Chapter 263: No Backing Down

Two days ago...

Max and Aragon’s fists collided once more, releasing another shockwave across the ruined landscape and forcing the cracks beneath their feet to spread in every direction. The ground between them collapsed, but neither man allowed the sudden drop to interrupt their exchange.

They fell together while continuing to strike, their fists repeatedly finding damaged ribs, shoulders, and faces until they crashed into the bottom of the newly formed crater.

Aragon landed first and immediately drove his heel toward Max’s chest. Max crossed both arms before the kick connected, yet the force still threw him through the wall of the crater and buried him beneath several meters of shattered earth.

The smaller clock behind Aragon completed half a rotation.

Max burst from the rubble the instant Aragon disappeared, turning toward the position where he expected the emperor to reappear. His fist moved through empty air, missing Aragon by less than the width of a finger before a heavy punch struck the side of his jaw.

His head twisted with the impact, but instead of allowing himself to be thrown away, Max caught Aragon’s wrist and pulled him closer. Their foreheads collided hard enough to split the ground beneath them, sending blood pouring from both of their noses.

"Good," Aragon muttered as a grin spread across his bloodied face.

Max answered by driving his knee into the emperor’s stomach.

Aragon folded around the strike before bringing both fists down against Max’s back, slamming him face-first into the ground. Max pushed himself upward before the next attack arrived, twisted beneath Aragon’s descending arm, and struck him beneath the chin with enough force to lift his enormous body from the crater.

Golden flames erupted beneath Max’s feet as he followed him into the air. He struck Aragon twice across the chest, then gathered purple ice around his heel and kicked him back toward the earth.

Aragon crashed several hundred meters away. The ground rose around his body before collapsing inward, adding another crater to the countless wounds their battle had already carved across the land.

By then, there were no forests or hills remaining near them. Every tree had either been torn from the ground or reduced to splinters beneath their attacks, while the hills had collapsed into uneven fields of broken stone. Cracks wide enough to swallow buildings stretched between the craters and continued deepening whenever another shockwave passed through them.

Aragon climbed from the rubble and spat several broken teeth into his palm. The damaged clock turned behind him, pulling crimson magic across his mouth until the blood stopped flowing, but the missing teeth did not return.

He looked at them for a moment before throwing them aside.

"That kick was better."

Max wiped the blood from his chin. "Your punch wasn’t bad."

Neither man said anything more.

They rushed forward and met between the craters, abandoning what little distance remained between them. Aragon’s larger body allowed him to place more weight behind every attack, but his movements had become easier for Max to read. The clock still accelerated him, yet the cracks spreading across its surface forced its hands to hesitate before every sudden movement.

However, understanding the ability did not make Aragon any less dangerous.

Their battle continued until the sun disappeared below the horizon. Neither man knew how many punches they had exchanged, nor how far they had traveled from the place where their fight began. They only followed one another through the destruction, refusing to remain down whenever a successful attack sent them across the ruins.

Eventually, their bodies stopped answering them.

Max attempted to rise after being thrown through the remains of a stone ridge, but his arms collapsed beneath him. Several hundred meters away, Aragon remained seated inside another crater, breathing so heavily that each movement of his chest disturbed the dust covering his body.

For the first time in hours, neither of them moved.

The smaller clock continued turning behind Aragon, although its hands now required several seconds to complete the smallest movement. Golden flames flickered weakly around Max’s feet before disappearing, leaving both fighters with nothing except their exhausted bodies.

No agreement was spoken between them. Neither asked for time to recover, and neither promised not to attack. They simply watched one another across the broken land while their breathing gradually slowed.

Nearly an hour passed before Aragon placed one hand against the ground and forced himself to stand.

Max rose at the same time.

Aragon laughed quietly when he noticed. "Ready?"

"Come."

They collided beneath the moonlight.

At the beginning of their battle, either man would have avoided such obvious attacks. Now they no longer possessed enough strength to escape every fist. They protected their throats, hearts and heads whenever possible, allowing less dangerous blows to land so they could answer with attacks of their own.

Blood covered their bodies and dried beneath layers of dust. Their knuckles had split open long ago, leaving every punch to spread fresh blood across the skin of the man receiving it. Aragon’s left eye had swollen almost completely shut, while Max could no longer raise his injured arm above his shoulder without feeling the damaged bone shift.

Still, they continued.

The earth beneath them finally failed to endure any more punishment. Cracks connected across several kilometers before entire sections of the battlefield collapsed, dragging broken hills and enormous slabs of stone into the darkness below.

Max caught the edge of the newly formed ravine with one hand. Aragon struck the wall farther down, drove his fingers into the stone, and stopped himself from falling.

For several moments, they hung above the darkness and stared at one another.

Aragon began laughing first.

Max pulled himself onto the edge without responding, then lay upon his back and closed his eyes. A moment later, Aragon climbed out on the opposite side and did the same.

The second rest lasted until sunrise.

Neither man slept deeply. Whenever one shifted, the other opened his eyes and prepared to rise, but their exhaustion eventually forced them both to remain still. The first sunlight revealed the full extent of the damage surrounding them, yet neither fighter paid any attention to what their battle had created.

Aragon sat up and pressed one hand against his ribs. "You cracked three."

"You broke two of mine," Max answered without opening his eyes.

"Only two?"

Max finally looked toward him. "Try harder."

Aragon’s laughter echoed through the ravine as both men slowly returned to their feet.

The second day began with another collision.

Their remaining magic weakened as the hours passed. Aragon used the smaller clock only when Max left an opening too valuable to ignore, while Max preserved his golden flames and purple ice for the moments when his body could no longer produce enough speed on its own.

Most of their battle had become a contest between fists, endurance, and the refusal to fall.

They fought across the edges of the ravine until Aragon struck Max hard enough to send him to the opposite side.

Max landed against the fractured ground, rolled across one shoulder, and pushed forward before the emperor could rest. Purple ice spread beneath his foot, holding the broken stone together long enough for him to launch himself across the opening.

Aragon raised both arms as Max’s fist struck them. The collision forced him backward, carving two long trenches beneath his feet, yet he remained standing and answered with a punch that caught Max across the chest.

Max felt another rib bend beneath the attack. He clenched his teeth, stepped through the pain, and struck Aragon’s wounded eye.

The emperor’s head snapped sideways.

"Beautiful punch," Aragon said as blood flowed down his cheek.

He swung blindly toward Max’s voice and landed an equally powerful strike against his mouth.

Max spat blood between them. "That one too."

The afternoon passed without another word.

They fought until their legs could no longer carry them, rested wherever they fell, then rose and continued the moment either man recovered enough strength to form a fist.

Sometimes their rests lasted only several minutes. Others continued for nearly an hour, with both men sitting among the ruins and watching the sunlight move across the destroyed land.

As the second sunset approached, the smaller clock behind Aragon finally stopped.

Its cracked hands trembled without completing another rotation, while the crimson frame surrounding them faded until only a weak outline remained. Aragon glanced over his shoulder, then returned his attention to Max without attempting to force it back into motion.

Max’s flames had disappeared as well. Purple ice no longer gathered beneath his feet, and his injured arm hung uselessly beside his body.

They stood on opposite sides of the final piece of unbroken ground, surrounded by a landscape that had been split apart in every direction. Both breathed through bloodied mouths, their bodies swaying whenever the earth moved beneath them.

Aragon slowly raised his fists.

Max lifted his remaining arm.

"Again," Aragon said.

Max stepped forward as a strange tingling spread through his right arm. Terrifying energy gathered around his fist, causing the confidence upon Aragon’s face to disappear for the first time since their battle began.