by Yuri Ajin
As soon as her feet touched the ground, she disappeared. Her speed, along with the rest of her stats had increased two and a half times.
With a lightning-fast dash, Mikasa caught up with her prey. Shacks was tossed into a tree, his arms broken. Mikasa approached and then grabbed him by the neck. The only thing he managed to do was cover himself with Mist Armor.
“How long do you think your defense will last, ha?!” Mikasa asked, continuing to squeeze his neck. The Armor cracked, shattering under her strength. “You’re pathetic. I expected a fight with a skilled assassin, but it turns out that I was mistaken. You’re worthless. You’re a frightened mutt whose bark is worse than his bite! You dishonor us, harbingers of death. When you die, I advise you hide in the deepest and darkest hole in the Abode, otherwise, if I ever see you—”
Before she could finish her speech, the world spun before her eyes and her ears rang. Weakness overcame her, but she didn’t let go of her prey.
“Impo... si... b...” she wheezed, choking on her blood and swelling tongue.
The Mind Clouding Poison Technique, which Shacks secretly injected into her body when he hit her chest, finally began to work.
But it still couldn’t turn the tide of battle. Although Mikasa was an initial-level Exorcist for the duration of the Games, there was still a significant difference between Shacks and her. He was on the Seer Stage prior to this, while she had already mastered the Force of Fusion for both of her elements.
Particles of Dagger Forces penetrated her flesh, destroying Shacks’ technique. Her condition was rapidly returning to normal. The dullness of her senses and ringing in the ears hadn’t yet disappeared, but her vision was less blurry.
“You pitiful worm!” she hissed through a smile. “It’s time to finish this!”
A technique had already begun to form in the hand that was gripping Shacks’ neck, but it was suddenly interrupted. Mikasa shuddered. Something flashed before her eyes, interfering with her vision. A split second later, her mind turned blank and her body fell to the ground. Even a powerful cultivator like her couldn’t live long with an arrow in their head.
“Idiot... What makes you think that I’m an assassin?” Shacks said, exiting the shadows.
Meanwhile, the copy that Mikasa was holding by the neck approached the original. Turning into fog, it merged with Shacks, whose strength increased by fifteen percent, returning to normal. Perfect Separation, a unique technique of the Bright Moon Clan, had ended.
“A man can’t even collect treasures in peace in this place...” he said with a sigh and shook his head. “Who would’ve guessed that Ailenx would die even while under the supervision of my copy?”
Chapter 37
DUELS OF THE STRONGEST
It was the eighth day of the Games.
An’na made her way to the ancient city in the center of the valley, leaving a trail of corpses behind her. All those who dared to stand in her way were almost instantly easily defeated. Ultimately, she made her way to the north gate of the city, which was one of the points protected by the strongest Guardians.
To An’na’s surprise, it wasn’t one of the first hundred who met her there, but a familiar face from the Heavenly Floor.
“Tyria?” An’na asked, surprised to see the person who used to be fourth on the List of Ten Thousand. Tyria was twenty years older, and her stay at the Abode was coming to an end since she was almost ready to reach the Elementalist Stage. “Why are you here? You can’t be a Guardian.”
“Where’s Aldus?” she asked roughly, ignoring An’na’s question.
“Who are you talking about?” An’na asked back, narrowing her eyes, and clenched her fist. She was ready to form a technique if Tyria decided to turn their encounter into a skirmish.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know, you stupid half-breed!” Tyria retorted with a snarl. “You were seen with the human who killed our brothers. You’ve gone to the desert with him. So did Aldus. Where is he?!” she shouted.
An’na frowned at first, appalled by Tyria’s lack of manners, but then she snickered and smiled haughtily.
“The same place as the rest of those pathetic weaklings,” she said mockingly, “rotting in the sand.”
“I knew it!” Tyria growled softly and then grinned wryly. “You’ll die. So will the rest of your friends. That isn’t a threat but a promise. When you return to the first floor, weakened after your death in the Games, my brothers and sisters will take care of you.”
