The Duel of Titans: Zen vs. Admiral Xhu

  The real battle was yet to come. After hours of bloodshed, the Southern Kingdom forces retreated, their formations broken and their numbers decimated. Cheers erupted across the Beast Folk ships and along the coastline of the Sugar Islands as the enemy vessels disappeared over the horizon. Victory appeared complete.

  But then, cutting through the celebration, a single vessel emerged from the mist-shrouded waters. Unlike the ornate warships that had preceded it, this craft was sleek and predatory—a blade of darkness slicing through the azure waves. Its hull was painted midnight black, absorbing rather than reflecting the afternoon sun. No insignias marked its allegiance, but every Beast Folk warrior who laid eyes upon it felt an instinctive dread.

  On its polished deck stood just two men.

  Zen, hovering on currents of his own making, narrowed his blind eyes as he sensed the overwhelming power emanating from the vessel. The dagger at his hip pulsed with equal parts fear and hunger—an unprecedented reaction that sent ice through his veins.

  Careful, little mage, the dagger whispered in his mind. These are no ordinary sailors.

  Ignoring the warning, Zen descended toward the ship, wind magic propelling him with fluid grace. He landed on the obsidian deck with barely a sound, his coat billowing around him as the air settled.

  "Who are you?" he demanded, voice steady despite the trembling in his chest that he couldn't explain.

  The taller of the two men turned slowly. Admiral Xhu stood nearly seven feet tall, his frame impossibly broad and corded with muscle that seemed to strain against the confines of his immaculate white uniform. His face was a sculpture of harsh angles—cheekbones like blade edges, jaw like granite, eyes like twin coals burning with contempt. Not a hair was out of place on his severe military cut.

  "Like I would waste words on a pathetic worm like you," Admiral Xhu replied, his voice a resonant bass that seemed to vibrate through the deck planks.

  Before Zen could react—before he could even think to react—Xhu moved. The movement defied human limitation, a blur of white uniform and polished boot. One moment the admiral stood ten paces away, the next his foot connected with Zen's chest in a perfectly executed front kick.

  The impact was catastrophic. Zen felt his ribs crack like dry twigs under a hammer, the protective barrier of wind magic he maintained instinctively shattering as if it were made of spun sugar. His body launched backward with such velocity that the air tore at his clothing and skin. The deck, the ship, the sky—all blurred together as he rocketed helplessly through space.

  When he hit the water, it wasn't like entering liquid but like striking a wall of concrete. The ocean parted around him with an explosive splash as he plunged into the depths, unconsciousness threatening to claim him as water rushed into his lungs.

  Back on the deck, Admiral Sui—lean and languid where his companion was massive and rigid—raised an eyebrow. With his half-buttoned uniform, messy hair, and perpetual five o'clock shadow, he appeared the antithesis of military discipline.

  "Did you really have to do that?" Sui asked, absently rolling a silver coin across his knuckles.

  Admiral Xhu's expression didn't change as he adjusted his immaculate white gloves. "Yes. I don't have time to waste on a pathetic child like him."

  Sui produced a cigarette and lit it with a casual snap of his fingers, a small flame dancing on his fingertip. "Jeez, strict much?" he drawled, exhaling a perfect ring of smoke that transformed into a tiny dragon before dissipating.

  Two hundred feet below the surface, suspended in the crushing darkness, Zen's consciousness flickered like a candle in a storm. Blood clouded the water around him, leaking from his mouth, nose, and ears. His lungs burned for oxygen, his body desperate to inhale despite the watery grave surrounding him.

  Do you wish to die here? the dagger's voice cut through his fading awareness. After everything we've accomplished?

  The young mage's eyes snapped open, blind orbs glowing with renewed determination. With a mental command that sent agony lancing through his shattered ribcage, he summoned his wind magic. Water exploded outward as a bubble of compressed air formed around him, halting his descent. Then, with a gesture that sent blood streaming from his nose with the effort, he propelled himself upward.

  The ocean surface erupted like a geyser as Zen shot into the air, water streaming from his soaked clothing. Wind magic kept him aloft as he gasped desperately, each breath sending white-hot pain through his broken body. Blood dripped steadily from his chin onto his already-soaked coat.

  "Da—damn dirty trick," he managed to spit out, the words accompanied by a spray of crimson.

  Admiral Xhu's eyes narrowed fractionally—the only indication of his surprise at seeing the boy alive. Without a word, he launched into the same devastating kick, his massive body moving with impossible speed.

