My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy
Chapter 110: Spiral Zone

Chapter 110: Spiral Zone

Vincent didn’t flinch.

His hand gripped Randalp’s wrist and flung him overhead. Randalp hit the stone with a thud and rolled to his feet.

No space.

Vincent was there again—right fist to the jaw. Randalp ducked it, punched him twice in the ribs, then stepped back.

Vincent didn’t.

Another swing. Another press.

Every blow was forward. Pressure. Timing. No hesitation.

Randalp blocked the next two, then ducked low and went for the gut—landed it.

Vincent stepped through it and punched him in the mouth.

Randalp hit the ground again. Spit and blood. He pulled himself up before the second hit could land.

Vincent didn’t chase. He let him rise.

Randalp didn’t speak. Neither did Vincent.

Both men shifted again.

Second round coming.

Not a single ability used yet.

Randalp moved first this time—short burst, no hesitation. He led with a feint to the left, then pivoted into a sharp elbow toward Vincent’s sternum. Vincent caught it with his forearm, but the follow-up punch slammed into his side.

Vincent didn’t budge.

Randalp stepped in closer—tight space, no wind-up. Two quick strikes to the ribs. Then a palm strike to the chest.

Vincent staggered back a step.

Then his shard lit.

A red glow cracked across his shoulder. The heat came fast.

Shard Overflow (1/5): Active.

He surged forward. Faster. Harder.

The next punch slammed straight into Randalp’s guard and broke it. One hit to the forearm—Randalp felt the bone shift. Another to the chest—knocked the wind out of him.

Vincent didn’t stop. Every movement had weight now. Sharper edges. He swung again, a hook that tore the air as it moved.

Randalp ducked low and dove forward, rolling past Vincent’s hip. He rose, spun, and—

Pulse Barrier (2/5): Active.

The first plate clicked into place around his right arm. The next rotated across his ribs.

Vincent turned. Jab. Jab. Straight.

The punches hit metal.

First plate cracked.

Second held.

Randalp used the recoil, stepped in, and shoved Vincent hard—chest to chest—and released a quick burst.

Kinetic Reserve (2/5): Active.

The shockwave blasted between them.

Vincent slid backward five feet, boots grinding against the floor. His arm tensed—skin cracking, stone forming over his knuckles.

Weapon Bind (2/5): Active.

His fist didn’t look like a fist anymore. It looked like a forged hammer.

He stepped forward and swung it.

Randalp brought up a new plate—angled it to catch the hit.

It didn’t catch it.

The impact blew through the plate, split it down the center, and drove Randalp to his knees.

Vincent raised the arm again.

Randalp looked up, eyes sharp.

Magnetic Bind (1/5): Active.

Two broken fragments of plate snapped together—one at Vincent’s ankle, one under Randalp’s hand.

He yanked.

Vincent’s foot locked mid-step.

Randalp rose, shoulder to Vincent’s gut, and drove him back into the wall of the arena.

The stone cracked behind him.

Vincent coughed once—but his eyes never changed.

The glow around his shard pulsed again.

He wasn’t slowing down.

Neither was Randalp.

Vincent rolled his neck once, slow and deliberate. Then he brought both fists together with a heavy crack, like a command given in a language older than reason.

The words followed — short, sharp, final.

"Break the cage."

Randalp didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. The air shifted before the man did. Heat bled from Vincent’s skin as the plating along his arms flared outward, fusing across his torso like molten rock finding a new shape. His spine bulged unnaturally, joints locking into a lower stance. That molten glow wasn’t just power anymore — it was breath, pulsing through his limbs like something alive.

His eyes weren’t human. They stared back with no recognition. Just purpose.

Randalp exhaled through his nose and set his feet.

He didn’t bother asking what this was. The answer didn’t matter.

Vincent moved with weight now — not the speed of a soldier, but the force of something that had decided on a direction and didn’t plan to stop. Each step shattered the stone beneath it. The distance closed fast. Tock’s plates flared into position, syncing to Randalp’s posture before the first blow came.

He caught it — barely. The barrier bent inward on impact, didn’t break immediately, but the pressure soaked through his arm like a fracture that hadn’t set yet. The second hit broke the plate. The third didn’t give him time to reset.

Randalp ducked low, felt the rush of air as Vincent’s elbow passed over him, then planted a foot and shoved upward, driving his shoulder into Vincent’s gut. The man — the thing — didn’t give. He slid half a step, no more, before he spun on his heel and hammered Randalp across the ribs.

The floor tilted. Or maybe it was just him falling.

He tasted blood, realized he’d bitten the inside of his cheek. One hand found the ground and pressed hard enough to steady himself. His shirt stuck to his back — not sweat. It was too thick for that. He’d been leaking since the last exchange.

Across from him, Vincent was already Moving again. Not running. Walking. Steady, grounded steps like he was tracking something wounded.

Randalp drew a shallow breath and looked at the plates still spinning near his right shoulder. Tock responded instantly, compressing three of them into a tighter triangle behind his spine. The hum shifted pitch, just slightly — not alarm, not even urgency. Just readiness.

He didn’t need long.

He moved without thinking, let the pressure build in his joints as the plates funneled the impact through his core. His feet left the ground. The force of the release launched him forward — not fast enough to surprise Vincent, but enough to meet him head-on.

His fist landed center mass.

There was no outward burst, no show of energy. The kinetic recoil tunneled inward instead — a collapsing force with nowhere to go but inside the body it struck. Vincent’s chest folded just enough to stagger. Fractures crawled across the molten plates. The glow flickered, then pulsed brighter, like it was angry.

Randalp didn’t stop.

He caught a spinning plate mid-air, one already fractured from an earlier clash, and drove it into the side of his own shoulder. It locked in with a crack and vanished under his skin.