Necromancer's Ascenscion-Chapter 103: A Strange Opponent

The man’s body trembled.

Yet somehow, he stood tall again.

"The blade," he said, his voice cracked but still deliberate. "That wasn’t even you losing control."

"No," Ian said.

The red-cloaked man stared. There was something akin to reverence in his gaze now. Like a cultist who had just glimpsed his god and survived.

Then he laughed again—but this time, it was hollow.

———

The air broke.

The silence that followed Ian’s hundred cuts had not lasted long.

The stranger stood amid the splintered ruin of the forest, blood staining his robes, but the grin on his face remained unwavering.

He exhaled slowly, flexing his fingers as if waking them from slumber. Red mist wafted from his cloak, coiling upward like slips of sentient smoke.

"Well," he said, tilting his head back. "That certainly lived up to the rumors."

Ian did not answer.

He stood still as stone, one hand on the hilt of Judgment, the other relaxed by his side. His gaze was calm, unreadable.

"But..." the stranger whispered, his voice slipping into a deeper register, almost delighted, "...it would be a shame for this encounter to end in mere philosophy."

He stepped forward.

The earth caved beneath his heel.

In a breath, he vanished.

Ian’s eyes barely tracked the blur of movement before a blow struck him square in the chest.

A shockwave thundered outward, flattening what remained of the surrounding forest.

Ian was sent flying, his body crashing through the base of a tree and splintering through stone. He rolled, then rose, his eyes already burning with Voidlight.

The stranger appeared in mid-air above him, mana coalescing in his hands.

He dropped like a hawk.

Ian dodged the first strike, deflecting the second with the edge of Judgment. Sparks flew. The forest dimmed. And the fight began in full.

Steel met shadow, and fury met silence.

The stranger fought like a dancer from a old mean long forgotten—fluid, impossible, and swift beyond logic.

Every movement was a flourish, every strike a question with a fatal answer. His red blades wove intricate patterns, slicing through stone, air, and tree alike.

But Ian answered in kind.

With every swing of Judgment, entire swathes of the battlefield were cleaved asunder.

The blade moved with impossible grace, arcs of pure shadow trailing behind it. Each swing collapsed pressure into reality, like gravity itself obeyed his command.

A backhand slash erupted the ground beneath them.

The stranger flipped backward, dragging his blades along the dirt, causing crimson runes to erupt in a perfect circle. Ian burst forward—too late.

The runes flared, and the trap triggered.

Chains of red light speared from the runes, binding Ian’s limbs in an instant.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" the stranger whispered, appearing beside him. "Perks of an ancient bloodline"

Ian’s eyes flared.

Crack.

The chains snapped.

Judgment surged in a full arc, nearly taking the man’s arm with it. He phased backward in a shimmer of smoke, panting slightly now.

Ian stepped forward.

"You play with stolen powers," he said flatly. "But lack the discipline to master them."

The stranger’s grin widened.

"I don’t need mastery. Just results."

He slammed both palms to the ground. The earth beneath Ian erupted—not in fire, but in reversed gravity. Ian was launched upward, spinning into the canopy. The stranger followed, his blades extending into twin whips of red energy.

They clashed mid-air.

A storm of blades.

Each strike cast shockwaves that splintered the nonexistent clouds. Trees below snapped under the pressure. Air crackled above, summoned not by weather, but by magic made volatile through pure power.

Ian twisted through the air, catching a descending strike on the flat of Judgment, before rotating and driving a kick directly into the man’s ribs.

He was sent hurtling downward, crashing through three layers of forest before cratering into the earth.

But he rose again.

His robe was now torn, his chest bleeding openly. He coughed, spat, and smiled.

"You’re holding back," he called up.

Ian descended slowly, landing like a falling god. His eyes were alight with silent wrath.

"So are you," he said.

The stranger tilted his head.

"Perhaps. But this is just a preview, isn’t it? A taste. A whisper. A warning."

Red glyphs ignited behind him—and then the world moved again.

They clashed once more, this time without pause.

Their battle spanned across miles of broken earth and ash-smeared hills. Entire groves were reduced to splinters. The sky cracked above them as Ian unleashed a wave of Soulessence, enough to fold sound.

And still the man came, faster, hungrier, pushing Ian to deeper and darker technique.

Ian swept Judgment in a wide arc, the black edge rippling with soul fire. The stranger backstepped—but a sliver of his cloak was severed, disintegrating on the wind.

He landed and raised a palm.

A red star ignited behind him.

"Let’s see you block this."

He thrust forward—and the star detonated.

The explosion carved a trench in the world. A thousand crimson blades spiraled outward like wings of ruin.

Ian stepped forward.

One swing.

Judgment fell.

The explosion split.

The blades shattered.

A wave of black energy cleaved through the red star and extinguished it utterly.

Silence followed.

The stranger stood across the clearing, breathing harder now. His eyes danced, wild with exhilaration.

Then he sheathed his weapons.

Ian blinked, expression unchanged.

"You’re done?"

The man nodded slowly, then cracked his neck. freewebnoveℓ.com

"I’ve seen enough for today. Any more and I might lose something important."

He stepped back.

The mist coiled at his feet.

"We will meet again," he said, voice low and resolute. "At the First Descent Tournament. Don’t be late."

Ian did not speak.

Only watched.

And in a breath, the man was gone.

Not vanished. Not teleported.

Gone.

The forest wept around Ian.

The trees moaned, bent and broken. The sky remained fractured above as i always were.

And in the silence that followed, Ian remained still.

Judgment hummed in his grip.

He looked toward the horizon, and for the first time in a long while, narrowed his eyes with something akin to anticipation.