  This time, Zen was ready. He twisted sideways, the kick missing him by millimeters. He could feel the displaced air buffet his face as the admiral's boot passed by. In the same fluid motion, Zen channeled his elemental magic, combining fire and water into a highly condensed sphere of superheated steam.

  The translucent orb shot from his palms, expanding explosively as it struck the admiral square in the chest. Steam hissed outward with enough pressure to cut through steel, enveloping Xhu in a scalding cloud.

  When the vapor cleared, Xhu stood unmoved, his expression unchanged. The only evidence of the attack was his uniform jacket, now in tatters that exposed a torso latticed with scars and rippling with muscle.

  "Child's play," Xhu stated flatly, discarding the remnants of his jacket with a casual flick of his wrist.

  Before Zen could retreat, the admiral closed the distance between them. What followed wasn't so much a fistfight as it was a systematic dismantling. Xhu's massive fists moved with surgical precision, each strike carefully calculated for maximum damage while avoiding fatal points.

  A right cross caught Zen in the shoulder, the impact so severe that the joint dislocated with an audible pop. A left uppercut to the solar plexus lifted him off his feet, emptying his lungs and leaving him gasping like a landed fish. A knife-hand strike to the throat nearly collapsed his windpipe.

  Zen, desperately trying to create distance, conjured a gale-force wind that would have blown any normal opponent off the ship entirely. Xhu merely leaned into it, advancing step by inexorable step, his massive form cutting through the magical tempest like a battleship through choppy waves.

  Blood flowing freely from a dozen wounds, Zen took to the sky. Twenty feet up, then fifty, then a hundred—rising vertically on a column of swirling air, he began combining elements with frantic intensity. Earth pulled from the distant islands formed a protective shell around his body. Fire superheated the stone until it glowed cherry-red. Water from the ocean below cooled the exterior, creating a crust while keeping the interior molten.

  Below, Admiral Sui watched with genuine interest, tapping ash from his cigarette. "Gotta say, he's impressive. I don't know any mage who can combine magic that fast and accurately." With a casual gesture, he created a shimmering barrier around himself and Xhu as Zen's creation—a sphere of magma the size of a small house—hurtled toward the ship.

  The projectile struck the barrier with apocalyptic force. For a moment, reality itself seemed to warp around the point of impact. The ocean nearby flash-boiled, creating a massive cloud of steam. The barrier held, though Sui's relaxed posture finally tensed, his eyebrows rising as he poured more power into his protection.

  When the steam cleared, Xhu was gone from his side.

  The admiral had launched himself skyward with impossible strength, his body leaving a sonic boom in his wake as he rocketed toward Zen. As he ascended, his massive arms burst into white-hot flame—not engulfed by fire but transformed into it, as if his very flesh had become elemental energy.

  The impact as he collided with Zen created a thunderclap that shattered windows in villages five miles distant. The admiral's flaming fists became a blur, striking with such speed that they left afterimages trailing through the air. Each impact scorched through Zen's defenses, burning flesh and shattering bone.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Is this all the Beast Kingdom's champion can offer?" Xhu's voice remained perfectly calm despite the frenzy of his attack. "Pathetic."

  A devastating hook caught Zen's jaw, spinning him through the air like a rag doll. A flaming uppercut followed, launching him higher into the sky. A double-handed hammer blow crashed down onto his back, sending him plummeting toward the ocean below.

  Zen struck the water with such force that the sea parted, exposing the ocean floor momentarily before crashing back together in a massive wave that rocked nearby vessels. The impact would have killed an ordinary man instantly, pulverizing organs and shattering every bone.

  Admiral Xhu descended gracefully back to the deck of his ship, the flames receding from his arms as he landed. He turned his back on the churning waters where Zen had disappeared, straightening his cuffs as he rejoined his companion.

  "Disappointing," he remarked. "I expected more from someone who defeated an entire fleet."

  Admiral Sui inhaled deeply on his cigarette, eyes still fixed on the disturbed waters. "I wouldn't turn your back just yet," he warned, a note of tension entering his normally casual voice.

  The ocean's surface began to glow with an unnatural light—first blue, then green, then a sickly purple that seemed to distort the very air above it. Slowly, a figure rose from the depths.

