@lune_noire:
Two swordsmen, plated in the armor of the strongest metals; Two extremely skilled men with blades sharper enough to part the sun. Standing in the mist of the entity know as mother earth, the battle was looked upon by gods. As fast as they could be, the swords men fought in their own realm of thought. They were separate from the world around them. Only seeing the blade of the one across from them, they were in a zone that most men have never and will never come close to reaching. Slicing and dicing at one another, the toughest man wouldn't have dared step between them. A spectator could only hear the rhythmic clinks of their blade, sending waves of wind that was strong enough to create twisters; The scuff of their feet rubbing the blessed earth that they touched, hard enough to create earthquakes.
Rumors have it, the two men's feet never fully landed on the ground; only for a quick second did the tips of their feet contact the earth before leaving for the heavens again. They sword strikes, so vicious and merciless, trimmed the very edge of existence. Mountains trembled, rivers became parched, the desert sweated; animals stayed clean, man crumbled, and gods flinched at the pure energy that came from those two men. The sun and the moon ran from the sight of the battle, in fear that they'll be the next ones to feel the wrath. Some say their eyes bleed from the sight. Others say it never happened at all. A simple dream of magnificence, filling the blank minds of the world; bless man with the vision of greatness.
d^_^b
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