I Died and Became a Noble's Heir-Chapter 358: Stop holding back

The lightning web contracted with violent speed. Rhys tried to dodge, using wind enhancement to escape the closing trap, but the web moved faster than he had anticipated.

Red lightning wrapped around his legs, arms, and torso, locking muscles into involuntary rigidity. He tried to channel wind magic to break free, but the lightning interfered with mana flow, making precise control nearly impossible.

"This was something that I upgraded after I thought for a little bit. Why place a field that someone has to walk into, when I can make the web come to you?" Jack sneered as he walked slowly towards Rhys.

He stopped perhaps three feet from Rhys’s immobilized form, his red eyes studying the green tattoos still pulsing despite the electrical assault.

"Sylph’s manifestation is trying to protect you," Jack observed. "Pushing healing magic through the stunning effect. That’s good instinct. But it’s not enough to actually break free, is it?"

Rhys gritted his teeth, forcing mana through channels that the lightning tried to block. The green tattoos flared with renewed intensity as he channeled more power, accepting the pain that came with fighting through the electrical interference.

’Push through it,’ Sylph’s voice urged. ’The field is powerful but not unbreakable. Channel wind magic directly through your manifestation.’

Rhys followed the instruction, shifting his approach from conventional casting to channeling power through the spirit manifestation itself.

The green tattoos blazed with light that outshone the red lightning, and wind began gathering despite the Static Field’s interference.

Jack’s eyebrows rose with genuine surprise. "Clever, you’re getting better. I didn’t expect you to even have the strength to fight back. Color me impressed."

The compliment carried no mockery this time.

But Jack didn’t wait for Rhys to fully break free.

His right leg swept up in a devastating kick that caught Rhys in the chest despite the Static Field still partially restraining him. The impact combined physical force with electrical discharge, and Rhys felt ribs crack under the assault.

The kick launched him backward with force that tore through the Static Field’s remaining bonds. He flew across the garrison, crashed into the stone wall hard enough to crater the reinforced surface, and dropped to the floor in a heap of dust and debris.

Pain exploded through his entire body, cracked ribs, bruised organs, strained muscles, and electrical burns across his skin where the lightning had contacted most intensely.

The green tattoos pulsed frantically, Sylph’s healing working overtime to prevent critical damage.

’That could have been worse,’ Sylph observed with dark humor. ’At least nothing vital ruptured.’

’Define ’vital,’’ Rhys thought back, struggling to stand despite protesting everything.

’You’re still conscious and capable of movement,’ Sylph replied begrudgingly. ’So you have the basic functions you need to continue.’

Jack walked forward without rushing. "You’re tougher than I gave you credit for. Most people would stay down after that. The fact that you’re standing again is genuinely impressive."

Rhys forced himself upright, using the wall for support until his legs remembered how to bear weight. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and breathing sent sharp pains through his chest, but he was alive. Barely alive, but that was enough.

"Not... done... yet," he managed, the words coming out strangled.

"I can see that," Jack acknowledged. "Come at me with everything you’ve got. Stop holding back and fight me."

Rhys took a painful but necessary breath and let Sylph’s power flood through him without restraint. The green tattoos blazed with light, illuminating the entire garrison, and the wind gathered with force, making the air hum violently.

He raised both daggers overhead and brought them down in synchronized arcs.

The wind blades that released weren’t the concentrated crescents from earlier. These were massive, fifteen feet wide, glowing with condensed power. They screamed toward Jack with speeds that broke sound barriers, each blade carrying enough force to slice through reinforced steel.

Three horizontal slashes. Three vertical cuts. Two diagonal sweeps.

Eight wind blades total.

Jack’s grin widened with genuine excitement.

His hands came together in a thunderous clap that echoed through the garrison like divine judgment.

Thunder Clap.

A ball of electrical force exploded from Jack’s palms, expanding outward in a spherical wave that met the wind blades head-on. The techniques collided in midair with force that shattered stone and sent shockwaves rippling through the garrison’s foundations.

The explosion should have pushed Rhys flying as it had in their previous duel, ending the fight with the same humiliating moment.

But this time was different.

Rhys’s hands moved in desperate synchronization, and wind currents condensed into a barrier directly in front of him. The compressed air met Thunder Clap’s expanding force and detonated in a controlled explosion, creating opposing pressure.

Instead of flying backward, Rhys held his ground.

His boots scraped against stone as the forces balanced precariously, neither technique overwhelming the other. The green tattoos blazed with light that rivaled the sun, and blood vessels burst across his arms from the strain of channeling this much power.

But he stayed on his feet.

When the explosion finally dissipated, Rhys stood perhaps ten paces from his original position.

Jack’s expression shifted from amused mockery to a menacing grin.

"You countered Thunder Clap," he said quietly. "Created an opposing force to neutralize the push-back effect. That’s... actually impressive, Rhys. The last time this technique was used, it ended our fight immediately. Now you’re adapting mid-combat and finding counters to techniques that should be overwhelming you."

He reached into the air, his hand passing through reality itself into system storage.

When his hand returned, it held Oscar, the cursed spear.

Rhys’s enhanced perception immediately recognized the spike in threat level. Whatever casual engagement had existed before disappeared the moment that spear materialized.

{JACK!!!}

....

{DON’T PUT ME BACK INTO THAT BLACK ABYSS!!!!}

....

{DON’T IGNORE ME I WAS LONELY!!!!}

’Calm down, Oscar. It’s okay. I won’t put you back in there. I’ll even get you some alone time with Aisha.’

{You better not be lying.}

’I have never lied to you before, Oscar. I will make it up to you. But right now we get to have some fun.’

Jack’s stance shifted, and Rhys didn’t recognize what he was doing. He was balanced on his back foot, spear held high overhead with the tip angled forty-five degrees past his head. It looked almost ceremonial

But the killing intent radiating from that stance was unmistakable.

"You’ve earned this," Jack said quietly, his voice carrying none of the earlier mockery. "You’ve proven you’re not the same fighter I beat months ago. You’ve adapted, grown, and shown me I can let loose in this fight."

Red lightning intensified around his body, crackling across his skin in a way that made the air itself vibrate with contained energy.

His red eyes blazed with focus that had been absent during their earlier exchanges.

"Let’s get serious!" Jack grinned as he stared directly into Rhys’s soul.

The garrison fell absolutely silent. Nobles held their breath. Guards shifted uncomfortably. Even the ambient wind that Rhys had been unconsciously generating died to complete stillness.

Alaric leaned in, genuinely interested.

And Rhys, standing in the center of the garrison with blood trickling from his mouth and green tattoos blazing across his battered body, understood with absolute certainty that everything until this moment had been prologue.

The real fight was about to begin.