Unmade Chapter 26: Chapter 26: concentrate

Read chapter 26 of Unmade by churro on NovelPedia.

Beneath the five black suns, a rain of black dust fell from the sky, an unholy drizzle that drifted like burnt ash from a collapsing world. Each grain sank instantly into the crimson sea, vanishing beneath the surface without a trace. The ripples that followed shimmered faintly, shaped by distant impacts and the shockwaves of battle. And at the center of those five suns, suspended above the bleeding horizon, two figures fought. The first was young. Vale’s black hair, once neatly tied into a bun, had long unraveled, loose strands whipping across his face as he moved. His armor, an onyx shell plated with dark metal, bore cracks from previous deaths yet still clung to him like the remains of a fallen star. Fabrics fluttered around his legs, catching the violent winds generated by their strikes. Still, Vale’s expression did not falter. His breathing stayed measured. His eyes, sharp and steady, never left his opponent. He was focused, more focused than he had ever been in life or death. Facing him was the one Vale had fought for centuries. The one he had died to millions of times. The chained man. His face was hidden behind an obsidian mask marked with a single golden sun in its center. Long hair, dark as the void, floated weightlessly behind him. His broken armor covered only half his upper body and legs, leaving broad expanses of pale, scarred flesh exposed. Yet even with those vulnerabilities, his movements were flawless, relentless. Every strike he threw carried a precision that made hesitation a death sentence. Their blades were carved from the same impossible bone. Vale wielded a short sword, light, quick, built for precision. The chained man wielded a long, heavy greatsword, built for dominance. And still, incredibly, the man was faster. Without warning, the chained man thrust forward, driving the greatsword toward Vale’s ribs. Vale knew this attack. He had died to it countless times. But this time, Vale’s metallic arm snapped forward and caught the blade. The bone weapon ground against his metal palm. Sparks spat from the contact. For an instant, one glorious, defiant instant, Vale felt the thrill of victory bloom in his chest. He had stopped it. He had stopped him. But the chained man simply let go. Vale blinked, and the man’s fist was already in motion. A brutal punch slammed into Vale’s face, snapping his head to the side and launching him across the surface of the crimson sea. He skipped across the liquid like a stone, skidding and rolling until his momentum died. He managed to drag himself onto his knees, spitting blood from cracked lips. The chained man was already walking toward him. Unarmed. Calm. Unhurried. He intended to fight barehanded now. Vale’s heart hammered. He didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. In all the centuries of their battles, the chained man had never abandoned his weapon. Not once. This was unfamiliar territory, and the unfamiliar was always lethal with him. But Vale also knew hesitation meant death. A lesson carved into his soul through millions of deaths. He pushed off the ground and rushed forward, covering the distance in an instant. Vale slashed at the man’s abdomen, But the chained man’s glove snapped shut around the incoming blade. His grip locked it in place with terrifying ease. Before Vale could retreat, the man’s other fist slammed into his gut. Vale’s breath exploded from his lungs as pain tore through his organs. His vision flared white. Blood filled his mouth. He dropped his weapon and stumbled backward, clutching at his abdomen. The chained man flicked Vale’s discarded sword aside like trash. Then he lifted both hands into a Fighting stance. A strained, breathless laugh escaped Vale. “Hand-to-hand, huh?” he said, wiping his mouth, smearing blood across his cheek. “How hard can it be…?” He raised his fists. They moved at the same time. The chained man’s punch shot toward Vale’s head. Vale dodged, barely, and a victorious grin tugged at the corner of his lips. He had learned, fina