Enoch Razvolnic 3

As Doyun landed, Lancelot once again closed distances aggressively this time around instead.

A lethal thrusting technique striking forth in perfect linear trajectories – transcending conventional sword arts altogether through sheer pinpoint accuracy alongside singular depth treating one-dimensional conceptual “points” as precise striking coordinates:

[Buske’s Style Swordsmanship – Spear Thrusting]

Doyun countered by thrusting his own blade inwards reciprocally. Yet his defensive response clearly represented something else altogether:

During one particular regressed timeline, a technique Vuyskr had developed as the perfect counter against the Buske Spear Thrusts along with every other thrusting attack overall after exchanging duels against Enoch’s own Buske prowess repeatedly.

Both sword tips intersected without the slightest margin for error – neither deviating deflections nor glancing blows, just two one-dimensional conceptual blades thrusting decisively inwards altogether.

Ksheohhhhnnngggg-

Perfectly aligned vertically, concentric shockwaves radiated outwards from that head-on collision’s epicenter tremendously.

Yet the resulting aftermath remained anything but equal by any metrics whatsoever:

Lancelot’s armored gauntlet, wrist, elbow and shoulder joints progressively buckled and collapsed inwards with successive resounding crunches altogether.

That technique reflected the opponent’s thrusting force back with double the intensity – Buske’s Spear Deflection at its quintessence.

“…!”

Lancelot visibly recoiled at such inconceivable precision beyond his wildest comprehensions altogether.

Observing stoically throughout, Brudhild nodded solemnly:

‘This outcome had been preordained.’

The Patriarch’s current martial prowess differed negligibly compared to Brudhild’s own elevated levels post-awakening overall.

Engaging any given Vanguard Commander directly remained feasible yet decisive victory remained far from assured under any circumstances.

Yet he systematically dismantled an adversary even Brudhild herself could not defeat through conventional matchups whatsoever – precisely as she had anticipated unfolding altogether.

Mirroring Doyun’s earlier victory against the Saint King during their initial encounter, this engagement showcased immensely profound dynamics:

Doyun as the paramount Buske Style grandmaster squaring off against Lancelot essentially emanating Brudhild’s equivalent mastery levels – a battle between ultimate master and disciple in all but namesake alone.

Utilizing the exact same sword arts, Doyun already dominated decisive elemental superiorities across technical proficiencies altogether.

Experiencing such overwhelming disparities firsthand for the very first time ever, Lancelot’s own clarity rapidly disintegrated into utter disarray altogether:

‘I’m… losing to him with the Buske Style itself…?’

And Doyun showed no mercy whatsoever pressing that rapidly escalating onslaught like a merciless firestorm unleashed:

As Doyun swept his sword laterally outwards, those broad arcing slashes propagated outwards spawning myriad branching thrust trajectories fanning forth simultaneously in every direction.

Witnessing that technique firsthand, Lancelot’s metaphysical eyes widened within his vacant helmet in visible dismay:

‘Razvolnic’s Blooming Lotus…!’

A signature technique Enoch had utilized against Lancelot innumerable times over a century ago during their past cataclysmic clashes – intimately familiar to them both in its fundamental mechanics altogether.

Rather than retreat, Lancelot charged straight inwards amidst those diverging thrust paths – that technique’s inherent blind spot after all.

Yet Doyun’s blade swept sideways lacerating Lancelot’s flank unforgivingly – nearly bisecting him completely outright altogether.

Kwadduhukt-

“…!”

As Doyun rotated further widening that lateral slash’s arcs, the branching thrust paths spiraled consecutively back inwards following that spiraling trajectory – rending into Lancelot’s sides like rotating sawblades altogether.

Kakagagahk-

“Kuhk…!”

“How foolish.”

The Razvolnic Style originated from the Buske foundations after all. That precise spiraling slashes begetting consecutive thrust paths represented the Buske’s original Wagon Wheel technique itself:

‘As expected – utterly slapdash improvisations.’

Also the very technique Vuyskr had effortlessly neutralized when Enoch first unveiled it against the Sword Sage all those centuries ago.

‘Mere fragments you’ve assimilated it seems.’

