I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Chapter 180: It's the ring

The Vex's mansion's grand hall, once a refined space, now lay in ruins. Shattered stone and splintered wood littered the floor, a stark backdrop for the three figures locked in vicious combat. As the sun climbed higher, its rays filtering through cracked windows, the very air was permeated with exhausted magic and raw desperation.

Gustavo's enchanted blade, its green glow now dim and flickering, sailed through the air. With a sickening crunch, it embedded itself in a far wall, leaving its wielder empty-handed. Malachi's smirk was triumphant, but short-lived as Mordred's fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head back.

"That all you got, pretty boy?" Malachi taunted, spitting blood. "I've had harder slaps from my grandmother!"

Mordred growled, frustration evident as he attempted to summon another blade. Nothing materialized. "Damn it!" he cursed, barely dodging Malachi's retaliatory swing.

Gustavo, moving with agonizing slowness, launched himself at Malachi's midsection. The two went down in a tangle of limbs, rolling across the debris-strewn floor. Gustavo's poisoned muscles screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth, landing a solid punch to Malachi's ribs.

"Oh, was that supposed to hurt?" Malachi wheezed, his bravado belied by the wince of pain. He bucked, throwing Gustavo off. "I've had more threatening massages!"

Mordred dove in, aiming a vicious kick at Malachi's head. The stone-wielder rolled at the last second, Mordred's foot connecting with nothing but air. Off-balance, Mordred stumbled, leaving himself open.

Malachi capitalized instantly, driving his elbow into Mordred's solar plexus. The summoner doubled over, gasping for breath. "What's wrong?" Malachi sneered. "Can't fight without your little tricks?"

Gustavo struggled to his feet, his vision swimming. 'Focus, damn it!' he berated himself. 'You've survived worse than this!'

"Have you, though?" Malachi laughed, as if reading his thoughts. He grabbed Mordred by the hair, yanking his head back. "Tell me, Gustavo, how many times have you truly stared death in the face? Because I assure you, today will be your last."

With a roar of defiance, Gustavo charged. His fist connected with Malachi's cheek, the satisfying crunch of cartilage was like a small victory. But Malachi barely flinched, his grip on Mordred unwavering.

"Is that all?" Malachi's eyes gleamed with malice. "Let me show you how it's done."

His fist blurred, catching Gustavo square in the nose. Blood exploded, hot and metallic, as Gustavo staggered back. Malachi pressed his advantage, raining blows on both his opponents with inhuman speed.

Mordred, finally breaking free, spat out a tooth. "You hit like a petulant child, Vex," he snarled. "My mother could do better, and she's been dead for decades!"

"Charming," Malachi replied, ducking under Mordred's wild swing. "Perhaps I should pay her a visit. I hear the dead are better company than you lot.Maybe her pot would still be hot for my kind,"

Gustavo, his face a mess of blood and bruises, lunged forward. He managed to grab Malachi's arm, twisting it behind his back. "Got you, you smug bastard!"

Malachi's laughter echoed through the hall. "Oh, Gustavo. Always so confident, even when you're hopelessly outmatched." With a grunt of effort, he broke the hold, spinning to deliver a devastating uppercut to Gustavo's jaw.

Gustavo's head snapped back, stars exploding in his vision. He tasted blood, his tongue probing a loose tooth. 'This isn't right,' he thought hazily. 'No one should be this strong...'

Mordred, seizing the momentary distraction, tackled Malachi from behind. The two went down hard, grappling furiously. Mordred managed to land a solid elbow to Malachi's temple, drawing blood.

"First blood!" Mordred crowed. "Not so invincible after all, are you?"

Malachi's response was a headbutt that left Mordred reeling. "Invincible? No. But more than enough to handle you pathetic excuses for assassins."

Gustavo rejoined the fray, his movements sluggish but determined. He and Mordred fell into a rhythm, one attacking while the other defended, trying to wear Malachi down.

But for every blow they landed, Malachi seemed to return two. His fists were like jackhammers, each impact leaving bruises that bloomed instantly. Yet even as they accumulated injuries, both Gustavo and Mordred felt a dark thrill.

"You know," Gustavo panted, spitting out blood, "there's something to be said for the old ways. No magic, just fists and fury."

Mordred nodded, his eye already swelling shut. "Indeed. Though I must say, Vex, your technique is atrocious. Who taught you to fight, a drunken bear?"

Malachi's laugh was genuine this time. "Oh, you'd be surprised. But enough chatter. Let's see how you fare against someone who doesn't hold back!"

The fight intensified, becoming a brutal ballet of violence. Bones cracked, flesh split, and blood painted the ruined floor. Yet through it all, a grudging respect began to form between the combatants.

"I must admit," Malachi grunted, absorbing a vicious kick from Mordred, "you two aren't entirely useless. Perhaps I underestimated you."

Gustavo, his ribs screaming in protest, managed a savage grin. "Careful, Vex. That almost sounded like a compliment."

