FrenzyAren
patreon
SM/DC Chapter 90 : Arthur VS Baruka
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 20:27:20 +0000 UTCBaruka stood like a ghost waiting to strike.
Arthur tilted his head slightly, then raised his left hand, five fingers extended.
“I’ll give you five minutes…” he said coolly, his voice slicing through the silence.
“Five minutes to try and kill me.”
He rotated his wrist, cracking his knuckles for effect. Then, without missing a beat, he slowly brought his Demon King Longsword up, resting it against his shoulder, the metal humming with latent power.
“And when those five minutes are up, and I’m still standing…”
He pointed the blade toward Baruka.
“Let’s just say… you’ll look very different then.”
Baruka narrowed his eyes, runes on his body pulsing with arcane energy. The fog thickened. The cold bit deeper.
“You dare mock me, human?” Baruka hissed.
“You won’t be standing. You’ll be frozen beneath my feet!”
In an instant, he vanished.
Arthur’s smile widened. “Here we go.”
Baruka’s dagger whistled through the air, aiming for Arthur’s throat from behind, but it met steel.
CLANG!
Arthur turned just enough to block with the flat of his sword. A reverberating shockwave burst from the clash. Baruka flipped back, boots sliding across the icy ground with graceful speed.
Arthur cocked his head.
“Getting parried by a big sword like this?”
He lifted it slightly with one hand like it weighed nothing.
“How do you feel?”
Baruka snarled and disappeared again, stealth mode. His body melted into the white fog, his presence hidden so completely even his breath left no trace.
Snowflakes slowed. The world hushed.
Arthur’s glowing eyes darted left, then right. For a second, it seemed even he couldn’t track him
But then
He moved.
Baruka reappeared behind Arthur, both daggers raised in a cross, ready to cut through his spine
But they stopped.
Inches from Arthur’s neck, frozen mid-strike.
Arthur didn’t even flinch.
His left hand was extended, fingers slightly curled Ruler’s Authority pulsing like gravity itself.
“Nice try.”
Arthur turned his head slowly, the look in his eyes calm and gleaming with menace. Without a word, he spun and delivered a brutal roundhouse kick, sending Baruka flying through the snow, crashing into a frozen tree trunk. The ice shattered like glass around him.
Arthur exhaled through his nose. Calm. Unshaken.
He looked up at the foggy sky, then down at the shadow of his own boots.
“Three minutes left.”
Baruka groaned, rising slowly from the crater his body carved into the snow, blood staining the white powder beneath him. His body shook—not from fear, but from pure rage. The frost around him spiked violently, wild magic reacting to his fury. Cold winds screamed through the trees as the temperature plummeted. His pride had taken the blow harder than his body.
His runes glowed icy blue.
His fists trembled with wrath.
Arthur casually lowered the Demon King Longsword, the blade steaming from recent use, and with an almost bored expression, unequipped it, making it vanish in a flash of black smoke back to his system inventory.
“Alright,” Arthur said, rolling his neck with a satisfying crack. He raised both hands in the air in a mock surrender, flashing Baruka a grin full of disrespect.
“No weapons. Just hands. I’ll help you out.”
Baruka’s eye twitched. His mouth twisted in hatred. “You… YOU INSOLENT—!”
He vanished, snow exploding behind him as he lunged forward with supernatural speed, daggers out, white fog whirling like a vortex around his form.
CLINK! CLINK! SHING!
Each of Baruka’s strikes came like lightning, fast, surgical, aimed for the throat, the ribs, the heart. But Arthur… dodged them all, head tilting inches, body swaying with perfect control. His glowing blue eyes locked onto Baruka’s every move, reading his rhythm like an open book.
Swipe. Duck. Slash. Lean back. Stab. Sidestep.
Arthur’s smirk widened as he danced backward, each footstep effortless.
Then a faint hiss came from one of Baruka’s blades.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh…” he said with an amused chuckle, swaying away from a diagonal slash. “Poison in those daggers. Not bad…”
Baruka roared and brought both blades in for a final, crossing slash aimed to cleave Arthur’s face.
But Arthur moved faster.
He snatched Baruka’s wrist mid-swing, fingers clamping down like a vice of steel. The elf’s body locked in midair, his expression twisting into pain.
“GAARGHHH!!” Baruka screamed, dropping one dagger from the sheer pressure.
Arthur leaned in, whispering with a grin, “Problem?”
Baruka retaliated with two quick punches to Arthur’s chest, desperate blows more from anger than skill.
They barely made him flinch.
Arthur’s smirk didn’t fade. “Very disappointing for someone in the ‘peak’ of his ability.”
Then
BAM!
Arthur’s boot slammed into Baruka’s face, launching him like a cannonball through the air. He crashed into a tree, the trunk exploding into shards of wood, snow collapsing on top of him.
Arthur shook his head, brushing frost off his shoulder. “Two minutes.”
From the heap of snow and splinters, Baruka exploded back out, runes glowing crimson now, his entire body emanating rage. His eyes blazed, no longer cold, but burning with hate.
