Time seemed to slow as Sengoku reached for his sword, his fingers curling around the familiar hilt of Astro. The legendary blade gleamed with an inner light as he drew it from its sheath, the metal singing softly through the air. He settled into his fighting stance, muscles tensed and ready.
Yamato's eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing across his lips. With deliberate slowness, he unsheathed his own weapon—Necrotic, the dark sword whose very edge seemed to devour the light around it. The blade emanated a subtle, sickly glow as Yamato mirrored Sengoku's stance.
"I've waited for this," Yamato said, his voice carrying on the wind. "To test my blade against the famous holy sword Astro."
Sengoku didn't respond with words. His answer came in the form of movement—a lightning-fast charge that covered the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Astro came down in a powerful overhead strike that would have split a lesser opponent in two.
But Yamato wasn't a lesser opponent.
Necrotic rose to meet Astro, the blades connecting with a thunderous crash that sent shockwaves rippling through the air. Sparks cascaded around them as the two swords—one of light, one of darkness—tested each other's strength.
"Is that all?" Yamato taunted, pushing back against Sengoku's weight.
They broke apart and immediately clashed again, the sound of steel on steel echoing across the battlefield. Sengoku's style was precise and efficient, each strike calculated and powerful. Yamato fought with controlled fury, his movements fluid yet savage.
For several minutes, neither gained an advantage. Their blades became blurs of motion, too fast for ordinary eyes to follow. The ground beneath them cracked from the force of their exchanges. Where Astro struck, light flared; where Necrotic countered, shadows gathered.
Sengoku spun low, aiming for Yamato's legs, but his opponent leapt high above the strike. Yamato countered with a downward slash that Sengoku barely deflected. The force of the blow drove Sengoku back several paces.
"You've improved since our last encounter," Yamato acknowledged, advancing steadily. "But not enough."
Sengoku wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow. "We've only just begun."
They circled each other cautiously. Sengoku knew he needed to end this quickly. Princess Argia was already gravely wounded from the pillar embedded in her stomach, and the Cyclops army couldn't hold out forever against Yamato's forces.
He lunged forward, unleashing a series of rapid strikes that forced Yamato into a defensive position. For a moment, it seemed Sengoku had gained the upper hand. Astro gleamed brighter with each strike, responding to Sengoku's determination.
But Yamato had been holding back.
With terrifying speed, he parried Sengoku's next attack and countered with a vicious slash. Sengoku twisted to avoid it, but wasn't quite fast enough. Necrotic's edge caught him across the chest, tearing through his armor, scales and flesh.
Sengoku gasped as white-hot pain lanced through his body. The cut wasn't just physical—Necrotic's dark energy seeped into the wound, turning his blood black and sending waves of agony through every nerve. He staggered backward, one hand pressed against the gash that now poured his lifeblood onto the ground.
Yamato advanced slowly, savoring his advantage. "The mighty Sengoku, brought low at last. I expected more."
Sengoku tried to lift Astro, but his strength was fading rapidly. The dark energy from Necrotic was spreading through his system, making his limbs feel leaden. His vision blurred as he struggled to remain standing.
"Now," Yamato said, raising Necrotic for the final blow, "I'll end this once and for all."
The sword descended in a dark arc aimed at Sengoku's neck. But the killing strike never landed.
A massive hand shot forward, attempting to catch Yamato with a powerful punch. The Cyclops princess Argia, despite the enormous pillar still protruding from her stomach, had summoned her remaining strength for one final act of defiance.
Yamato, sensing the attack, dodged at the last second. Argia's fist crashed into the ground where he had stood, creating a small crater from the impact.
Seeing that her punch had missed, and noting the burning desire for Sengoku's death in Yamato's eyes, Argia made a split-second decision. She grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it directly into Yamato's face, temporarily blinding him.
With Yamato momentarily incapacitated, Argia reached out with her massive hands. She carefully gathered the barely conscious Sengoku, his six wives, Ron, and Hayato into her grasp.
"What are you doing?" Ron shouted, realizing her intent.
"Saving you," Argia replied, her voice strained with pain. Blood flowed freely from around the pillar in her abdomen. "He needs help. You all do."
She adopted a position for throwing, her muscles tensing with the last of her strength.
Sengoku tried to protest, to tell her to save herself, but no words came from his mouth as consciousness slipped further away from him.
With a mighty effort, Argia spun her body and hurled them through the air toward the distant Yangzho castle, using her incredible Cyclops strength to launch them beyond the battlefield.
Yamato cleared his eyes just in time to witness their departure. His face contorted with rage as he watched them soar toward safety. With a howl of frustration, he turned back to Argia, who stood swaying, a smile of satisfaction on her pained face.
"You'll pay for that interference," Yamato snarled, retrieving Necrotic.
Without hesitation, he drove forward and thrust another pillar into Argia's belly, directly into the same wound. The princess gasped, her single eye widening with shock and pain. But as life ebbed from her body, a smile remained on her face—the smile of one who had accomplished her final purpose.