“Paltry shavings you acquired at most.”

Doyun sneered disdainfully while lashing out with consecutive overhead diagonal strikes – cleaving with enough force to literally bifurcate Lancelot into four separate quarters altogether.

Sensing imminent peril, Lancelot finally adopted defensive techniques repositioning backwards hurriedly.

His blade inscribed across solidified terrain surfaces – Kagakahk.

That injected mana reverberated violently upheaving the surroundings outwards in widespread magma geyser eruptions blasting forth shallowly yet spanning incredible surface coverage areas directly inbetween both combatants.

[Buske’s Style Swordsmanship – Earth Dragon]

Those magma tides bisected that interim battleground prompting Lancelot leaping backwards clutching his freely bleeding flanks urgently.

Yet Doyun simply charged straight through that obscuring volcanic deluge without the slightest pause whatsoever – prompting Lancelot recoiling incredulously despite himself altogether.

Those cloak fabrics deflected most lava sprays yet Doyun’s facial visage alongside mane scorched partially while molten rock splashed across his irises directly.

Yet those unflinching eyes still tracked Lancelot’s retreating movements steadfastly even under such intense conditions – an almost maniacal obsession fueling that relentless pursuit to the bitter end.

“Madman…!”

Level 8 Fortitude, that top-tier artifact cloak, alongside those anti-flame elixirs dispensed by Vinir ages ago – layered defenses stacked upon defenses enabling such uncompromising brutalities utterly impossible during any prior lifetimes whatsoever.

And any minor singeing sensations or blindings simply overridden through sheer mental focus and unbridled wrath altogether in turn.

Rather than any relenting respites, Doyun simply kept pressing his offensive swinging that blade forth once more – its sweeping arcs deflecting those molten sprays effortlessly alongside accumulated viscosities alike.

Every molten droplet cleaved asunder steadily fueled greater inertial mass transferring into blade momentum – that intricate blade trail carefully conserving rather than bleeding off any kinetic transfers whatsoever into those ensuing sword strikes directly.

Another ancient Razvolnic precursor technique evolved from Buske foundational roots altogether:

[Buske’s Style Swordsmanship – Blade Winds]

Those empowered gale force winds wreathed around that sword blade combined with superheated thermal drafts alongside molten projectile weights – utterly overwhelming Lancelot’s desperate attempts fleeing altogether.

Razor winds lacerating through armored plates while those thick viscous molten compounds simply crushed downwards oppressively all at once.

“Kuhh… Aaaaaahhhh!!”

Pushed beyond any remaining thresholds, Lancelot bellowed through gritted teeth spewing forth tremendous demonic miasma aureoles like a demonic banshee shriek – those explosive energies blasting Doyun alongside the encroaching lava flows away simultaneously.

Landing steadily once more, Doyun snickered mockingly – his disheveled appearance disregarded any notions of Clarity of Still Water composure ages ago already.

“Using such underhanded trickery accumulated through esoteric rituals…?!”

Lancelot gripped that sword resolutely with both hands refocusing his mental faculties through sheer concentration alone. Despite his proper stances alongside clarity shattering completely already, Lancelot’s innate skill systems supplemented by demonic energies managed compensating accordingly in makeshift manners.

“I shall reveal the Buske Style’s consummate sublime mastery transcending mere Realms…!”

Woooong- An invisible spherical boundary expanded outwards from Lancelot’s epicenter rapidly enveloping that entire interim battlefield altogether.

Doyun lowered his blade obediently entering that domain while frowning slightly at detectable temperature drops assailing him dimly:

‘…Supremely vexing.’

Sensing unmistakable chills permeating those sword arts so quintessentially reminiscent of Vuyskr’s signature auras proved utterly repulsive beyond measure altogether.

“Interrogations matter not! Disappear alongside this entire Realm itself!!”

Lancelot’s blade bifurcated that established boundary altogether while inscribing impeccably precise sword trails descending vertically overhead against Doyun’s position decisively.

[Buske’s Style Swordsmanship – Frigid Void]

Yet Doyun simply lowered his eyelids momentarily before:

“Mere trifling conceits…”

Snapping them open revealing aureate irises flashing brilliantly outwards:

“You dare lecture me regarding Realms themselves…?!”

