Genshin Impact: The Admiral of Fontaine

(Chapter 125 Fight Fire With Fire)

Tempest stood in the middle of a vast, flat expanse far from any settlements or wildlife, a perfect battleground for an uninterrupted spar. The air was calm, with a faint breeze brushing against the landscape. Behind him stood a handful of his most loyal followers, each watching him with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"A thousand Mora says Chief wins!"

Hatsume called out, her excitement evident as she adjusted the tripod of a kamera she had dragged along.

"Augh… why am I doing this?"

Faruzan muttered, clearly exasperated as she helped Hatsume set up the device. Her nimble fingers worked on the adjustments, though her expression conveyed her reluctance.

"What are those two up to?"

Tempest asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and mild irritation as his sharp eyes flicked toward them.

"Hatsume said it's good for propaganda, Your Grace."

Rohan replied, standing stoically with his arms crossed, his voice betraying no emotion.

Tempest sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Mm, well, it's going to be rather embarrassing if I lose and this ends up in her archives."

He muttered, though his tone carried a faint hint of amusement.

Constantine, standing nearby with his usual air of calm authority, smirked faintly.

"A word of advice, Your Grace."

He said, his voice tinged with a mix of humor and seriousness.

"Try not to get lost in her movements. She's fast, precise, and relentless."

"Mm."

Tempest hummed, his gaze sharpening as he rolled his shoulders to loosen up.

"This will either be a battle of equals… or it'll be the exact opposite. Let's see how it plays out."

Falric, ever vigilant, had his spyglass trained on the horizon.

"She's approaching, Your Grace."

He announced, his tone steady but laced with a hint of excitement.

"Fast, using her steel horse again."

In the distance, a trail of dust rose behind Mavuika's motorcycle as she sped toward the battlefield. The hum of the engine grew louder with each passing second, a testament to her determination and her signature flair for dramatic entrances.

"Win or lose…"

Tempest muttered under his breath as he stood tall, the weight of the moment settling on his shoulders. His fingers flexed at his sides, and his crimson eyes glinted with resolve.

This wasn't just about the sparring match, it was about pride, strength, and perhaps even something unspoken that neither he nor Mavuika would admit aloud. The horizon shimmered with the intensity of the moment, and Tempest's loyal followers looked on with bated breath, eager to witness the clash of two formidable warriors.

Mavuika dismounted her motorcycle with effortless grace, the sunlight catching her sleek sunglasses as she removed them, revealing sharp, determined eyes. She shook her hair free with a casual flick, the loose strands dancing in the breeze. Her gaze locked onto Tempest's, a confident smile playing on her lips as she strode toward him.

"Ready to dance, Tempest?"

She called out, her voice teasing yet resolute.

"Quite."

Tempest replied coolly, his tone carrying a subtle undercurrent of anticipation.

As Mavuika closed the distance between them, her hand curled into a fist. She extended it toward him, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"No hard feelings, alright?"

She said, her tone light but firm.

Tempest smirked faintly, his hand meeting hers in a solid fist bump.

"I can't promise that."

He replied evenly, the corner of his mouth twitching as though holding back a grin.

Mavuika chuckled softly at his response, stepping back and giving him a playful shrug.

"Fair enough."

She said, her smile widening.

The two warriors turned away from each other, walking toward opposite ends of the sparring grounds. Each step felt deliberate, heavy with the weight of the coming clash. The tension in the air was palpable, charged with unspoken respect and rivalry.

"Ah..."

Mavuika's voice suddenly broke the quiet as she reached for her back, her expression shifting to mild annoyance. She patted the space where her weapon usually rested, only to realize she had left it behind.

"Constantine!"

She called out.

"Can you lend me one of your swords? Just for this match?"

Constantine, who had been watching with a faint smirk, stepped forward. "Only because it's you, Mavuika."

He said, unsheathing one of his scimitars with practiced ease. He gave it a quick twirl before tossing it toward Mavuika.

The blade arced through the air with a metallic shimmer, but Mavuika caught it effortlessly, the motion as smooth as a dancer's step. She examined the weapon briefly, testing its balance, and nodded in approval. "Not bad."

