All Novel Full Chapter 1277 Michael vs Noah II
Chapter 1277 Michael vs Noah II
As the storm above them roared with the fury of battling hydras, Michael and Noah resumed their fierce duel on the battered landscape below. Noah, nimble and acrobatic, darted around Michael, his movements a blur of grace and deadly intent. He swung his twin swords in sweeping arcs, each strike a dance of steel aimed at exploiting any opening in Michael’s defense.
On the other hand, Michael countered with less finesse but with overwhelming brute force. Each block and parry from his dark swords was delivered with such power that it sent shockwaves through the air. When Michael attacked, it was with devastating strikes, each one capable of shattering stone and bone alike.
“Is that the best you can do? It requires more than just brute strength to end me!” Noah taunted as he flipped over a low sweep, landing perfectly to deliver a series of rapid thrusts.
Michael grunted, the edge of Noah’s blade grazing his armor. Ignoring the sting of cuts accumulating on his arms and sides, Michael responded. “You dance around too much. Let’s see you dodge this!” With a thunderous roar, Michael swung his sword horizontally with such force that it tore through the air, creating a sonic boom.
Noah narrowly evaded the strike, feeling the heat of the blade as it passed inches from his face. He rolled to the side, coming up with his swords crossed defensively. “Your rage blinds you! Eve wouldn’t have wanted any of this!”
The mention of Eve fueled Michael’s fury as he launched forward with renewed aggression. His strikes became a barrage, relentless and punishing. Noah was forced to retreat under the onslaught, and his own attacks became more desperate.
“Watch the gods battle!” Salesi said with an amused tone.
“End this, Supreme Guardian!” Noah’s soldiers responded with shouts of their own, rallying behind their leader.
Despite their encouragement, Noah was struggling to keep up with Michael’s raw power. A particularly vicious swing from Michael’s sword caught Noah off-guard, the blade slicing deep into his side, drawing a pained gasp from him.
Michael didn’t pause, pressing his advantage. He closed in, his next strike aimed squarely at Noah’s head. Noah ducked under the swing at the last second, feeling the wind of the blade whip through his hair. He counterattacked with a precise jab aimed at Michael’s abdomen, piercing the armor and drawing blood.
“Darkness cannot triumph the light, Ghost” Noah spat, his face set in a grimace as he twisted the blade before pulling back, ready for Michael’s inevitable retaliation.
Wasting no time, the two of the dashed at each other and swung their swords with all their might.
As their swords clanged with a resounding crash, the sheer force of the impact jarred their weapons from their hands, sending them skittering across the muddy battlefield. For a fleeting moment, the loss of their swords left them exposed, but neither of them hesitated. Their roars filled the air as they summoned the deepest reserves of their power, channeling the raw power of their primordial flames.
Michael’s fists ignited with dark, swirling flames that absorbed light, creating a void around them, while Noah’s hands blazed with brilliant light flames, casting intense rays that sliced through the darkness. They charged toward each other, driven by the anger that had built over time.
Their fists collided mid-air, and the resulting explosion of power was cataclysmic. A blinding flash of silver light erupted, enveloping the battlefield and momentarily blinding all who were watching. The shockwave from their clash was powerful enough to knock back nearby soldiers and form cracks on the ground.
As the light subsided, both Michael and Noah were flung backward, landing heavily on the ground. They struggled to regain their bearings, feeling the residual energy crackling in the air.
High above, the realm crack in the sky responded to the unleashed energies below. It widened further, the edges tearing with increased ferocity as barrier between two realms seemed to strain under the force. Mugashuku seized this opportunity, its roars thundering across the heavens. With a renewed surge of strength, it gripped Vedora more tightly, its multiple heads coordinating a massive push.
Vedora, caught in Mugashuku’s relentless assault, was driven backward, its own roars of fury and resistance echoing as it struggled against the overwhelming force. Mugashuku’s efforts were singularly focused on propelling Vedora towards the expanding tear in reality, intent on banishing the undead hydra back through the rift from where it came.
On the ground, Michael spat the blood from his mouth and, with a defiant growl, kicked back to his feet. He wiped the blood trickling from his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving Noah. Meanwhile, Noah looked down at his hand in dismay. The sight was gruesome as his bone protruded from his skin, the hand grotesquely twisted from the impact. Despite the searing pain, Noah’s resolve did not waver. With a grunt of determination, he manually realigned his hand, the sound of bone scraping against bone echoing disturbingly in the near silence that followed the clash. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he quickly uncorked a healing potion and downed it in one swift gulp.