“YOU DARE...” Baruka bellowed. “YOU DARE TREAT ME LIKE AN INSECT?! I’LL KILL YOU AND FEED YOUR CORPSE TO THE ICE BEARS!”
Arthur raised an eyebrow, a frown creeping across his face. “I literally want you to do that…”
He spread his stance slightly, his posture growing tenser, more ready.
“Otherwise,” he said with glowing eyes and a cold smile, “this will remain boring.”
Baruka vanished again.
Only this time, it was different.
Silence.
Snow.
Fog.
Then slashes.
Multiple.
Fast.
Too fast.
One came from the left Arthur dodged.
Another from the right he blocked with his Doomsday bone gauntlet, catching the blade with a clink.
Another from behind blocked with the second gauntlet.
He spun, catching more strikes, the flurry of blades singing a deadly song as Baruka disappeared and reappeared like a ghost in the snow, each attack faster than the last.
Arthur grinned, the bone plates of his gauntlets crackling with energy.
“Well now…” he said, ducking under a slash and sending an elbow into thin air. “This is an improvement, but how long can you keep this up.”
Baruka’s rage-filled breathing echoed through the fog, his stealth mixing with his fury, the air practically humming with tension.
Arthur flexed his fingers slowly, knuckles cracking like the ticking hands of a countdown clock. His blue-glowing eyes pierced the white storm, scanning every shifting flake, every subtle crunch in the snow, his focus was unbreakable.
Baruka didn’t strike again.
He couldn’t.
Seconds passed. Then, with a low wheeze, the elf stumbled out of the snow-drenched veil, his stealth broken, body battered. His once-pristine cloak was torn and soaked in blood, his runed skin flickering like a failing enchantment, and his breath… shallow, desperate.
Still, in his hand, a dagger remained. His pride clung to that blade like it was his soul.
Arthur took a step forward.
“Time’s out, elf.”
And in that instant, everything changed.
Arthur’s eyes ignited, glowing like twin supernovas as his Bloodlust activated. A pulse of pure, primal dread exploded outward from him, an invisible wave of pressure that crushed the air, made the winds halt mid-howl.
Baruka froze.
His eyes widened, lips trembling. For the first time, the cold-blooded killer of the Ice Elves felt true fear, the kind that tore through bone and soul alike.
He looked into Arthur’s gaze.
And what he saw was death given form.
“N-NO!” he snarled, voice cracking. With one final act of desperation, Baruka roared, and his magic surged, a massive explosion of ice magic erupted around him. Towering spikes of jagged frost burst from the ground like nature’s wrath incarnate, the snowstorm spiraling into a hurricane of Ice blades.
A spectacle of power.
But Arthur didn’t feel like it was a spectacle of power, he saw it more of a death cry.
He walked forward, slowly, like a god parting a sea of lesser elements. The blizzard slammed into him. The ice spires screamed toward his body. But the frost might as well have been a mild inconvenience.
He didn’t stop.
Couldn’t be stopped.
Baruka barely had time to react before Arthur was right in front of him, fist already clenched.
“No… Monarch of...”
BOOM.
Arthur’s punch ripped through the elf’s torso, blood and ice bursting behind him like a crimson spring. The force caved in armor, runes, ribs, everything.
Now mere inches away, Arthur held the pose fist still buried in Baruka’s chest, staring directly into his enemy’s eyes. The sheer cold of the world around them had nothing on the frozen, merciless expression on Arthur’s face.
Baruka’s lips moved, barely forming sound.
Arthur slowly retracted his arm, crimson steam trailing from his gauntlet.
Baruka collapsed to his knees, eyes still open in disbelief, blood soaking into the snow beneath him.
Then he faceplanted forward, lifeless.
Arthur stood still for a moment, the wind curling around him
Then, without hesitation, he knelt beside the fallen body.
His hand pressed to the cold, pale back of Baruka’s corpse.
The runes etched into the elf's flesh flickered one last time… before going dark.
Arthur’s eyes glowed again an ethereal, soul-piercing blue as he uttered a single, commanding word:
“Arise.”
The shadows on the ground trembled. Then surged.
a pool of darkness spread like ink across the snow, and the forest seemed to lean away in fear.
A moment later, A figure emerged.
Baruka, reborn.
But no longer flesh.
His body was black as midnight, clad in dark, spectral armor. Twin shadow-daggers pulsed in his hands, shaped like ethereal fangs. His eyes gleamed with the same piercing blue light as his master’s, cold, calculating, and full of loyalty.
Arthur rose to his feet.
“Baruka… the Elite Knight.” His voice rang out, steady, sharp as a blade. “Not bad.”
He took a step closer, the wind pausing like it awaited his verdict.
“You’ll lead the other Ice Elves in my legion from now on.”
The shadowed elf dropped to one knee, head bowed low, daggers crossed over his chest in solemn respect.
Then suddenly Arthur felt the air ripple, space warping around him like a broken mirror...his eyes narrowed as the world twisted once more.
“… not again.”
