Magus Supremacy - Chapter 737
Capítulo 737: Memories of the Past (2)
CHAPTER 737
“You want a fight? Fine then. Let’s fight, and I promise you, I won’t be going easy on your sorry ass!” Yami growled as his eyes took on a dark glint.
“Fine then.” Azrael spat as he sharply pushed himself off the ground.
Yami took a stance, his gaze sharp like a blade.
His hands rose before him like a seasoned boxer’s guard, muscles tense while faint currents of wind rustled through his hair.
The sound of rain outside filled the dungeon, further deepening the atmosphere.
It felt as though the world itself was mourning the shattered bond between two brothers as Azrael assumed his own posture within the confined space.
Thunder roared above, echoing through the stone like a decree from the heavens, signaling the beginning of the duel.
No words followed. No taunts. No hesitation.
The brothers dashed toward each other with everything they had.
Yami was noticeably slower due to his battered state, yet sheer will forced his body to respond as they collided at the center of the chamber.
No weapons were drawn.
Only fists, martial techniques, and raw Ki collided in violent succession.
Blazing strikes crashed together, knuckles slamming against knuckles with a sharp, ringing impact that reverberated through the dungeon.
Yami felt the bones in his hand scream in protest.
A surge of pain shot through his skull as his entire arm was blasted backward from the initial exchange.
He clenched his teeth, refusing to let the agony dictate his movements, and barely caught sight of Azrael closing in again.
Azrael’s arm shot downward in a brutal overhead strike.
Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, Yami ducked beneath the blow, the fist slicing through the air just inches above his head.
But he had underestimated his younger brother’s growth.
Before Yami could react, Azrael pivoted sharply on his heel and drove his knee into Yami’s abdomen with crushing force.
The impact knocked the air from Yami’s lungs as blood sprayed from his mouth.
His body was sent stumbling backward, balance completely lost.
“Unfortunately for you, I’m now a stage three warrior,” Azrael said with a twisted grin as Ki surged around his feet.
In the next instant, he launched forward like a fired projectile.
The speed was overwhelming.
Yami barely registered the motion before his face was seized and violently slammed through the wall behind him with a deafening crash.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone as his vision blurred, pain exploding through his skull.
His eyes nearly rolled back as his body sagged against the broken surface.
Blood filled his mouth as he gasped, choking while his consciousness threatened to slip.
Grinding his teeth, Yami forced himself to stay present.
Through the haze, he saw Azrael retreat a step before kicking off the ground once more.
A powerful leg swung toward Yami’s head with merciless speed.
Clutching his aching abdomen, Ki flared around Yami’s legs as he hurled himself sideways with everything he had left.
Azrael’s foot missed his face by mere inches, slamming into the wall with thunderous force and causing the entire dungeon to shudder violently.
The Cromwell dungeon was notoriously sturdy, strong enough to restrain even a stage six warrior.
Because of that, two weakened fighters could not fully destroy it.
Still, the intensity of the clash sent waves of fear through the surrounding cells.
The prisoners knew exactly where the battle was taking place and who occupied that particular chamber.
An elderly man in the cell beside Yami trembled as the impacts grew louder, his heart pounding with dread.
‘… It’s happening.’
Rolling across the ground, Yami’s fingers closed around the remains of his shattered bed.
With a roar of effort, he hurled the broken frame straight toward the advancing Azrael.
Azrael reacted instantly, ducking beneath the flying debris as it smashed into the wall behind him with a heavy crash, splintering further upon impact.
But unfortunately for him, it was a feint.
Yami had already surged forward, his posture hunched low as his arms wrapped tightly around Azrael’s waist.
With Ki violently swirling through his limbs, he hoisted his younger brother upward and, without hesitation, drove him straight into the ground.
A deep crevice instantly formed beneath them as dust and debris burst into the air.
Grinding his teeth, Yami ignored the burning agony coursing through his battered body as he raised his fists and began raining punch after punch onto Azrael’s face.
Blood splattered with every impact, crimson droplets staining the stone as Yami refused to grant his brother even a second to recover or retaliate.
“Get off me!” Azrael bellowed.
He sharply tilted his head aside, allowing one of Yami’s punches to miss and slam into the ground instead.
In one fluid motion, Azrael’s hands shot forward, locking around Yami’s throat.
With a violent twist of his body, he slammed his older brother into the ground with brutal force.
Blood burst from Yami’s nose as he gagged, choking on his own saliva while his vision blurred.
Before he could steady himself or draw a proper breath, Azrael seized his face with both hands and smashed it into the same spot again and again.
Each impact deepened the fractures in the floor as blood occasionally sprayed into the air.
The repeated slams echoed through the dungeon, blending with the rumble of thunder and the relentless pounding of rain outside.
After satisfying himself, Azrael finally released his grip and stood over a whimpering Yami.
He staggered back a few steps, chest heaving as he wiped the blood from the corner of his lips.
His gaze remained fixed on his older brother, who lay twitching helplessly on the ground.
“Look at you. Pathetic. Such a disgrace,” Azrael sneered.
“Don’t you dare call yourself a Cromwell again. You are a stain on our family.”
With those words, he turned away.
His eyes swept the room one last time before he let out a sharp huff and began stomping toward the exit, leaving Yami broken and trembling on the cold stone.
Yami drifted in and out of consciousness.
His breathing grew ragged, each inhale burning his lungs as though fire scorched his chest from within.
Several ribs felt shattered, and his head throbbed violently, the repeated impacts leaving him dizzy and disoriented.
In truth, his condition was so dire that it seemed unlikely he would survive.
Then suddenly, a whisper slipped into his ears from the cell beside him.
There was a small hole in the wall connecting the two cells, something Azrael had failed to notice.
From that narrow opening, the elderly man occupying the adjacent cell spoke in a hushed voice as Azrael continued walking away.
“Yami… this is your chance. I know you are defeated, injured, and barely standing, but you will not get another opportunity like this.”
The old man paused briefly before continuing.
“It is raining heavily, so the guards above did not hear the clash. Use this moment and apply what I taught you to escape. I cannot leave because I am too old, but that is not the case for you.”
His voice softened.
“If nothing else, do it for your future. For yourself, for the family you will one day have. Trust me. This is what your mother would have wanted.”
Those words echoed endlessly in Yami’s mind.
— It’s what your mum would have wanted.
The phrase rang again and again in his ears, forcing a deep, rasping breath from his lungs as his consciousness snapped fully back into place.
“So get up, Yami. Show the Cromwells that you are no pushover!” the old man shouted, his voice unintentionally rising.
The sudden yell caused Azrael to halt mid-step.
‘Who said that?!’
“Cough, cough…” Yami rasped as he forced himself upright. “Hey Azrael… I’m not done yet.”