“I’d like to see them try!”
Tyria merged with a Senior Lightning Spirit, activated Partial Transformation, and then threw herself at An’na who dodged instead of trying to block. Her opponent relied on the Path of Body, for which, fortunately, there were no Spirits.
In retaliation, An’na merged with two Spirits: those of Sword and Fire, who sharply increased the strength of the already activated movements, defense, and body enhancement techniques.
Two powerful auras flashed.
Swinging her blade, An’na released a phoenix made of scarlet flame at her opponent. Tyria instantly responded. Several lightning bolts erupted from her claws.
Both girls had a fairly deep understanding of the Force of Fusion of their elements, as well as an almost equal amount of ki: there were only ten units of a difference between them since Tyria’s foundation was a bit lower. As for the quality of their attacks, it was approximately the same for both cultivators, since both techniques were divided into five volumes that they had perfectly mastered.
The two attacks were supposed to balance and cancel each other out, but Tyria’s technique passed through the phoenix and headed toward An’na. This happened because she used not only Lightning but also the Yang concept, thus strengthening her attack.
Caught by surprise, An’na only managed to put up her defense. A wall of blinding plasma appeared in front of her, absorbing the blow, and disappeared.
Tyria approached her the moment the wall fell, appearing to her left. Activating her technique, she literally shot her fist at An’na’s head. And although the latter managed to deflect Tyria’s lightning-imbued hand, the shock wave still got to her.
An’na was thrown back like a rag doll. Tyria jumped after her, strengthening her legs with a Path of the Body technique. The ground shook and cracked as Tyria landed a dozen feet away, leaving a small crater behind her. An’na moved out of the way, unharmed, having managed to avoid the attack and even counter it.
A small wound appeared on Tyria’s shoulder, because of which she only bared her teeth.
An’na, who distanced herself from her opponent, was focused, pondering about how to win. The quality of their techniques was the same. As was the strength of their Forces. Tyria could defend herself from her Will of the Sword both with her Cover and Master’s Will, which was more powerful.
Also, Tyria had much more combat experience due to her age. And even though An’na had been training like crazy for the past month, constantly sparring with Malvur, Shacks, Ranmaru, and other strong students, she still couldn’t close such a gap so quickly.
She lacked first-hand experience but she had her swordsmanship. She had her weapon.
Both she and her blade were engulfed with crimson flame.
Two cultivators rushed at each other.
***
Having thrust her blade into the ground and leaned on it, An’na let out a shaky breath. Her face was covered in blood, her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were torn. Her whole body ached. The laceration on the side burned. Her legs were giving in. Her left arm was hanging limply. Her head was buzzing...
The battle demanded all her strength. She had never worked so hard to win before. Not even when she was up against Kai at the Fist Fight.
Hard as the battle was, it forced her to push her limits further and surpass herself. The proof of her hard work could be seen in the traces of the battle that had died down at the gates.
The forest around the city was reduced to ashes, and the ground was streaked
with long furrows and deep craters, in which both An’na and Tyria were now lying. The dorgan’s head was nowhere to be found.
Gritting her teeth and trying not to fall, An’na bent over her opponent’s corpse and took the golden Ring that actually turned out to be a cluster of almost a hundred Rings that Tyria had managed to obtain during the Games.
Having combined them with hers, An’na peered inside the pocket dimension with her aura. Like everyone else, she couldn’t open these Rings until the end of the Games, but this didn’t prevent her from viewing their contents. In addition, participants were allowed to store the obtained treasures in them for safekeeping.
As for Tyria’s personal Ring and her weapons — brass knuckles — they were teleported to the Abode with their owner. No one wanted to lose valuable artifacts in this massacre so the rules made it possible to keep your property even in the event of death.
