Soro vs. Black: The Final Duel

The Siege of the Palace: A Duel of Fate

At Black's command, the battle for the palace erupted in an instant. The clash of steel and the cries of the wounded filled the air, painting a brutal scene of war.

The palace guards knew this was their final stand. Each man fought with unwavering determination, contesting every inch of ground as if their very lives depended on it—because they did. Hours passed, and despite their relentless assault, the forces of the Radiant Church had only managed to break through two defensive lines. But the cost was steep—bodies littered the blood-soaked palace steps and courtyard.

The palace itself, with its intricate architecture and narrow corridors, became a bottleneck for the knights. The once-dominant cavalry, accustomed to open battlefield charges, found themselves forced to dismount and fight alongside the infantry in grueling close-quarters combat.

Frowning at the slow progress, Black strode toward Rowan and gave a detailed report of the situation.

Rowan listened in silence, then, after a moment of thought, spoke coldly."Send a message—tell them if they do not surrender, we will set the palace ablaze. The palace is built mostly of wood. I doubt they're willing to take that risk."

Black's eyes lit up at the idea. "Brilliant," he thought. Without hesitation, he sent a messenger to deliver the threat.

A soldier stepped forward and bellowed at the top of his lungs:"Listen up! You are completely surrounded. Surrender now, or we will burn this palace to the ground! When it turns to ash, don't say we didn't warn you!"

The defenders inside paled at the threat. They knew the palace's wooden structures would ignite easily, and in this chaotic battle, there would be no hope of containing the flames. Panic spread like wildfire.

Inside the main hall, the emperor and his ministers turned to the Grand Inquisitor, Soro, their faces etched with desperation. The weight of expectation pressed down on him.

Soro's expression darkened. Despicable. Ruthless. Using fire against a palace filled with innocents? Were they really willing to go that far?

But the reality of the situation left no room for hesitation.

Outside, Black, seeing no response, sneered. "Light the fire arrows. Let them see we're not bluffing."

A volley of flaming arrows arced through the sky, crashing into the palace rooftops. Flames erupted, smoke coiling into the heavens. Though the palace guards scrambled to extinguish the fires, the sight alone shattered morale.

Panic spread like a plague. Ministers and nobles, once firm in their resolve, began murmuring about surrender."This is madness," they whispered. "If we resist any longer, we'll all perish."

Only Soro and the emperor remained steadfast.

The emperor's face flushed with fury. "Anyone who dares to speak of surrender—will die!"

To prove his point, he ordered the immediate execution of two ministers who had advocated for yielding. Their deaths sent a chilling message, momentarily silencing further dissent.

But Soro knew the truth. This battle was slipping from their grasp. Ordinary resistance would no longer suffice. If there was any hope left, it lay in one decisive move—killing Black.

His mind made up, Soro took a deep breath and stepped out onto the battlefield. His voice rang out over the chaos:

"Black! Do you dare face me in a duel?"

The battlefield fell silent.

"If you win," Soro continued, "we will surrender immediately. But if I win, you will lead your knights out of this city."

Black narrowed his eyes. What kind of fool did Soro take him for? They had the city cornered—why would he risk everything on a duel?

Still, he smirked, taunting, "You are in no position to negotiate. But since you're so eager to die, I'll grant your wish. If you somehow manage to defeat me, I'll let you walk away with your life. But don't expect anything more."

Soro clenched his fists but nodded. "So be it."

Black turned to Rowan, who gave a subtle nod of approval. Go. End this.

Both warriors stepped forward, swords in hand. The air grew heavy with tension.

Rowan, ever the strategist, discreetly chanted a spell. A surge of divine energy enveloped Black—Blessing of Might. Strength, speed, and resilience coursed through his veins. Feeling the newfound power, Black wasted no time. With a battle cry, he lunged at Soro.

The duel was fierce. Sparks flew as blades clashed. Soro, a seasoned warrior, quickly noticed something—Black had yet to fully master the level of a Grand Swordmaster.

A glimmer of hope flashed in Soro's eyes. He's strong, but not invincible. This fight is mine.

With newfound confidence, Soro counterattacked. His strikes came faster, sharper, forcing Black onto the defensive. The tides had turned.

From the palace walls, the emperor and his men cheered. Perhaps—just perhaps—victory was still within reach.

Meanwhile, the knights of the Radiant Church clenched their weapons, watching anxiously. Black was their commander—his defeat was unthinkable. The vice-commander gritted his teeth. If Black falters, we strike. No matter what.

But just when it seemed that Soro had the upper hand, Black's aura exploded. A surge of energy burst forth—his body trembled, then steadied. His eyes sharpened.

He had broken through.

A stunned silence fell over the battlefield. Rowan, who had been prepared to intervene, raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had considered stepping in to kill Soro himself—but now, there was no need.

Black's lips curled into a confident smirk. He met Soro's next strike head-on, countering with newfound ferocity. In the blink of an eye, the duel had reversed—Soro found himself struggling, barely keeping up.

His mind raced. Impossible. He advanced mid-battle?!

Desperation clawed at him. He had started this duel believing he could turn the tide, but now, he was fighting for his life.

From the sidelines, Rowan observed carefully. Though Black had ascended to Grand Swordmaster, his foundation was still unsteady. And Soro—though skilled—was beginning to falter.

The battle was not yet over. But it was only a matter of time.