Peakwest 2 : Berserk, Blood And Peace

ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ 226

ρєαкωєѕт 2 | 𝘼𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙙𝙙 𝙑𝙨 𝙒𝙖𝙡𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖 3

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Nero stood frozen for a moment, his breath shallow as he came to grips with what had just happened.

The battlefield blurred, reality distorted.

He shook his head, squinting his eyes shut before opening them again, the hallucination from Muzan's earlier powerful impact finally fading.

Nero: "Freak, I missed."

He exhaled deeply, relieved but frustrated.

This was Muzan's effect—the overwhelming pressure that bent reality, pushing even the strongest minds to their limits.

Muzan had already risen to his feet, dusting himself off with that same sinister smile stretched across his face.

Muzan: "You want to know why I am the king of Agiadd?"

His voice boomed across the battlefield, full of arrogance and authority.

Muzan: "I’ll show you. I won’t hold back now."

He tightened his grip on his sword, the air around him growing dense with anticipation.

His presence alone seemed to distort the very space around him. His speed, his technique, his intensity—everything was dialed up to the maximum.

Muzan: "Bring it on!"

Nero and Greymor exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging what they had to do.

This was no longer a battle to simply test each other’s skills.

Muzan was about to unleash everything he had.

Greymor stepped forward, his posture unwavering, his eyes locked onto Muzan. He was no stranger to this moment, the calm before the storm. Nero stood beside him, resetting his stance, readying his mind and body.

[ Narrator:

The battlefield seemed to hold its breath. Muzan was unlike anyone they had faced before. He didn’t just push his body or mind to its limits; he thrived in chaos. Now, against Nero and Greymor, he prepared to show why he held the throne of Agiadd—the most feared warrior in this fractured world. ]

Muzan's sword gleamed in the dim light as he raised it high, and in an instant, his body flickered, vanishing from sight.

Muzan: "Celestial Dance!"

His Celestial Dance technique was like a storm—a flurry of movements so fast they seemed impossible for any human to follow.

His blade moved through the air, cutting through the space between them with terrifying precision and speed. It wasn’t just a technique; it was the embodiment of Muzan’s chaotic nature, unpredictable and overwhelming.

But Nero and Greymor were ready.

Nero activated his Force Field technique, the same finely tuned awareness that allowed him to predict and counter Muzan’s attacks.

His mind worked at incredible speeds, reading Muzan’s movements even as the strikes came from multiple angles. Each of Muzan’s wild strikes was met with a calm, calculated response from Nero.

Greymor, on the other hand, stood still, his focus narrowing in as he unleashed his own technique—**Immobile Soul**.

[ Narrator:

The Immobile Soul was not a flashy technique. It didn’t rely on speed or strength. Instead, it was a deep understanding of one's presence and essence. Greymor’s technique was about control—absolute control over his body, mind, and soul. When he used the Immobile Soul, he became an immovable object, grounded in a way that defied Muzan’s chaotic storm.

His very presence disrupted the flow of Muzan’s attacks, making it harder for the chaotic energy to penetrate his defenses.

Greymor: you won't win!!

"Muzan Aeternum!"

As Muzan’s strikes clashed against Nero’s Force Field and Greymor’s Immobile Soul, the battlefield became a deadly dance of chaos and control.

Each of Muzan’s strikes was met with perfect defense, and for the first time, the King of Agiadd’s grin faltered.

Muzan: "You think you can stand against me like this?"

Nero’s eyes narrowed, his mind sharp and focused.

Nero: "We’re not here to just stand."

Greymor’s voice came in low, calm, yet commanding.

Greymor: "We’re here to end this."

Muzan snarled, the wild energy around him growing even more intense. But Nero and Greymor didn’t back down.

They were ready to push him back, to show that even the King of Agiadd had limits.

[ Narrator:

The battlefield was set. Muzan, with his chaotic and destructive Celestial Dance technique, was up against two of the most disciplined and controlled warriors in PeakWest. Nero’s Force Field countered Muzan’s unpredictable strikes, while Greymor’s Immobile Soul became an unbreakable annoying attack, refused to break. This wasn’t just a battle of skill—it was a clash of philosophies. Chaos versus control. Instinct versus calculation. The storm was only beginning. ]

Greymor: you were always right, Muzan.

"But I don't think so you could resist all the damages for much of the time."

"We never had thought the frame, the life of the king of Agiadd,"

"So called the king of peakwest of the past 10 year's would come to an end in such place like this."

"You sure are an lucky one to die in front of your own members."

Greymor struck through Muzan's guts with his sword.

Muzan spits bloods.

Nero: well done, Greymor.

"The revenge for Kazuto has been taken."

"I must be thankful to you for that."

"For now and forever."

Kind tries to step front to stop them.

Muzan: do not reject my words, Kind.

"Don't come inbetween as you know."

Kind: understood.

Mike: is this really happening?

"Or is this a dream im visioning."

Ace: I can't.. I'm just..

"I just have no words to say."

Mike: in this case, when Muzan dies, will Walhallas be the top first clan?

Ace: might be.

Mike: then would Nero be the top first clan's leader or a king?

"In short, is he gonna be the king of the peakwest from now."

Mike thinks,

"Something's off.."

Ace: that makes Greymor's efforts go flying in air.

"Something's..."

"Off."

Mike's eyes widen in realisation.

"No way, then this means."

"It was all-"

Chapter End.