Moon Beam settled into his palm, finding its place among the calluses and scars. The tattoo on Hadjar’s back lit up. Vortices of energy swirled around his legs, and from time to time, one could spot the silhouette of a dancing dragon in it.
His blue eyes flashed with determination. Hadjar was ready for the battle ahead. He waited for it as anxiously as a mother standing at the door, waiting for her lost son.
The buffalo roared. Its mighty cry made small pebbles jump up and fall back down into the sea, heated by its body and breath.
Hadjar used his best sword strike. His sword cut through the space faster than stars falling from the sky. For a moment, it might’ve looked like Hadjar’s sword had cut the sea in half, crushed the stones, and that a white strip had appeared in the air, disappearing immediately afterward.
Hadjar’s attack was the strongest that he’d ever used because his most terrifying enemy stood before him. This enemy didn’t want to take anything away from Hadjar. Just his freedom.
The buffalo blocked the wave of sword energy capable of mortally wounding a Heaven Soldier of the initial stage on its horns. It looked as if a real storm of steel light was raging on its horns as dragons roared within it. Then everything went quiet. The buffalo shook its head a couple of times and the storm disappeared. Torn to shreds, it fell into the sea, dissolving into nothingness among the white foam and waves.
Breathing heavily, Hadjar retreated a step. His hair was drenched and stuck to his sweaty forehead. He wasn’t going to give up. Not now, not when the horizon was so close...
He placed his palm on the blade and a whirlwind of energy started circling around his feet again. It rose up to his knees and the dragon within it became much more distinct.
Moon Beam flared with a steel light. It trembled and seemed to groan, unable to contain the energy of its owner. This attack was even stronger and faster than the previous one.
“Spring Wind!” Hadjar roared out.
For the previous attack, he’d used only his own energy and knowledge about the Way of the Sword, but now... The dragon Traves’ Technique had been added to them, capable of strengthening any attack. Hadjar felt the supply of the world’s energy inside him drop by almost a quarter. However, it was worth it.
The vertical strike rushing toward the buffalo cut through the water and stones with ease. It forced the air to sing a plaintive song, and the sound of the surf faded before the roar of a ghostly dragon, whose fangs were concealed in this attack.
The buffalo tilted its head, angling its horns forward. The attack collided with them, but didn’t disappear like its predecessor. The monster roared. Thick blood coated its black fur. The strike, however, hadn’t been able to cut through its strong skull. It had only pushed the buffalo a few yards back. High waves rose and fell on the stones with a crash. Steam drifted up into the sky, but that was all.
The ‘obstacle’ still stood before Hadjar. And what did the Mad General usually do when he was faced with one? When he was weighed down by the strongest chains? He broke them.
A hundred times more, Hadjar launched attack after attack, roaring as he did so. A thousand times, he rushed into melee range, pitting his blade against the horns. The fight nearly destroyed everything around them. Nobody knew just how many days, weeks, months, or even years had passed during this incessant battle.
Hadjar didn’t feel hunger, thirst, or fatigue. Every time the supply of world’s energy in his body ran out, it was replenished again by some miracle.
Sometimes, their battle stopped. A small pause in the endless noise of steel striking against horns and the scarlet blooms in the aftermath. During these moments, Hadjar would sit on the stones and look into the buffalo’s eyes intently.
He couldn’t look away. The few times he turned away from the buffalo, he always saw the same thing — the black, frightening horizon filled with storms and hurricanes — but then it would immediately be obstructed by the buffalo.
If Hadjar was tired, the monster was tired as well. If Hadjar was ready to fight, the monster was ready as well.
It was like a dance. A dance of the rocky shore and restless water. The water would beat against the stones, trying to make it farther inland to something new and unknown. The stones withstood even the most violent of its attacks steadfastly, becoming a little worn, but never ceding completely.
After so much time had passed that the King’s Palace could’ve disappeared into the sands of time and forgotten the name of the legendary Mad General, their battle finally came to a close.
Hadjar rose to his feet and walked to the very edge. He was a step away from the abyss. The buffalo stood in front of him. Hadjar reached out and put his hand on the monster’s forehead. Like water faced with an insurmountable obstacle, Hadjar found humility before his own unconquerable challenge. He was a simple man. Not a genius or a hero. He didn’t want much and didn’t aspire to lofty ideals. He just lived and that was all...
The calm world around them was suddenly crushed by something powerful and desperate. As if the mother who’d been standing at the door had seen that her wounded son would never come home. Like the mother, who would take off and rush toward him, overcoming all obstacles in her path, the wind broke through and into this artificial world. Mountains rose to meet it, but the wind went around them. Lightning bolts tried to hit it, but it cut through them. Waves blocked its path,