  Zen hovered above the water, his body a ruined mess of broken bones and torn flesh. Blood poured from countless wounds, dyeing the sea red below him. His right arm hung useless at an unnatural angle. His left eye was swollen shut, and several teeth were missing from his bloody smile. By all rights, he should have been dead.

  But the dagger at his hip pulsed with malevolent energy, feeding strength into his shattered frame. His remaining eye blazed with determination bordering on madness.

  "I W-WON'T DIE LIKE THIS!" he screamed, blood spraying from his lips with each word. "NOT TO YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

  With a surge of wind magic that cost him dearly—fresh blood erupting from his ears and nose with the effort—Zen propelled himself higher into the sky. Higher than he'd ever gone before, until the ship below looked like a toy and the oceans and islands spread out like a map beneath him.

  "Well, look at that. He's running for his life," Admiral Sui remarked, flicking his spent cigarette into the ocean.

  Admiral Xhu's eyes narrowed as he watched the distant figure. "No. He's not."

  In the stratosphere, Zen began an incantation unlike any he'd attempted before. The dagger guided his hands through arcane gestures, its ancient knowledge flowing into him. He began pulling elements from the world below—not the basic elements of traditional magic, but the fundamental building blocks of reality itself.

  He manipulated nuclear forces, rearranging the very fabric of matter with gestures that left burning afterimages in the air. Oxygen atoms split and recombined. Hydrogen compressed to impossible densities. Elements transformed into their unstable isotopes, vibrating with barely contained energy.

  Between his palms formed a sphere of absolute darkness that somehow radiated blinding light—a paradox made manifest, a violation of natural law.

  On the deck of the ship, Admiral Sui's casual demeanor evaporated. "What is he doing? What is that?" For the first time, genuine alarm colored his voice.

  Admiral Xhu was already moving, his massive body launching into the air once more, flames erupting around him as he accelerated to impossible speed. "I don't know. But it doesn't look good."

  But it was too late. As Xhu reached the halfway point to Zen's position, the young mage thrust his creation downward with the last of his strength.

  "THIS IS FOR EVERYONE YOU'VE KILLED!" Zen screamed, his voice lost in the thin air as the sphere of concentrated destruction descended.

  Admiral Xhu reversed direction, racing back toward the ship. "BARRIER!" he commanded, his usually controlled voice raised in urgent command.

  Admiral Sui's hands moved in complex patterns, a dome of shimmering energy expanding around their vessel just as the sphere made contact with Admiral Xhu's descending form.

  For one frozen moment, nothing happened.

  Then, reality tore itself apart.

  The detonation began as a pinprick of impossibly bright light that expanded outward in a perfect sphere of destruction. The shockwave traveled at supersonic speed, vaporizing the water below and creating a rapidly expanding dome in the ocean's surface. The light was blinding, visible from hundreds of miles away—a new, short-lived sun born of human magic and desperation.

  Zen, caught in the outer edge of the blast, was hurled through the air like a leaf in a hurricane. His body, already broken beyond reasonable survival, absorbed enough radiation to kill a hundred men. The heat seared his exposed skin, the pressure shattered what few bones remained intact, and still the dagger kept him alive, its dark magic refusing to let its host perish.

  He was thrown nearly five miles before striking the ocean again, skipping across its surface like a stone before sinking into merciful unconsciousness.

  On an island nearly fifty miles away, Billy shielded his eyes as the horizon turned to daylight despite the late hour. The shockwave reached him seconds later, knocking him from his perch atop a rocky outcropping.

  "Wh-what the fuck?" he gasped, scrambling back to his feet as dust and debris rained around him. The mushroom cloud rising in the distance was unmistakable in its terrible majesty. "Was that Zen's doing? Well, shit..."

  He watched as birds fled the island en masse, their instincts driving them away from the invisible death spreading across the waters. The very air seemed to vibrate with aftershocks, the world fundamentally changed in an instant.

  "Kid's either the bravest hero I've ever seen," Billy muttered to himself, reaching for his hip flask with a trembling hand, "or the scariest monster this world's ever known."

  On another island nearly seventy miles from ground zero, Aoi paused in the methodical cleaning of his blood-caked blades. His eyes narrowed as he observed the distant flash, calculating distance, yield, and effect with machine-like precision.

  "Tactical assessment: Nuclear detonation. Approximate yield: 35 megatons. Shockwave incoming," he stated to the terrified Beast Folk gathered around him.

