SOLOMON VS NAZIA

The forest had transformed into a warzone, the once tranquil landscape now filled with the screams of battle, the clash of steel against claw, and the thick stench of blood in the air. Though the Beserkers had the advantage in numbers, the Beastfolk fought with an animalistic ferocity that made them far deadlier than anticipated.

A Beserker warrior, a towering man with a massive battle-axe, swung down at a lion-like Beastfolk, but the beast sidestepped with inhuman agility, his golden mane whipping through the air. With a ferocious snarl, the lion warrior lunged, claws tearing into the Beserker's chest, ripping open flesh and bone. The Beserker roared in agony, blood spraying onto the dirt before he collapsed lifelessly.

Nearby, a wolf Beastfolk was pinned to the ground by two Beserkers. One drove a spear deep into his stomach, but even as blood poured from his wounds, the wolf warrior bit down onto the Beserker's arm with his razor-sharp fangs, tearing muscle from bone. The second Beserker, eyes wide with panic, drove his sword into the wolf's throat, silencing him instantly.

Solomon, at the heart of the battle, was cutting through Beastfolk with precision, his Halo Sword a blur of blue energy. One by one, warriors fell before him, their bodies cleaved apart, the glow of his blade illuminating the carnage around him. Blood coated his armor, but his eyes remained focused, searching for the next threat.

The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of death, neither side willing to back down. Though the Beserkers had the numbers, the Beastfolk's ferocity and resilience ensured this was not going to be an easy conquest. The war had truly begun.

Solomon looked above and saw a beast folk coming down toward him with tremendous speed. He quickly sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the attack. As the dust settled, he got a clear look at his opponent—a half-man, half-monkey Beastfolk, his lean, muscular frame covered in light brown fur, with two katanas sheathed at his sides. His sharp golden eyes locked onto Solomon with unwavering focus.

"You're in Winzo territory," the warrior said coldly. "You will die here."

He drew his twin lightning-infused katanas, electricity snapping and dancing across the blades.

Solomon gripped the Halo Sword, the legendary Beserker blade. It glowed with a vibrant blue radiance, its pure energy humming in the air. A single cut from this sword had already brought down part of Delria's great wall—now, it would be used in battle.

The opposing forces fell silent, sensing the significance of the duel about to unfold.

"Go on, Nazia!" the Beastfolk behind him roared. "Kill that filthy Beserker!"

On the other side, Beserkers cheered for Solomon. "Crush that animal, Solomon! Show them why we rule!"

The two warriors locked eyes, assessing each other. Then, with explosive speed, Nazia lunged.

His movements were unpredictable, wild, yet precise, flipping through the trees like a blur. He bounced from branch to branch, his lightning-charged katanas leaving streaks of electricity in their wake. Solomon tightened his grip on the Halo Sword, watching Nazia's patterns.

Then, Nazia struck.

A blindingly fast diagonal slash aimed for Solomon's neck—Solomon barely raised his sword in time, the clash sending a shockwave of energy outward. Sparks flew violently as lightning met divine energy, illuminating the battlefield in a clash of blue and gold.

Nazia didn't let up—he twisted in the air, spinning like a cyclone as he sent a flurry of slashes toward Solomon, each one coming from unpredictable angles. Solomon parried and dodged, his Halo Sword flashing with divine light as it deflected Nazia's relentless attacks.

Then, Solomon countered—with a powerful horizontal slash, he sent a crescent wave of radiant energy surging forward. Nazia barely evaded, flipping backward onto a thick tree branch. He crouched low, his tail flicking behind him, before launching himself forward again with double the ferocity.

The duel had truly begun.

"That sword you have is something else," Nazia said, his golden eyes narrowing as he licked his lips in anticipation. "I think I'll take it."

Without hesitation, he lunged again—a blur of speed and lightning, his katanas crackling with fierce golden arcs of electricity. He twisted mid-air, bringing his swords down in a lightning-fast X-shaped slash, aiming to cut Solomon apart from both angles at once.

Solomon stood firm, his grip on the Halo Sword tightening.

Enough.

With a calm breath, he sidestepped at the last moment—his movements now precise, calculated—and countered with a swift, devastating diagonal slash. The Halo Sword blazed, its blue radiance flaring as it tore through the air.

Nazia barely managed to parry with one katana, but the force behind Solomon's strike was monstrous. His arm buckled under the weight, sending him crashing through the dirt, rolling several meters before stopping in a crouch. His hands trembled.

Solomon walked toward him, his expression now cold and unreadable.

"You move well," Solomon said, his voice like steel. "But you were never going to win."

Nazia snarled, wiping the blood from his mouth. Then, with a primal roar, he exploded forward once more, his body a streak of golden lightning as he spun through the air, blades swinging wildly, aiming to overwhelm Solomon with sheer speed and unpredictability.

But Solomon no longer needed to dodge.

With terrifying precision, he stepped into the storm.

His Halo Sword lashed out—once, twice, three times—each movement calm, effortless, and absolute.

A burst of blue light illuminated the battlefield.

Nazia staggered to a stop behind him, his blades slipping from his fingers, embedding into the dirt. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body frozen in shock.

Then—

Blood erupted from his chest and stomach.

He fell to his knees, looking down at the deep, brutal slashes Solomon had cut clean through his body. His breathing grew shallow, his eyes losing their fire.

"Y-you… bastard…" Nazia coughed, blood pooling beneath him.

Solomon simply flicked the blood off his blade, his expression unmoved.

"You should have stayed in the trees."

With one final, merciless slash, he severed Nazia's head from his shoulders.

The battlefield fell silent.

The beastfolk watching let out shouts of horror and rage, while the Beserkers erupted into cheers of triumph.

And Solomon was just getting started.

Shortly after, Zaia and the other half of the platoon regrouped with the rest of them. They had taken casualties but not too many—they still had more than half of their forces intact. The Beserkers had successfully taken control of the Delrian border. Their first objective was complete. Now, they had the advantage of moving in and out of Delria as they pleased.

"So, what now?" Zaia asked, wiping the blood off her blade.

Solomon planted the Halo Sword into the ground and exhaled, surveying the battlefield. "We need to spread our forces out along the border," he said firmly. "Our job isn't done yet. This is just the beginning."

Zaia nodded. "We're waiting for the next wave of platoons to arrive, right?"

"Exactly," Solomon confirmed. "Once they're here, we push deeper into Delria and reinforce their assault." He looked over his troops, their clothes bloodied, their weapons still gripped tightly in their hands. They were eager for more. "For now, we hold our ground. We'll split into individual squads and set up stations along the border. Stay sharp and be ready. The real battle is yet to come."