“…!”

That overhead descending blade aiming for Doyun’s cranium abruptly halted as if striking some invisible obstruction just above his forehead altogether.

“Impossible…! This is…?!”

Technique slashing through any hostile domains completely unchallenged – Frigid Void represented the consummate Buske Style’s pinnacle execution ideally.

Yet Doyun had manifested paper-thin yet utterly impenetrable [Seventh Sense] barriers barely 1cm overhead – an infinitely perfect Territory negating Lancelot’s blade trajectories altogether before making any direct contact whatsoever.

Of course, Vuyskr the pinnacle grandmaster himself could effortlessly bisect such rudimentary Territories virtually without any considerations whatsoever in their duels together.

“Im… Impossible… How… This Territory…!”

Lancelot’s blade tip trembled precariously overhead with dismay permeating his entire essence at this sheer impossibility defying his beliefs altogether.

“Just what manner of existence are you…?”

Witnessing such sublime Buske mastery eclipsing even his wildest comprehensions, Lancelot finally doubted that perceived mystical student-master dynamic altogether.

Without any verbal answers forthcoming whatsoever, Doyun simply raised his own sword skywards once more with infuriatingly casual nonchalance.

Despite such a visibly sluggish motion altogether, Lancelot simply could not react defensively under any circumstances.

For Doyun manifested the archaic Buske “blunt force” technique emphasizing weight rather than speed – another quintessential classical precept.

Yet rather than dominate Lancelot’s Territory outright, Doyun refrained from any such flexing of metaphysical supremacy altogether.

Instead, he simply brought that descending blade straight down bisecting Lancelot’s established domain directly in kind – the same boundary construct displays Vuyskr had demonstrated repeatedly over their innumerable duels together:

Unleashing Buske’s Frigid Void offensive directly through the opponent’s own manifested Territory rather than assailing externally from one’s personal outer sphere altogether.

Watching his own spiritual boundaries cleave apart through sheer lethargic blade work alone, Lancelot could only gape speechlessly – no traces of Clarity remaining visible across his metaphysical existence whatsoever anymore.

Eventually, that perfectly executed vertical downwards slash unfolded without any interruptions arising:

Shurahk-

With resounding papercut sounds altogether, Lancelot’s shoulder armor plates sheared apart simultaneously.

“…!”

Before even registering his continued existential state at all, the sheer sub-zero chills lancing across those dismembered stumps from Doyun’s consecrated blade assailed Lancelot’s senses overwhelmingly regardless.

His arrogantly self-proclaimed mastery over the Buske Style’s quintessential mysteries had been refuted decisively in the most humiliatingly direct manner possible altogether.

No dignity or self-worth remained within Lancelot’s being whatsoever anymore. Only sheer visceral disgust alongside galling inadequacies fueling animalistic survival instincts gnawed within any longer:

“Hruaaaahhhhh-!!!”

He bellowed furiously spewing forth demonic miasma completely unfettered from any restraining shackles remaining whatsoever.

Doyun simply re-sheathed his blade altogether while distancing himself backwards magnanimously:

‘Indeed, it remains unwise finishing you just yet.’

For Doyun harbored so many burning inquiries accumulating across that entire century’s interim that required settling imminently with this rude brat directly next without fail.

“Raaaaaahhhh-!!”

Unlike the profound swordplay artistry pursued until this fateful junction altogether, Lancelot discarded any such pretenses activating his full demonic powers unreservedly – recalling the deathly authorities once commanded as the Death Knight prior to suffering decapitation by Enoch’s blade during their previous confrontations.

That desperate patchwork endeavoring fusing the Buske Style’s mysteries within his unnatural existence had been discarded altogether – embracing his raw Vanguard Commander capacities without holding anything back whatsoever against Doyun outright.

Of course, that primal demonic essence still represented every inch those formidable powers Enoch himself had clashed against countless times before – ultimately proving Lancelot’s undoing over and over again:

‘The fifth occasion executing this damnable cur once more, was it not?’