  Without further comment, he moved the group into a nearby cave, positioning them away from the entrance. When the shockwave hit minutes later, shaking the very foundations of the island and uprooting trees by the hundreds, Aoi stood unmoved at the cave mouth, observing the destruction with clinical detachment.

  "Probability of Admiral survival: uncertain. Probability of Zen survival: minimal," he calculated aloud. "Strategic impact: significant."

  Inside his chest, something unfamiliar stirred—an emotion the assassin recognized from his studies but rarely experienced personally: concern. Not for himself, but for the young mage who had somehow become important to him.

  Aboard the Queen Anne's Revenge II, sixty miles from the detonation point, Blackbeard grabbed the ship's railing as the vessel rocked violently in suddenly rough seas. His wild eyes widened at the towering pillar of fire and smoke rising from where he'd last seen Zen confronting the mysterious vessel.

  "Holy shit," he breathed, the fuses in his beard momentarily forgotten as they singed his wild hair. "What in the seven hells is that?"

  His crew fell to their knees, many making religious gestures or muttering prayers to forgotten gods. The sky darkened as the mushroom cloud spread outward, blotting out the sun. Fish began washing up on the nearby shores, killed by the shockwave traveling through the water.

  "Cap'n," Israel Hands whispered, his normally fearless demeanor shaken, "is this the end times?"

  Blackbeard's weathered face split in a grim smile. "No, Mr. Hands. This is what happens when you corner someone who's got nothing left to lose." He turned to his crew, voice rising to a bellow. "ALL HANDS! MAKE FOR THE WESTERN ISLANDS! WE NEED TO FIND OUR YOUNG FRIEND!"

  As the Queen Anne's Revenge II turned westward, Blackbeard kept his eyes on the fading explosion. "Whoever or whatever that boy is," he muttered, "he's just changed the face of warfare forever."

  In the Beast Kingdom capital, hundreds of miles distant, citizens gathered in the streets, pointing at the strange light on the horizon. In his palace, the Beast King himself stood on his balcony, massive lion features set in grim comprehension.

  "So," he rumbled to his assembled generals, "the weapon has been used."

  His oldest advisor, a tortoise Beast Folk of incredible age, shook his head slowly. "This was not part of the agreement with the boy. The consequences will be... severe."

  The Beast King's mane ruffled in the suddenly gusting wind that carried the first traces of radioactive particles. "Post watches along all coasts. Send scouts to the Sugar Islands." His massive paw clenched on the balcony railing, cracking the marble. "And pray to whatever gods you believe in that we have not just witnessed the opening salvo of the end of all things."

  In the Eastern Kingdom, monks at the temple where Zen had trained looked up from their meditations as the very fabric of magic itself seemed to shudder. The eldest among them, Master Kwan, opened eyes that had been closed in meditation for a decade.

  "He has done it," the ancient master whispered, a tear tracking down his wrinkled cheek. "Heaven help us all."

  And on a small, unremarkable island fifty miles from the detonation, a broken body washed ashore with the incoming tide. Zen lay face-down in the sand, his clothes in tatters, his skin blistered and peeling from radiation exposure. His right arm was gone entirely, vaporized in the explosion. What remained of his once-youthful face was unrecognizable, burned beyond healing.

  Yet still he lived, the dagger strapped to his remaining hip pulsing with satisfied hunger. It had fed well this day on the thousands of souls extinguished in an instant, and it would not allow its host to perish while their journey together remained unfinished.

  Zen's charred lips moved slightly, forming words no human ear could hear:

  "Did... I... get them?"

  Miles distant, through the settling radioactive dust, a single black ship sailed undamaged, its protective barrier finally lowering. On its deck, Admiral Xhu stood with his uniform in tatters but his body unmarked, staring thoughtfully at the dissipating mushroom cloud.

  Beside him, Admiral Sui lit a fresh cigarette with shaking hands. "That was... closer than comfortable."

  Admiral Xhu's cold eyes narrowed. "The boy will need to be eliminated permanently. Such power cannot be allowed to exist unchecked."

  "If he survived that," Sui remarked, "I'm not sure we can eliminate him."

  For the first time, the ghost of a smile touched Xhu's stern features. "Everyone can die, Admiral Sui. Some just require more... creative approaches."

  As their ship sailed away from the devastation site, birds began falling dead from the sky, poisoned by invisible death that would linger for generations to come. The war for the Sugar Islands had just escalated beyond anyone's wildest nightmares, and the world would never be the same again.