She said with a grin, giving Constantine a casual nod with the blade before turning back toward Tempest.

Tempest, standing motionless at his position, raised an eyebrow as he watched the exchange.

"You came unarmed?"

He remarked, his tone halfway between amusement and disbelief.

Mavuika shrugged, rolling her shoulders as she assumed a ready stance.

"Didn't think I'd need it."

She replied with a wink.

"But it seems only fair to give you a fighting chance."

Tempest chuckled lowly, his hand tightening on the hilt of his own blade.

"You'll regret saying that."

He said, his voice calm but laced with challenge.

The two now faced each other, poised and ready, the distance between them crackling with energy. Around them, the spectators grew silent, their eyes glued to the impending clash.

The battle was about to begin.

Tempest exhaled slowly, centering himself. The air around him shimmered as golden flames erupted along the blade of his sword, illuminating the battlefield. The fire crackled and roared, its light reflecting in his determined eyes.

Without hesitation, he lunged forward, closing the gap between them in a flash. His blade arced through the air with precision, aiming directly at Mavuika's midsection. Yet, she remained still, her posture relaxed, her stance effortless. At the last possible moment, she raised the borrowed scimitar, deflecting Tempest's strike with a sharp clang of steel. The impact sent sparks flying, but Mavuika barely flinched.

"Too direct."

She said casually, her voice carrying no strain despite the clash of their blades.

"You're fast, Tempest, but speed without unpredictability is a wasted effort."

Tempest gritted his teeth, stepping back to reassess. The golden flames around his sword surged as he adjusted his grip. With a burst of energy, he launched a series of rapid, fluid strikes, each one designed to probe her defenses. High, low, left, right, his blade became a blur of motion.

But Mavuika was unshakable. She parried each attack with precision, her movements flowing like water. Every time Tempest's sword came close, her scimitar was already there, deflecting with a flick of her wrist or a subtle shift in her stance. She sidestepped his next swing entirely, her expression calm, her eyes sharp and calculating.

"You hesitate just before you commit."

She remarked, spinning gracefully to dodge a downward slash.

"I can read your intent before you even move. Stop thinking so much, trust your instincts."

Tempest growled in frustration, pivoting to unleash a sweeping strike aimed at catching her off guard. The golden flames around his blade flared, crackling with raw energy. Yet, Mavuika met the strike head-on, her scimitar intercepting his blade with a forceful clang. The ground beneath them trembled slightly from the impact, but she remained rooted, her stance unwavering.

"Better."

She said with a nod, her tone almost approving.

"But you're relying too much on power now. A real opponent won't give you the chance to wind up like that."

Tempest withdrew, breathing heavily but refusing to back down. He shifted his stance, lowering his center of gravity. Golden flames spiraled upward as he focused his energy, preparing for a feint. He dashed forward again, his blade moving unpredictably this time, fainting left, then right, then delivering a thrust aimed at her shoulder.

For a split second, it seemed he had caught her off guard. But just as his blade neared its target, Mavuika twisted her body with impossible fluidity, letting the attack pass harmlessly by her.

"Mmpf!"

Tempest groaned as Mavuika countered with a swift kick to his side, not hard enough to hurt but enough to stagger him slightly.

"Good attempt."

She said, spinning her scimitar idly in her hand. "

You're learning. But you still telegraph your attacks too much. Control your energy, Tempest, don't let it control you."

Tempest's eyes narrowed. His golden flames burned brighter, but this time, he didn't rush in. He stood his ground, studying her. His breathing steadied, and his grip on his sword relaxed.

"That's more like it."

Mavuika said, giving him a small, approving smile.

"The strongest swordsman isn't the one who swings hardest or fastest, it's the one who fights with purpose. Now show me what you've got."

Tempest smirked faintly, determination blazing in his gaze. This was no longer just a sparring match. It was a lesson, a challenge, and perhaps, a step closer to mastery.

