Chapter 100: Xiaxia Vs. Tristan There was no time to mourn, no time to process the loss that had just unfolded before Tristan’s eyes. The battle continued to rage, unrelenting in its chaos.
As the Golem variants closed in, Tristan’s heart hammered painfully against his ribs. He saw his fellow DPS warriors being systematically picked off one by one.
Their valiant efforts and their fierce combat styles all reduced to nothing before the might of the Golems, who were even low-level compared to them.
It was only because they were outnumbered.
And he thought that they would overwhelm Snow Angels. He was so sure that they would massacre them –– but how come it was the opposite?
Tristan’s breath came in ragged bursts, panic and disbelief welling within him.
How had everything unraveled so quickly? Where had he gone wrong?
The weight of his powerlessness settled upon him like a suffocating shroud. He was alone now, surrounded by enemies on all sides. Each breath he took was laden with the bitter taste of defeat.
His eyes darted around, seeking an escape route, a glimmer of hope amid the chaos.
But all he could see were the towering Golems, their eyes devoid of mercy, their movements a relentless advance.
A bitter taste filled his mouth as he whispered to himself, his voice tinged with desperation, "What went wrong?"
The battle cries, the clash of weapons, the explosions of magic –– they all seemed to blend into an indistinct symphony of chaos.
Yet amidst the tumult, Tristan’s thoughts were a singular thread of questioning, of self-doubt, of despair.
His fingers tightened around his halberd, his knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. He stood alone, a solitary figure in the heart of the storm.
And as he braced for the inevitable clash, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the end.
The cacophony of battle pressed in around him, and amidst it all, the question echoed like a haunting refrain –– what had gone wrong?
"Ready to throw in the towel?" Xiaxia’s voice pierced Tristan’s consciousness, cutting through the nightmarish fog that shrouded him.
Tristan’s gaze snapped to her, his eyes focusing on her visage.
In that moment, she was both an angel and devil. A warrior and princess. Her presence awakened dormant emotions, reminding him why he had been captivated by her from the very beginning.
"Xiaxia," he managed to rasp out, his voice as ragged as his thoughts. Tristan was standing on the precipice of surrender, staring into the abyss of his own failures.
Xiaxia held Tristan’s gaze with a head held high and constricted pupils. "I’m not heartless, Tristan. Unlike you, I’m willing to acknowledge our past and offer you a chance. How about a one-on-one showdown? Winner takes it all."
Tristan’s silence was thick with contemplation, a moment where hope glimmered on the edges of his consciousness.
A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "No take backs!"
With a surge of excitement to redeem himself, to rewrite this blunder, Tristan lunged forward, the world around him fading into a blur. The weight of his halberd in his grip felt familiar and reassuring, and he swung it with an almost desperate vigor.
Xiaxia’s response was swift, her form a blur of motion as she gracefully evaded his assault. Her wings carried her out of Tristan’s immediate reach, the wind tousling her hair as she deftly eluded his strikes.
Tristan’s heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm of his breath echoing the turmoil in his mind.
The image of Xiaxia before him was a paradox –– a fierce warrior and a delicate princess all at once, reminding him of what had first drawn him to her.
Her words reached him even amid the clash of steel and magic. "Unlike you, I stand by my promises."
Just as she said those words, the Golems halted their advance and the rest watched their fight at the side.
Xiaxia’s movements were fluid, almost balletic in their elegance, as she danced around Tristan’s relentless attacks.
The terrain worked in her favor, and her wings added another dimension to her evasive maneuvers.
Tristan was a Templar, a warrior with mastery over his halberd, its reach allowing him to strike over a wide arc. Each swing was a calculated display of his skill, and the halberd’s blade gleamed with deadly intent.
But Xiaxia was no ordinary opponent. Her wings granted her unparalleled mobility, and she had been tactical in her approach. She had reserved her [Fly] ability for this very moment, holding onto it until the opportune time for it cost mana to use.
As Tristan swung, Xiaxia’s laughter carried on the wind, her voice a playful counterpoint to the intensity of their clash. "You always did charge headfirst, Tristan."
Tristan’s strikes were relentless, his frustration channeling through his weapon. Each swing was an attempt to breach her defenses, to break through her evasive dance.
