Against The Eternity Chapter 54: [53] Chapter - 29: Anshvi—Spirit Warrior

Read chapter 54 of Against The Eternity by Phoenixfly_steller on NovelPedia.

[53] Chapter - 29: Anshvi—Spirit Warrior The wind was thick with the scent of iron, smoke, and burning ki. Battle screams echoed across the fractured ridges of the mountain range, where warriors clashed like tidal waves colliding against stone. Swords flashed like falling stars, blood misted through the air like red snow. Amid this chaos, Eklavya stood in the air, surrounded by enemies, his breathing was steady, his gaze icy and razor-like focused. He was just cutting down Master warriors of the Light River Sect like they were nothing in front of him, his blade still humming with residual ki, when the air behind him warped. A sharp whistle sliced through the battlefield — the unmistakable sound of a ki-compressed projectile. Without looking, Eklavya whipped backward, body arching through the sky like a flexed bow. A blinding arrow shot past where his heart had been a second ago, tearing through the air and exploding in the distance like a miniature sun. He turned and narrowed his eyes. Floating before him was Pranav — the Young Master of the Light River Sect, cloaked in flowing azure robes, hair unbound and dancing in the wind. He hovered effortlessly in mid-air, as though the sky itself bent to hold him up. His expression was calm, but arrogance simmered beneath it like a buried flame. Pranav's voice carried clearly through the storm-ridden air. “I never expected a mere practitioner warrior to fly.” No mockery — just a cold surprise. As if Eklavya’s existence was something outside the laws of cultivation itself. Eklavya only smirked, letting faint amusement touch his eyes. “Oh?” His gaze swept across the battlefield — lightning, steel. His brother Ashish was fighting two young masters from the Marwah and Taraj clans, each exchange powerful enough to shake the air around them. Eklavya felt a surge of responsibility, the weight of a clan resting between each heartbeat. He turned back toward Pranav. “Looks like I have to—” A voice resonated inside his mind before he could finish. Deep and calm. ‘No.’ Magha’s tone carried the weight of a mountain—it was unshakeable. ‘Fight him without using your Soul Power.’ Eklavya’s brow creased. ‘He is a six-star Master Warrior and strong enough to defeat even an eight-star. You expect me to fight that bare?’ Magha’s quiet chuckle was almost cruel. ‘Your Supreme Body is not just a title. You might not win but you will be able to endure it.’ Eklavya grit his teeth. ‘So you want me to take blows like children take candy?’ A sigh drifted through his consciousness — patient yet firm. ‘If you want to break through into the Chakra-Rune Merging Realm soon, you need battle, pain, pressure. Breakthrough doesn’t come by hiding behind power. You must taste defeat, bleed under real strength, and still rise. Only through experience can understanding be born. And understanding is what forges realms.’ Eklavya exhaled sharply, frustration flaring. He already knew this — He had studied it before. His voice escaped before his mind caught it. “Yes, yes — I know!” His tone snapped aloud, echoing through the battlefield. “To break through: first gather enough ki, second comprehend the next realm’s essence, and third — strengthen the soul and body until they can endure it.” The words tore through the battlefield like a misplaced lecture, and for a moment even Pranav looked confused, eyes blinking. “What are you mumbling on a battlefield for?” His sword raised, ki surged like a rising tsunami. “Prepare to die.” Before Eklavya could respond, Pranav vanished. He didn’t step, he simply arrived. A flash of silver. A trail of blue ki. A blade already swinging toward Eklavya’s neck with lethal precision. Eklavya twisted, pulling his sword from his storage ring in the same breath. Steel met steel mid-air, the impact booming like thunder shattering stone. Sparks scattered like fireflies chased by the wind. Pranav was faster and stronger. He pressed forward with fluid grace, every strike like a river crashing downward from a