The whitish-silver aura flared outward, not as a storm but as dawn breaking over ruin. The Rook paused, its red eyes narrowing, as though for the first time sensing something beyond its grasp.
Felix shifted, his stance firm, blade angled forward, gleaming like the first ray piercing the night.
Then they moved.
The Rook struck first. A claw the size of a man's torso scythed down, raw strength enough to split the earth.
But Felix didn't meet it with brute force—he angled his blade, aura flaring like the first light of dawn. The strike slid off, split apart as if cut in half by sunlight itself. Sparks and smoke erupted where their power met, but Felix was already moving.
He lunged forward, his sword slicing across the beast's ribs. The cut wasn't deep enough to kill, but it was enough to force the creature to recoil. The Rook snarled and stepped back, its stance faltering for the first time.
This was the essence of Dawn Breaker—unlike typical aura techniques that generate a massive amount of force for attacking or defending, Felix's Life-edge technique was designed to adapt to various scenarios.
The Dawn-Breaker form was specifically meant to counter a strength-type opponent by breaking their momentum and unraveling brute force with precision.
The battle turned into a storm of clashes. Every time the Rook's claws came down, Felix's blade caught the motion, cutting through the weight behind it, opening fleeting gaps.
He exploited them with slashes that seared, carving shallow wounds across their hide. The monster retaliated in kind, each blow heavier, angrier, learning with every strike, forcing Felix to refine his angles further.
The ruins around them suffered as a result. Walls shattered, ground split open, flames from Felix's earlier strikes spreading into infernos. Every exchange sent shockwaves rippling outward, dust and debris raining down in choking waves.
Felix's lungs burned, sweat streaking his face. But beneath the exhaustion, something surged—confidence. His aura wasn't just holding; it was thriving, adapting, piercing through a foe that should have crushed him by sheer weight.
For the first time since the battle began, Felix felt he could win.
The Rook roared, red eyes blazing, and charged again.
….
The first clash had shattered the rhythm of the battle. The second threatened to shatter the battlefield itself.
Felix darted forward, aura streaking off his blade like a comet's tail. The Rook met him with a bellow that shook the ruins, its claws hammering downward with the weight of a collapsing tower.
Felix pivoted, blade angled, and the strike tore harmlessly past him, the ground exploding in a plume of dust and stone.
He countered instantly, his sword flickering through the gap—light seared across the monster's thigh, leaving a trail of scorched and frozen flesh.
The Rook didn't falter. It spun with terrifying speed for something its size, its other arm arcing in.
Felix barely twisted aside, his aura splitting momentum again, but even redirected, the blow carried enough force to hurl him sideways through the shell of a building. The wall crumbled like paper, burying him in rubble.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then light erupted.
Felix exploded from the debris, aura blazing brighter, his hair now a full cascade of whitish-silver. The broken building collapsed behind him in a roar of stone and flame. His sword hummed like a living thing, each step forward a burst of raw defiance.
The Rook roared again and charged.
They met in the center of the wasteland, impact booming like thunder. The air itself seemed to rupture. The shattered earth split into canyons beneath their feet, fires leaping skyward only to be drowned by shards of ice raining down. Felix's blade cut arcs of dawn-light through the smoke, every swing clashing with claws that could shear tanks apart.
Neither yielded.
The Rook's body smoked and bled, ichor pouring from slashes along its limbs and chest. Its breathing was harsher now, each growl rattling like broken stone.
And Felix—his arms shook from the strain, armor splitting at the seams, blood streaking his side where a glancing blow had caught him. His aura wavered, flickering, but it did not break.
Around them, destruction spread unchecked. A half-toppled building groaned as its shockwaves split its foundation, collapsing in a storm of steel and dust. Streets cratered into molten pits under the force of their strikes. Firestorms clashed with sheets of frost, consuming the ruins in chaos.
It was no longer a duel. It was a war.
Felix's smirk returned as he steadied his breath, blade glowing like dawn breaking through the night. His voice was low, but the words carried even through the thunder of battle.
"Life–Edge Style… Breakdown."
He surged forward again, and the storm answered.