However, her shield greatly reduced his damage to her, and her wings added to the throbbing of his veins.
Why did he even gave her that [Angel Scroll]? Tristan was regretting it right now.
Xiaxia’s voice rang out, teasing. "But you never were the most patient."
Tristan’s halberd carved through the air, the force of his attacks sending shockwaves through the space between them.
With a sudden twist of her body, Xiaxia narrowly avoided a sweeping strike. Her wings fluttered, granting her altitude and a strategic vantage point.
Tristan’s chest heaved, sweat tracing a path down his forehead. His gaze remained locked on Xiaxia. The terrain was uneven, his footing precarious, but he pushed forward, his halberd still held firmly in his grip.
He kept a tight rein on his mana, reserving it for a potentially decisive blow.
Tristan’s magical reserves were strained due to his reckless expenditure of mana on his [Blink] skill. Deprived of a potion to replenish his mana, he knew he had to be careful, holding onto his mana until the opportune moment arose.
In the heart of the battlefield, Xiaxia and Tristan clashed, a convergence of wills. Their movements were swift, their attacks precise.
Xiaxia wielded her legend grade [Sunblade] with mastery. Her damage doubled, allowing her to cut through metal like butter. The divine damage was also an added boost.
Meanwhile, her [Spellguard Shield], deflected Tristan’s blows with ease.
Though Tristan was a seasoned fighter, against Xiaxia and her legend grade equipment, he could do nothing but desperately fought, aiming to find a hole in her defenses and land a critical hit.
Xiaxia’s graceful wings provided elevation, her aerial maneuvers offering a strategic advantage.
Tristan’s strikes were potent, capable of dealing AoE damage, but each attempt was met with Xiaxia’s swift evasion and shield.
Xiaxia’s shield was a fortress, her blocks minimizing the impact of Tristan’s attacks. Her [Sunblade] radiated with celestial power, each strike delivering precise damage that Tristan struggled to counter.
In a pivotal moment, Xiaxia’s strategy revealed itself. She activated her [Fly] ability, ascending out of Tristan’s immediate reach. His mana reserves dwindling, he was left grounded, vulnerable to her ranged prowess.
With precision and calculated skill, Xiaxia’s attacks found their mark. Her [Sunblade] delivered decisive blows, its radiant energy sapping away Tristan’s remaining HP. His attempts to close the distance were thwarted by her aerial advantage.
Tristan’s teeth clenched with a stubborn resistance, his heart and spirit unwilling to concede. But the unrelenting barrage of Xiaxia’s attacks left him no choice.
With each strike, his HP waned, and he felt himself sinking to his knees, his form gradually dissolving.
His bitter gaze, fueled by defiance, remained fixed on Lord Schrodinger. The feline’s presence was the catalyst, the root of their downfall.
If only . . . if only that wretched cat and his Golems were not here!
Amid the fading light of his existence, Tristan’s resentment blazed hot, an inner fire that raged against his fate. But in the face of overwhelming odds, he found himself unable to muster a counterattack.
"I won’t accept defeat!" Tristan’s voice, raw and desperate, echoed across the battlefield.
Then desperation dripped from Tristan’s words as he spoke, a last-ditch attempt to regain control. "Xiaxia, deep down, I know you still have feelings for me. Surrender now, and I might just think about giving us another chance." His words quivered with the urgency of his emotions, his focus now solely on salvaging his pride.
Xiaxia’s gaze remained fixed on him, her eyes narrowing into slits. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Tristan," she purred softly, her voice a dagger concealed in velvet. "There’s something you should understand." She leaned in, her words a whispered secret meant for him alone. "I’ve long moved on."
Before Tristan could fully grasp the implications of her words, a flash of motion sliced through the air. His vision was dominated by the glint of steel as Xiaxia’s blade met its mark.
The world seemed to fracture in an instant, a searing line of pain splitting him in two. And then, like fragments of a shattered mirror, his form disintegrated into a cascade of particles, his wide eyes reflecting a mixture of shock and disbelief.
The declaration resounded through the air, a thunderous proclamation that shattered the lingering echoes of battle.
<WINNER! SNOW ANGELS!>