Chapter 4: Hindrance

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Chapter 4


The echoes of footsteps rang throughout the entirety of the dimly lit expanse; the rhythmic cadence of practiced footwork was the only audible presence. Not a word was spoken, nor a hint of casual banter filling the air, for the scene was one of singular purpose: battle and battle alone.

Within the shadowed grandeur of the Underworld's Arena, an illustrious spectacle began its first melody. A formidable waltz of melee, a display of combat prowess that ascended beyond what any bystander could find possible.

As the combatants moved with remarkable grace and precision, the very air seemed to quiver with anticipation. The sounds of the ethereal winds whispered through the colossal structure, adding an eerie backdrop to the impending showdown.

Without warning, a figure came to a sudden, sliding halt at the center of the stadium. With this striking declaration, the warriors paused, their guards momentarily lowered, and they took calm, measured breaths as if collectively embracing a fleeting moment of serenity before the impending storm of battle resumed.

At the heart of this colossal colosseum stood Perseus; his heterochromatic eyes blazed with unyielding resolve, their swirling reflections of the void shining with endless insight as he began strategizing his following motions. With every breath, his shoulders rose and fell like the relentless tides, and his hands alternated between opening and clenching into fists, a testimony to the honed strength and agility that he had worked for.

Opposite him were two formidable opponents, Tartarus and Erebus, both ancient and powerful beings in their own right. The two adversaries were the present contenders in their combative match, a contest of extraordinary proportions.

It had been a few centuries since Perseus had first visited the Land of Punishment - since he had called upon Tartarus's ergonomic teachings. From the very beginning - his introduction into the sport - he had realized the vast difference in power between himself and his siblings.

Yet, despite this incredulous discrepancy, it became evident that Perseus had one talent that deemed him appropriate to face two adversaries of immense strength simultaneously. His speed.

Perseus's physical strength was reasonably minimal; his existence was a mere blip in the timeline, a modest six epochs ago. Tartarus believed that, given time and unwavering determination, his youngest brother could potentially match him in sheer power. The young Protogenos simply was too weak in his current state.

Regardless, Perseus's unparalleled speed that defied logic made him an entirely different force on the battlefield. It was nothing short of outlandish, even unfair, rendering some of Tartarus's guidance seemingly obsolete. In the presence of such speed, the very concept of exerting effort into a defense seemed futile, for Perseus had no intention of allowing himself to be struck by his opponents' blows.

The young prince closed his eyes slowly, breathing out once more to steady himself. His body twitched, a slight shake that put Tartarus and Erebus back on edge.

In the blink of an eye, Perseus vanished; only traces of his ghostly afterimage and the faint imprints of his footprints were evidence of his prior presence. He reappeared with breathtaking rapidity behind Erebus, seamlessly transitioning into his offensive maneuver. He twisted his leg to command an intimidating force before swiping out the god's feet from under him.

Erebus quickly retorted with his own acrobatic ability, flipping gracefully onto his fingertips to prevent himself from being knocked down. However, Perseus was far from finished.

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