"Don't let it go to your head," Malachi retorted, his fist connecting with Gustavo's temple. "You're still going to die here."

Mordred, landing a solid hit to Malachi's kidney, chuckled darkly. "Bold of you to assume we'll stay dead. The dark arts have their uses, after all."

Malachi's eyes gleamed with interest. "Oh? And what makes you so certain I haven't dabbled in those same arts?"

The realization hit Gustavo and Mordred simultaneously. They exchanged a glance, newfound wariness in their eyes.

"He's right," Gustavo muttered. "No one should be this strong naturally. Not after everything we've thrown at him."

Mordred nodded, his gaze sharp despite his injuries. "There's more at play here. But what?"

As if in answer, Malachi's ring glinted in the sunlight streaming through the broken windows. The momentary flash caught Mordred's attention, pieces falling into place.

"The ring!" he hissed to Gustavo. "It's an amplifier. That's how he's maintaining this level of power!"

Gustavo's eyes narrowed, focusing on the ornate band adorning Malachi's finger. "Of course. Magical items, always complicating things."

Malachi, noticing their scrutiny, waggled his fingers mockingly. "Admiring my jewelry, gentlemen? I'm flattered, but I'm afraid it's not for sale."

"Who said anything about buying?" Mordred snarled, lunging forward with renewed purpose.

The fight took on a new dimension, Gustavo and Mordred coordinating their attacks with a singular goal – separating Malachi from his ring. But even with this knowledge, victory remained elusive.

Mordred seized an opening, driving his knee into Malachi's stomach. The earth-wielder grunted, doubling over, but quickly retaliated with a vicious uppercut that sent Mordred sprawling.

"Is that all you've got?" Malachi taunted, his eyes wild with battle frenzy. "I've had more challenging workouts with my chamber maids!"

Gustavo, shaking off the dizziness, charged forward. "Let's see how you handle this, you overblown dirt-pusher!" He unleashed a flurry of punches, most glancing off Malachi's raised arms, but a few finding their mark on his ribs.

Malachi grunted, then grinned through bloodied teeth. "Tickles. My turn." His fist shot out, catching Gustavo square in the nose. Blood erupted, and Gustavo stumbled back, cursing.

Mordred, back on his feet, circled around. "You fight like a drunken dockworker, Vex. All brawn, no finesse."

"Better than fighting like a limp-wristed noble's brat," Malachi shot back, narrowly avoiding Mordred's roundhouse kick.

Malachi danced between them, his enhanced strength and speed keeping him just out of reach. "Come now," he taunted, "surely you can do better than this? Or have I truly broken your spirit along with your bodies?"

Gustavo, his poisoned body screaming in protest, pushed himself to the limit. "The only thing broken here will be your smug face, Vex!"

He feinted left, drawing Malachi's attention. Mordred, seizing the opening, dove for Malachi's hand. His fingers brushed the ring, hope surging—

Only to have it dashed as Malachi's other hand clamped around his throat, lifting him off the ground. "Nice try," Malachi sneered, "but not good enough."

Gustavo, seeing Mordred's predicament, made a desperate gamble. He charged forward, tackling Malachi around the waist. The sudden impact caused Malachi to lose his grip on Mordred, all three men crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

They grappled furiously, a mass of flailing fists and gnashing teeth. Blood and sweat mingled, turning the debris-strewn floor treacherous. Through it all, Malachi's ring glinted mockingly, just out of reach.

"You know," Malachi grunted, his elbow connecting with Mordred's solar plexus, "I almost respect your tenacity. It's a shame you chose the wrong side."

Gustavo, his vision blurring from exhaustion, managed a wheezing laugh. "Wrong side? That's rich coming from you, Vex. How many innocents have suffered for your 'greater good'?"

Malachi's eyes flashed dangerously. "Innocents? There are no innocents in this world, Gustavo. Only those who seize power and those too weak to hold onto it."

Mordred, spitting out blood, fixed Malachi with a contemptuous glare. "And that justifies everything, does it? You're no better than the tyrants you claim to oppose like us."

"Better?" Malachi laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "I'm not trying to be better. I'm trying to survive. And if that means getting my hands dirty, so be it. In more than one ways, we are similar with only two difference. I'm rich and I am not an outcast like you scums!!"

The fight raged on, each man pushing beyond their limits. Bones cracked, flesh tore, and still they fought. It was no longer about victory or defeat, but a primal struggle for survival.

As the sun reached its zenith, bathing the ruined hall in harsh light, the three combatants stood locked in a deadly embrace. Bloodied, battered, but unbowed, they glared at each other with a mixture of hatred and grudging respect.

Malachi, his breath coming in ragged gasps, managed a sardonic smile. "Well, gentlemen. Shall we end this farce once and for all?"

Gustavo and Mordred exchanged a glance, a lifetime of understanding passing between them in an instant.

"Whenever you're ready, Vex," Gustavo growled.

Mordred's grin was feral, his eyes gleaming with dark anticipation. "Let's finish this."