Tempest's golden flames flickered with intensity, casting his silhouette in an ethereal light as he tightened his grip on the sword hilt. His expression was a mask of calm, cold as steel, betraying none of the frustration brewing beneath the surface. His strikes had been fast, precise, and relentless, yet Mavuika had deflected each one with an almost playful ease. Her smirk was infuriatingly steady, her confidence unwavering.

'She's toying with me.'

He thought.

'Staying defensive, holding back. This feels like Teacher's lessons all over again.'

His grip tightened further.

'But I didn't let him win, and I won't let her either.'

Tempest stepped forward, his blade moving in a dazzling arc. He struck at her shoulder, her ribs, her legs, each swing calculated to test her defenses. Mavuika flowed around his attacks like water, her scimitar meeting his blade at precise angles that deflected the force harmlessly to the side. She sidestepped a particularly heavy strike, her movements impossibly graceful, and tilted her head slightly, her tone almost teasing.

"Your form is near perfect, Tempest. But perfection without adaptability is just a brittle mask. Loosen up, let your instincts lead."

Tempest didn't respond. His focus was absolute, his expression an unreadable mask. He advanced again, his strikes faster, sharper, but still, she evaded them with almost insulting ease. Her scimitar whirled in her hand, deflecting a diagonal slash with a lazy grace that sent sparks skittering across the ground.

"You fight like a prodigy."

She continued, sidestepping his blade again and delivering a subtle push to his shoulder that threw off his balance.

"But prodigies often rely on technique alone. You need more than that to beat me."

Tempest recovered quickly, pivoting with an elegance that belied the raw strength behind his movements. His sword hummed through the air, the golden flames licking at its edge. He shifted his stance, adjusting his rhythm, his strikes becoming less predictable. High, low, a feint to the left followed by a rapid thrust, but still, Mavuika was untouchable. She moved in perfect harmony with his attacks, her scimitar a blur of silver that deflected his every attempt.

His golden flames flared brighter as he channeled more energy, his strikes gaining an edge of desperation. A downward slash aimed at her shoulder was met with her scimitar in a loud clash, the force of the impact sending a shockwave that rippled through the ground beneath them. Yet, Mavuika remained unshaken.

"Impressive power."

She said, her tone calm, almost amused.

"But you're letting emotion creep in. I can feel the frustration in your blade, Tempest. Control it, or it will control you."

Tempest froze for the briefest moment, her words striking a chord. Frustration? He hadn't realized it had seeped into his movements. He exhaled slowly, the flames around his sword dimming slightly as he reset his stance. His mind went blank, his emotions falling away as he focused purely on the rhythm of the battle. He moved forward again, his blade a blur, his attacks now deliberate and emotionless.

Mavuika's smile faltered for the first time as his strikes gained an edge of unpredictability. She blocked and parried, her movements still fluid but with a hint of added effort.

"Now you're starting to get it."

She said, sidestepping a thrust.

"But-"

She didn't finish. In a flash, Tempest shifted his grip, his blade twisting in an unexpected angle. His golden flames flared brilliantly as the flat of his blade nicked her cheek, leaving a faint line of seared skin.

Mavuika froze, touching her cheek with her hand. A moment of silence stretched between them. Then, a slow, delighted smile spread across her face.

"Well, well."

She said, her voice tinged with approval.

"It seems the prodigy has a bite after all."

Tempest stepped back, his blade still alight, his expression unchanging.

"I told you I wasn't here to play."

Mavuika smirked, wiping the faint trail of blood from her cheek with the back of her hand. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she twirled her scimitar, the blade catching the sunlight in a dazzling display.

"All that for a drop of blood... Impressive, Tempest. But now, it's my turn."

Before Tempest could react, Mavuika surged forward, her movements a blur of speed and precision. She closed the distance in the blink of an eye, her scimitar swinging with the force of a thunderstorm. Tempest barely had time to raise his blade to block, sparks exploding from the clash as her heavy strike sent a jarring vibration through his arms.

Her follow-up was relentless. Mavuika's strikes rained down with the ferocity of a tempest, each blow forcing Tempest further into a defensive stance. Her movements were impossibly fast, her footwork light and deliberate, her strikes heavy yet precise. She moved with the grace of a dancer but hit like a battering ram.

