Holyark

XVII

As Blaze hurtled towards Satan, the Prince of Darkness drew his own sword with fluid grace. The blade was a nightmarish thing, seemingly forged from shadows and malevolence. With a casual flick of his wrist, Satan parried Blaze's initial strike, the clash of their weapons sending sparks of light and darkness spiraling into the air.

But Blaze, fueled by righteous determination and the power of the Obori Shard, didn't falter. He pressed his attack, his dual swords becoming blurs of golden light as he struck again and again. To everyone's surprise, including Satan's, Blaze's assault began to push the dark lord back.

The young Holyark moved with an instinctual prowess, his wings providing him with unparalleled agility. He darted in and out, striking from impossible angles, his swords leaving trails of radiant energy in their wake. Satan's smug expression slowly morphed into one of concentration, then concern.

"Impossible," Satan snarled as one of Blaze's swords nicked his cheek, drawing a line of dark ichor. The elite followers shifted uneasily, shocked to see their master on the defensive.

Blaze felt the power surging through him, the Obori Shard resonating with his determination. Each movement felt natural, as if he'd been training for this moment his entire life. His wings flexed and shifted, allowing him to dodge Satan's counterattacks with preternatural grace.

As the battle raged on, the very fabric of reality seemed to warp around them. The sky darkened, streaked with bolts of golden lightning emanating from Blaze's attacks. The ground trembled beneath their feet, grass withering and then bursting into new life with each step.

In a particularly daring move, Blaze feinted with one sword, then spun in mid-air, his wing creating a gust that momentarily blinded Satan. Seizing the opportunity, he brought his other sword down in a powerful arc, catching Satan squarely across the chest.

The dark lord stumbled backward, genuine surprise etched on his face. For the first time in eons, he had been bested in combat, if only momentarily. The elite followers gasped in unison, their confidence shaken.

Blaze landed gracefully, his wings folding behind him, swords at the ready. He stood tall, golden light emanating from his form, the very picture of a holy warrior. "Still think I'm just a fledgling, Satan?" he called out, his voice ringing with newfound confidence.

Satan's eyes narrowed, a mix of rage and grudging respect in his gaze. "Well, well," he growled, straightening up. "It seems the Ultima Tree chose better than I anticipated. But don't get cocky, boy. This battle is far from over."

As Satan readied himself for the next round, his dark power swirling around him like a tempest, Blaze knew that the real test was only beginning. The fate of mankind hung in the balance, and Holyark stood as its last, shining hope.