The street split open beneath their feet.
The Rook lunged — a blur of motion far too fast for its colossal size. Each step cratered the ground, hurling shards of asphalt through the air like shrapnel. When its clawed fist came down, it wasn't a strike — it was an avalanche.
David rolled under it. The impact pulverized a nearby car into molten scrap, shockwaves rippling outward. Heat and dust burst into the air, forming a choking wall of grit. Sliding on one knee, David twisted and slashed upward with both blades.
Twin arcs of red light tore across the Rook's armor, leaving only faint glowing marks — too shallow to matter.
"Damn it… that shell's tougher than steel."
The Rook roared — a sound that shook the bones. It spun with brutal grace, its backhand sweeping through the haze. The blow sliced a section of the street clean in half. David vaulted backward, barely clearing the strike as debris exploded around him. A nearby wall disintegrated into rubble.
He hit the ground hard, lungs heaving, the earth trembling beneath him. The next roar followed — primal, deafening.
Then the monster charged again.
David darted aside, weaving between broken slabs of concrete as the Rook barreled through. The force alone collapsed the nearest buildings, turning the narrow street into a wasteland of flying dust and flame.
Every movement was chaos. David became a shadow threading through catastrophe — a dancer between destruction and death. The heat from his blades trailed behind him like ribbons of molten light. Each dodge came a heartbeat too close; each strike barely grazed its mark.
The Rook's claw slammed down again. David twisted, spinning through the narrow gap between its fingers and landing on its arm. The surface was rough and jagged like sharpened coral. Sprinting up its limb, he carved glowing lines along the seams of bone.
The Rook roared and swung its other arm to crush him.
David kicked off just before impact. The two limbs collided with a thunderous crack, the shockwave hurling him through the air. He twisted mid-fall, landing on the edge of a toppled transport truck. Metal groaned under his boots.
He exhaled sharply, body screaming, lungs burning.
'Still too shallow. I can't break through.' he thought
The creature turned toward him, eyes burning like molten ore. Then David saw it — faint white lines running along its chest and arms, pulsing softly.
The Rook roared again.
The sound fractured the air as its body erupted in greenish light. Bone plates shifted and locked together — a living fortress sealing itself. Its next step shattered what remained of the street.
David dove aside as a tidal wave of rubble exploded toward him. The ground behind erupted in a storm of pulverized stone.
When he emerged from the dust, the Rook was already mid-swing. He crossed both blades, bracing for the hit.
The impact flung him like a rag doll.
He crashed through a wall, rolling across debris until he carved a trench through the dirt. His molten blades hissed as they slowed his slide. Blood trickled down his temple, warm and sticky.
The Rook advanced, each step heavier than the last. Behind it, ruins groaned and windows shattered under its weight.
David spat blood and raised his blades again.
The Rook didn't hesitate. Its arm came down like a guillotine. David sidestepped, spun, and slashed at the joint. This time, the molten edge bit deep — a hiss of vapor and a flash of red light. Bone armor cracked and melted, revealing something dark and pulsing beneath.
The Rook screamed — high and shrill, a sound of pain. It swung wildly and caught David before he could dodge.
The hit smashed into his shoulder. Pain detonated through his body. He flew backward, crashing into a half-crushed bus. Metal shrieked, crumpling around him. His breath hitched; his vision blurred.
But he stood. He always stood.
The Rook came again, relentless. Each attack was a quake, each swing a storm. David moved through the wreckage with desperate precision — vaulting off debris, rebounding from shattered walls. His blades burned brighter now, every arc leaving molten traces in the air.
He struck low, high, diagonal — faster and faster — carving sparks and shards of melted bone. But the Rook didn't falter. It tore a slab of street free and hurled it like a weapon.
David dove as the stone missile flew past, crushing a building behind him. The blast wave chased him, fire and dust rolling in waves.
He hit the ground and came up running, blades raised in a vertical guard. The Rook's fist descended again — he caught the motion, slid along its forearm, and kicked off its chest, carving two searing lines down its torso.
The Rook howled. Its chest split slightly — not much, but enough to bleed.
David landed, panting. His arms trembled from the strain.
"You're quite a stubborn one," he muttered through his teeth.
The Rook lowered its stance. Its entire body ignited in a pale, bone-white glow. The air thickened with mana, pressure radiating outward like gravity itself.
David braced as the creature's arms came down together.
He didn't dodge away — he dove forward.
Sliding between its arms, he rolled beneath its chest. Both blades sliced twin crimson crescents across its abdomen. White-hot steam burst outward, scalding the air.
The Rook stumbled, slamming both fists into the ground to steady itself. The shockwave lifted David from the earth, tossing him skyward.
Mid-spin, he hurled one blade like a spear. It spun end-over-end, embedding into the Rook's neck with a sharp crack. A fracture split along its jaw.
David landed hard and extended his hand. The blade snapped back to him, molten edge whirring like a living thing.
For the first time, the Rook hesitated.
David smiled faintly, blood dripping from his chin.
The Rook's hesitation turned into fury. It struck the ground with both arms — and the earth answered.
From the cracks beneath it, white bone spikes erupted in every direction.
David reacted a second too slow. One spike grazed his thigh, searing through fabric and skin. He gritted his teeth and sprinted sideways through the volley. Each spike forced him to twist, vault, and dive — a deadly rhythm of instinct and speed.
He burst free just as the last spike shot past, grazing his cheek.
Breathing raggedly, he steadied his grip. The Rook was already charging again.
David clenched both blades, feeling the hum of heat and power race through his arms.
He ran forward.
crimson met shadow — flame met bone.
The collision flattened the ruins around them. Fire rolled outward in rings, dust spiraling into the air like a second sunrise. The Rook's claws tore through smoke, each stroke glowing with friction and mana. David met them with flashes of red and white — parry, dodge, strike, twist.
Sparks and blood mingled midair.
Each movement now was survival. David's breath came in gasps, his muscles screaming, but his eyes burned steady. His blades spun faster, the heat building until the edges shimmered like liquid fire.
Their next clash sent both staggering back.
The battlefield was unrecognizable — a crater of molten asphalt, shattered stone, and flickering firelight.
David crouched low, one knee in the dirt, chest heaving. Across from him, the Rook stood tall, its body fissured with glowing cracks where David blades had bitten deepest.
It bellowed once more — a roar that shook the clouds.
David rose slowly, eyes locked on the beast. The fire from his blades reflected in his pupils like twin embers.
The battle was far from over.