Tempest, however, remained eerily calm. His face betrayed no frustration, no fear, just cold focus. His blade moved with calculated precision, deflecting each of her strikes with millimeter-perfect accuracy. But even as he parried and blocked, the force behind her attacks was undeniable. His boots scraped against the rocky ground as he was forced to retreat, step by step.

'This isn't even her full power... Damn it!'

Tempest thought as he gritted his teeth behind his stoic exterior.

'I'm being pushed back, struggling just to defend. But if I falter for even a second, it's over.'

"Not bad."

Mavuika said mid-combat, her voice calm despite the chaos of their clashing blades.

"But you're too rigid, Tempest. You block like a fortress, unmoving, but a fortress can be toppled if it doesn't adapt."

Her blade arced toward his shoulder, and Tempest angled his sword just in time to deflect it. The force sent a tremor down his arm, but his grip held firm.

"You're good, damn good."

She continued, twirling her scimitar in a flash of silver before delivering a heavy downward slash that Tempest blocked overhead.

"But good isn't enough. Show me the fire that drives you!"

Her attacks became faster, and more aggressive, testing the limits of Tempest's endurance. The golden flames of his sword flickered under the strain of continuous parries, each clash lighting up the battlefield in bursts of fiery brilliance. Despite the overwhelming pressure, Tempest held his ground, his movements deliberate and devoid of wasted motion.

Finally, Mavuika spun, her scimitar whipping toward his side with enough speed to whistle through the air. Tempest stepped back, countering with a sharp thrust aimed at her center. She sidestepped with inhuman agility, but as she pivoted for a follow-up, Tempest anticipated her move. He twisted his blade upward in a calculated arc, intercepting her strike mid-swing.

Their blades connected in a deafening clash, the impact sending shockwaves through the air. The golden flames of Tempest's sword danced against the gleaming steel of Mavuika's scimitar, the energy between them crackling with raw intensity.

For a moment, the two warriors stood locked together, neither giving an inch. Mavuika's smirk widened, her eyes blazing with unspoken respect.

"Finally."

She said, her voice a low murmur.

"Now this feels like a fight."

Tempest's expression didn't waver, his voice cold and even.

"Don't get comfortable. I'm just getting started."

The tension between them was palpable, their weapons pressed together in an unyielding standoff. Around them, the wind picked up, swirling dust and embers into the air, as if the battlefield itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the next move.

The sun had reached its zenith, casting its harsh, unrelenting light across the battlefield. Noon had arrived, the moment when all things stood at their peak. Tempest's smirk twisted into something more confident, more calculating, as his body began to radiate a golden glow. His form pulsed with otherworldly energy, and the air around him crackled with anticipation.

Mavuika, her eyes narrowing, immediately recognized the shift. With a swift movement, she leaped backward, her instincts honed through countless battles telling her what was about to unfold. The ground beneath Tempest began to tremble as he fully embraced the power within him.

In a flash of light, Tempest emerged in his Paladin form, towering over Mavuika like a giant. His golden armor shimmered with the brilliance of the midday sun, the light reflecting off its surface in blinding waves. His eyes, once human, were now replaced with fiery orbs, flames burning bright within their sockets, as if the sun itself had found a new vessel to inhabit. He stood as tall as a Ruin Guard, his presence overwhelming, the ground shaking beneath his weight.

"Heh."

Mavuika chuckled softly, unfazed by the sheer magnitude of Tempest's transformation.

"I guess it's time to get serious..."

Her words echoed in the air before she slowly extended both hands, her expression shifting from playful to intense. The wind around her began to stir, and a wave of heat surged outward. Her long hair, which had been bright red moments ago, began to change, shifting from its natural color to brilliant, fiery gold, as if it too was responding to the power she was about to unleash. The temperature around them spiked, the very air vibrating with the energy she was drawing in.

With a deliberate motion, she threw her scimitar to the ground. Her stance was now completely different, less defensive, more primal, more raw. Her aura grew more dangerous with every passing second, the golden hue of her hair now a fiery halo around her face.

"Words are now meaningless. Talk with your fist."