The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 328: Chapter 323 — Living Arsenal

”Metal Dance: Momentum.”

A stillness gripped the plains, so deep that for a moment, even the metal aura that had been roaring around Arcturus... halted. Metal streamed down his exposed arm, condensing into a gleaming blade. In that same instant, Zephyrion caught its surface shifting through several metallic colors.

Then... there was only empty air where Arcturus had stood.

The rod snapped into Zephyrion’s grip as he lowered his stance. It barely had time to morph into a gleaming sword before Arcturus’ blade detonated against it. The ensuing shockwave sent cracks racing across the kilometer-wide plains as massive chunks of earth exploded into the air.

Zephyrion felt the force thrum through his body, but it was immediately dispersed by his metal bones and enhanced physique.

For a brief moment, his gaze met Arcturus’, and he saw that every trace of playfulness had vanished from the prince’s eyes. Then Arcturus pulled his blade back and thrust forward like lightning.

Sparks burst as Zephyrion knocked the attack aside. A heavier force thrummed through his arms, making his eyes narrow.

’It’s stronger.’

He stepped in with tight, controlled movements, sparks spilling between them as his blade slid along Arcturus’. It reached the shaft before cutting sharply toward his neck.

Expression unchanged, Arcturus dipped beneath the strike and immediately slashed toward Zephyrion’s chest.

Zephyrion’s stance shifted abruptly as he brought his blade down to intercept.

The collision blasted the air apart and shattered the ground beneath them.

Again, Zephyrion felt the weight of the attack travel through his arms, and his frown deepened. But Arcturus gave him no room to think. His blade tore through the air in a violent barrage, each slash flowing into the next as sparks and bursts of compressed air erupted between them.

Zephyrion met every thrust and cut with precise parries, his movements sharp and controlled despite the growing force. As the attacks continued, however, his frown only deepened.

The first strike he had taken head-on with barely any effort. The next had demanded slightly more. Now, the vibrations from every clash had begun to shake his bones.

’I see. So this is the Eryndor rune art.’

Momentum.

Each clash was stacking against the last. The more Zephyrion exchanged blows with Arcturus, the fiercer and heavier his attacks became. By now, Arcturus’ eyes had turned completely white, his pupils nowhere to be seen. It was as though he had slipped into some sort of trance.

’Metal Dance.’

More cracks raced across the plains as their weapons collided again and again, each impact kicking up violent gales that twisted around them until a tornado of compressed air began to form, spiraling high into the sky. From a distance, it looked as though a cataclysm was unfolding.

Eventually, the inevitable happened.

At first, the clashes merely cracked the ground beneath Zephyrion’s feet. Then his blade began getting forced back, little by little, until his counters disappeared entirely and all he could do was defend. By then, Arcturus’ smile had returned.

Eventually, though, Zephyrion sighed.

’Alright. That’s enough.’

”Titan Armor.”

A tremor rolled through the air, and the world around him seemed to slow for an instant.

Metal rapidly condensed over Zephyrion’s body, fusing with his bones and flesh until his entire figure was sheathed in gleaming, whitish metal that clung tightly to him beneath the morning sun. Countless dark lines traced across the armor like ley lines running over the surface of the world.

An overwhelming power roared through Zephyrion’s body, sharpening his speed, strength, and mind to an extraordinary degree.

The next clash sent shockwaves ripping across the plains.

Arcturus’ eyes widened as the force tore through his body. His dance shattered in an instant, the impact hurling him back for hundreds of meters until he skidded to a stop.

Dragged out of his trance, Arcturus glanced at his trembling arm before lifting his gaze toward Zephyrion, who stood watching him coldly from within the armor.

He could feel it. That dense, oppressive pressure pouring off Zephyrion.

A grin slowly spread across Arcturus’ face.

”Perfect... fucking perfect! Yes, that’s it! Show me everything you’ve got! Let’s take this shit to the extreme!”

Arcturus whipped his blade aside, forcing his trembling arm still.

He invoked;

”Metal Dance: Living Arsenal.”

He flashed before Zephyrion, thrusting like lightning. Zephyrion calmly knocked the attack aside, but Arcturus’ blade suddenly softened and stretched, morphing into a long... ribbon. Its sharpened ends whipped towards Zephyrion’s eyes and groin from opposite directions.

The Titan Armor thrummed, and Zephyrion shifted smoothly between both attacks. He lifted his gaze just in time to see the ribbon contract into a gleaming spear already thrusting towards his face. Zephyrion blurred aside and answered with a downward swing, only for the spear to broaden instantly into a massive shield.

His blade crashed against it, the collision erupting into an explosion that sent a choking haze billowing outward.

The dust had barely begun to settle when sunlight caught several projectiles shooting through the haze in harsh metallic flares.

Zephyrion’s stance shifted continuously as he weaved between them, but the projectiles suddenly curved upward, converging above him before plunging back into the haze.

The ground detonated behind him.

In the same instant, Arcturus flashed into view. The projectiles had already converged around his arm, morphing into a radiant gauntlet as his fist tore forward.

Zephyrion’s blade morphed just as quickly, folding around his own fist into a gleaming gauntlet before their punches collided in a violent explosion.

For a brief moment, they locked eyes amid the thrumming air.

Then they vanished, flashing across the terrain.

Arcturus’ eyes had turned completely white again, his consciousness seemingly sinking deeper into another trance.

His weapons shifted without pause, a blade one moment, chains the next, then something entirely different before Zephyrion could settle into a rhythm.

Each transformation made the battle increasingly unpredictable. Even Zephyrion couldn’t tell what weapon Arcturus would use next until the transformation had already begun, severely limiting his ability to predict his movements.

’Another variation.’ Zephyrion’s eyes narrowed slightly. ’Living Arsenal... so he dances through weapons.’