Dark Magus Returns -
Chapter 1617: Hurt Him!
The force coming from Gizin and his staff was overwhelming, far beyond anything Raze had felt in a long time. The strength radiating from each attack was formidable, crushing even from a distance. Right now, Raze wasn’t sure he had any technique in his arsenal that could match the intensity of the combined power Gizin was unleashing.
But Raze also knew one thing clearly:
He didn’t need to overpower strength with strength.
There were other methods. Other movements. Other systems of attack he could use.
“What?” Gizin taunted, laughing as he stomped the cane into the shattered ground. “You think just because you have those fast lightning strikes, you can keep dodging me forever?”
As the cane struck the earth, glowing orbs of light appeared all around them, floating balls of magic, flickering like miniature suns. They formed a circle. Then another circle. Then more, filling the air above and around Raze.
Raze narrowed his eyes.
He hadn’t fought against the other masked fighters himself, so he had no idea what sort of techniques they could use, what abilities they had, or what traits made them dangerous. But seeing these orbs, seeing how similar they were to the patterns he’d heard about, he understood something at once:
This wasn’t unique to the masked men.
Gizin’s magic was connected to theirs.
But far, far stronger.
’So many attack points…’ Raze thought, his expression tightening. ’And the last attack came out at such insane speed. I need to be able to move faster.’
Dark magic began to swirl onto his sword, coating the blade in a shadowy aura. At the same time, a singular wing formed out from his back, a dark, ethereal wing made of mana and Qi.
He was activating the Dusk Wing Formation.
Lightning crackled across his legs and the wing itself, empowering his muscles with raw speed. Energy pulsed around him, vibrating through the air.
The beams fired.
Dozens, then hundreds of beams of energy shot toward him, each one moving fast enough to blur into streaks of light.
From the outside, it looked like there was nowhere to run, no angle, no hidden gap he could slip through.
But at the speed Raze was moving,
He was already behind Gizin by the time the first beam reached where he had been standing.
’Even if my attacks aren’t stronger than his, I have other ways to reach him!’ Raze thought.
He swung his sword with a sharp, downward slice. The Dusk Wing Formation allowed him to unleash ranged attacks as well, but right now he was combining that with his lightning magic, focusing entirely on swift movement.
The blade passed straight through Gizin’s neck.
Not a drop of blood. Not a sound. Not a reaction. Raze’s sword simply phased through the man’s body. As if he had sliced through thin air.
As if he had struck mana rather than flesh.
Raze didn’t even have time to question it before he sensed the beams behind him. He twisted his body, sliding between the incoming attacks, dodging left and right, moving in rapid zigzags until he was once again face-to-face with Gizin.
He swung down from above, this time targeting the center of Gizin’s head.
The blade passed through him again.
The same empty sensation.
Like slicing smoke.
Raze refused to stop. He unleashed a flurry of sword strikes, dozens of cuts sweeping through Gizin’s form from every direction. Each attack landed cleanly, but had no effect whatsoever. It was like fighting a ghost.
Finally, deciding that perhaps his sword wasn’t the correct tool, Raze clenched his fist and used a Dark Pulse. His fist punched straight into Gizin’s stomach.
There was resistance for half a heartbeat, just enough to make him feel the shape of a body.
Then Gizin’s form tore apart like fabric made of light.
It collapsed inward, hollow and weightless, before reforming a moment later as if nothing had happened.
Raze’s eyes widened.
And before he could react, Gizin lifted his cane. With casual ease, he swung it upward and struck Raze directly under the chin. The impact was catastrophic.
Even though it looked like a simple physical hit, the blow carried a massive amount of energy. It exploded through Raze’s skull, ripping through nerves, bones, and Qi pathways all at once. The sound wasn’t like a normal strike, it echoed, bouncing between the cavern walls, traveling upward through the giant hole Gizin had created above.
Raze’s vision wavered.
Before he could regain control of his body, Gizin appeared again, swinging the cane into his stomach.
The force blasted outward behind Raze, creating a shockwave strong enough to obliterate more rubble. Raze’s body was flung backward, tumbling across the broken ground. He skid across stone, metal, and dust before finally stopping.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then Raze pushed himself up.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
His breathing was heavy, but his gaze remained sharp.
How do I fight something I can’t hit…? he thought, wiping the blood away.
He forced himself to analyze the situation.
’His body… it feels strange. Really strange. I can’t hurt him. It reminds me of the original owner of the Lux Sword, the one I defeated. I should have known Gizin would be able to do something like this.’
Raze’s fingers tightened around his sword hilt.
’The Extraction technique should be the best method here, it absorbs energy, drains opponents, pulls their power away. But it’s not working on him at all.’
He replayed each moment in his memory.
Every slash had gone through him.
Every technique had done nothing.
Every strike that carried demonic Qi, magic, and Qi combined, none absorbed anything.
’All of the Dark Edge Sword Arts contain the trait of my Demonic Qi,’ Raze thought. ’Every strike of mine is supposed to drain energy. But I could feel nothing being absorbed at all.’
He remembered the punch, his fist that should have torn through Gizin’s core.
’When I hit him with my fist… there was nothing there. Nothing to grab onto. No Qi. No magic. Not even physical resistance.’
Raze exhaled slowly, lowering his sword slightly as he kept his eyes on Gizin.
’How… how am I meant to beat someone I can’t even hit?’
Gizin tapped his cane lightly on the ground.
He smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who believed the battle was already won.
****
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