Yamato attempted to pursue the group, racing in the direction they had been thrown. But even his supernatural speed was insufficient—Argia's throw had carried them too far, too fast. They had already disappeared beyond the walls of Yangzho castle. He skidded to a halt, tilting his head back to unleash a frustrated scream that echoed across the battlefield.
The Cyclopes attacking the castle witnessed the flying forms of their princess and Sengoku's group pass overhead. Recognizing Princess Argia among them, and seeing the direction they were headed, the Cyclops army immediately ceased their assault on Yangzho castle. Without a word being spoken, they began to retreat in an orderly fashion, falling back to regroup and understand what had happened to their royal leader.
Meanwhile, Ron and Hayato, both skilled in the magical arts, managed to cast landing spells that cushioned their descent as they approached the ground near the castle walls.
The six wives of Sengoku activated their dragon-scale defenses, their skin hardening to absorb the impact as they hit the ground.
Sengoku's body, however, remained limp and unresponsive. The wound from Necrotic was unlike any ordinary injury—the dark sword's malevolent energy continued to spread through his system, causing him excruciating pain when he finally regained consciousness minutes later.
His eyes fluttered open to see his wives and friends gathered around him, their faces etched with concern. "Astro," he managed to whisper through clenched teeth. "My sword... on the wound..."
The six wives exchanged worried glances, but complied with his request. They carefully placed the holy sword Astro directly on Sengoku's chest wound. With tremendous effort, Sengoku raised his hand and gripped the hilt of his own weapon.
The moment his fingers closed around Astro, the sword began to emit an ethereal, pulsing glow. The light spread across Sengoku's chest, penetrating deeply into the wound. Where Necrotic's energy had turned his blood black, Astro's light purified it once more. The edges of the gash began to pull together, new tissue forming before their eyes until finally, the wound sealed itself completely.
Sengoku drew a deep, shuddering breath as the worst of the pain subsided. Though healed externally, the internal damage would take longer to mend, and his strength was still severely depleted.
Outside the castle walls, the Cyclops army had gathered but made no move to attack. They waited, uncertain about what had transpired and desperately hoping for news of their princess.
"I need to speak with them," Sengoku said, attempting to rise.
"You need rest," his first wife insisted, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"No," Sengoku replied, his eyes filling with tears. "They deserve to know what happened. I owe them that much."
Despite the protests of his wives, Sengoku was determined. Ron finally understood his friend's need and stepped forward. "Let me help you," he said, offering his shoulder for support.
Leaning heavily on Ron, Sengoku made his painful way toward the castle gates. Orders were given, and the massive doors swung open to allow them passage. The Cyclops army stood silently as Sengoku and Ron approached, their single eyes fixed on the pair—and notably, on the absence of their princess.
A massive Cyclops stepped forward from the ranks. "What has happened?" he demanded, his deep voice rumbling with concern. "Where is Princess Argia?"
Sengoku's legs nearly gave out beneath him. The grief he felt was almost as debilitating as his physical injuries. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice breaking. "I failed you all."
With Ron's help, Sengoku recounted what had transpired—Argia's brave intervention, her sacrifice to save them, and Yamato's final, cruel act. As he spoke, tears streamed down his face, unchecked and unashamed.
The Cyclopes listened in stunned silence. When Sengoku finished, many of the giant warriors were openly weeping, their massive frames shaking with grief. Their last royal bloodline, their hope for the future, had been extinguished.
"Please forgive me," Sengoku pleaded, dropping to his knees despite his injuries. "I should have protected her. She saved my life when I should have saved hers."
The lead Cyclops, Aragos, stepped forward. His enormous hand reached down, not to strike in anger as some might have expected, but to gently help Sengoku back to his feet.
"It is not your fault," Aragos said, his voice thick with emotion. "It is ours, for being too weak to protect our own princess. We have failed her, not you."
Sengoku shook his head, unable to accept their forgiveness so easily. For the first time in his storied career as a warrior, he had not only failed to protect someone under his care but had been rescued by the very person he had sworn to defend. The weight of that failure crushed his spirit more effectively than any physical blow.
"But know this," Aragos continued, looking out at his assembled warriors, who nodded in solemn agreement. "We will not surrender to despair. We will not allow Princess Argia's sacrifice to be in vain."
The massive Cyclops knelt before Sengoku, a gesture of profound respect from a proud warrior.
"We pledge ourselves to your cause," Aragos declared. "From this day forward, the Cyclops army stands with you. When the time comes to face Yamato again, call upon us. We will answer, and together, we will avenge our beloved Princess Argia's death."
As the Cyclops army knelt in unison behind their leader, Sengoku realized that Argia's final act hadn't just saved his life—it had forged an alliance that might yet change the course of the war. Her sacrifice would not be forgotten, nor would it be in vain.
But first, he needed to heal, to regain his strength. The next confrontation with Yamato would come soon enough, and when it did, Sengoku vowed to be ready to strike back.