“No amount of healing potion will save you from me,” Michael taunted, his voice a low rumble of deadly promise.
Noah clenched his teeth as the potent magic of the healing potion knitted his bones back together. His flesh healed at an accelerated pace, the visible wounds closing as if being stitched by an invisible hand. Standing up straight, he clenched and unclenched his healed hand, testing its strength. The pain had subsided, replaced by a burning determination.
Slowly, with a grimace that spoke of both pain and resolve, Noah approached Michael. His eyes, usually calm and collected, now burned with a fire fueled by a complex mix of duty, vengeance, and desperation.
“This ends today, Ghost,” Noah declared.
“One way or another.”
Michael simply nodded, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he readied himself. Just as the two brothers hesitated, a shield flew out of nowhere, landing squarely between them. Startled, Michael and Noah both turned toward the direction from which the shield had come. Approaching them was a figure clad entirely in black—a long coat, shirt, and trousers. It was their mother, Harriet Hunt AKA Diana Winston.
“Mother…” Noah murmured, his voice a mix of surprise and confusion.
Michael remained silent, his expression unreadable, but his posture subtly relaxed at the sight of Harriet. She moved toward them with determined steps, her twin swords held tightly at her side, her coat fluttering in the tumultuous winds stirred by the battle of the hydras.
“Mother, you need to leave,” Noah said, glancing warily at Michael, whose eyes still held a dangerous glint.
However, Harriet’s gaze didn’t waver from her sons; it was filled with an intense mix of sadness and anger. “I am here to stop you two from killing each other. So stand down,” she commanded, her voice cold and firm, lacking its usual gentleness.
“He dies tonight,” Michael’s voice was icy as he declared and charged at Noah with lethal intent. However, Harriet reacted with incredible speed, her movements almost a blur despite the absence of arch energy due to Mugashuku’s void effect.
As Michael’s dark swords flew into his hands and he swung furiously at Noah, Harriet intervened expertly. She parried his blows with her twin swords, her skills honed by decades of combat. With a precise and forceful push, she managed to separate Michael from Noah, creating a brief pause in their deadly dance.
“Enough, Dean!” Harriet’s voice cracked like a whip through the air, her eyes flashing with maternal fury mixed with a plea. “This is not the way!”
Michael, chest heaving with exertion and anger, glared at his brother, then at his mother. His expression was a turbulent mix of pain and defiance, but he held his position, the dark swords still ready in his grasp.
Harriet turned her gaze to Noah, who was clutching his newly healed arm, his face etched with conflict. “And you, Noah. Lower your weapons. This ends now.”
“No,” Noah shook his head, his expression resolute and tinged with sorrow. “One of us will die today, Mother,” he declared, and with a powerful stomp that shook the ground, his swords flew into his hands. He charged at Michael, his movements fueled by a desperate sense of finality.
But Harriet was quicker. She stepped in with grace and precision honed over decades, her twin swords a blur as she intercepted Noah. She blocked his advance with a series of swift, controlled strikes that forced him back.
“Enough, both of you!” Harriet’s voice boomed over the roar of the battling hydras above and the chaos surrounding them.
Not to be deterred, Michael lunged forward, his dark swords aimed at Noah. Yet again, Harriet intervened, her blades meeting Michael’s with a clash of steel that sent sparks flying. She twirled her swords with expert finesse, pushing Michael back with one arm and blocking Noah with the other.
“Listen to me!” Harriet exclaimed as she danced between her two sons, her movements both defensive and offensive. She parried a thrust from Noah and countered with a gentle but firm push against his chest, sending him staggering. Simultaneously, she ducked under a wide swing from Michael.
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The battle showcased Harriet’s formidable prowess as she managed to keep both her sons at bay. Each move she made was calculated to incapacitate without causing serious harm, her swords occasionally tapping against their armor in warning rather than with intent to injure.
Her agility and skill were evident as she weaved through the onslaught of blows from her sons, her face set in a mask of determination. It was a dance of desperation, trying to quell the storm of violence between her children with the hope of reaching their hearts before it was too late.
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