An’na smiled slightly as she checked the Rings. She assumed that the gates leading to the city were one of the key points. And since instead of a Guardian there was a student, then either Tyria had defeated them, or the Guardian had left this place even before her arrival. Regardless of what had happened, someone had to have gotten the treasure stored behind the previously closed gate. An’na found a single-use, low-quality Royal-rank defense artifact inside the Rings. And even though she couldn’t use it due to the rules, she was still glad to have found it.
Nodding to herself, An’na began to limp toward the city. She had to use her sword as a cane just to stay on her feet. She had managed to overcome most of the distance when she was hit with several Gold-rank techniques and thrown aside.
A dozen new wounds appeared on her body. And although it wasn’t her real body, the sensations were transmitted to her mind vividly.
She vomited blood and groaned, gripping her face. The collision with the ground had broken her nose and jaw and even knocked out a couple of teeth. Cursing and spitting, she tried to get up. The world was spinning in front of her eyes, and she felt sick. Staggering, she still got to her feet.
Trying to put her thoughts in order, An’na weaved the simplest version of a defense barrier. Hundreds of illusionary blades appeared around her in several layers. The space between the swords was filled with a translucent scarlet glow.
A moment later, the second wave of attacks hit her. However, this time, it was repelled by the floating blades. Still, despite An’na’s defense, one of the enemy techniques had managed to slip inside her barrier before it was fully formed.
A fiery spear stabbed her back, enticing a shrill cry. After taking two awkward steps forward, An’na began to fall.
About thirty wolf-like dorgans were heading toward An’na with the intention of finishing her off. Realizing that they wouldn’t be able to break through a Royal-rank barrier with long-range techniques, they decided to get closer.
Unable to hold on anymore, An’na collapsed to the ground.
If she had had at least five percent of her ki, she could’ve easily dealt with the dorgans. Cultivators who hadn’t even mastered the Force of Fusion had no chance against her. However, luck wasn’t on her side today. She had suffered too much damage. Her mind was clouded and the remnants of her ki were enough for a short use of just one weak technique.
An’na was aware that the body that was slowly giving in wasn’t hers so she wasn’t afraid of dying, uncomfortable as it was. But there was something that made her fear that her soul might suffer a similar fate.
She was a team leader. Her defeat meant the defeat of her entire team. If she died now, then Kai, Shacks, Malvur, and Ailenx would be expelled together with her. That was what she was afraid of — of letting the others down. After all, no one had forced her to take this role. It was she who had chosen it.
Gritting her teeth so hard that they began to crack and gathering all her will into a fist, An’na forced her consciousness back into reality. Overcoming the pain that she could no longer suppress in such a state, she took a sharp step forward, stopping her fall before she hit the ground.
“Agggghhhhh!” she shouted, pulling out the flaming spear from her back. Her hand was blackening and cracking. The acrid smell of burnt flesh hung in the air.
Throwing the spear aside, she began to slowly turn around.
I can’t... I can’t lose!
The dorgans were rapidly approaching. The barrier had already begun to crack due to the uneven supply of ki. An’na stopped paying attention to defense, driven by a desire for victory that made her unaware of her actions. Reason receded to the back of her mind, giving way to instinct.
There is no sword... I am the sword.
Her eyes were closed. The charred hand reached for the belt. The body, as if forgetting about the pain and bleeding, assumed a fighting stance. There was almost no ki left in it. Physical strength either. But the thirst for victory remained. Just like the will.
With her last bit of strength, she formed the shape of a transparent sword on her belt. Forces, energy, and the Will of the Sword merged into one.
The dorgans sensed danger emanating from her. Their animal blood howled with fear, making them stop abruptly and join forces to form one huge and extremely strong barrier.
But An’na didn’t need to break through their defense. She just needed to reach them. There were no barriers for her will. There was only a target.
Opening her eyes, she stared at the Dorgans. At that moment, each of them could swear that their soul felt the touch of a sharp blade.
An’na was so focused that time seemed to stand still for her. An image of her frozen opponents was imprinted in her mind. She closed her eyes. She no longer needed to see reality. She was going to draw it herself.
No one saw her move. Not a scratch appeared on the barrier or the dorgans’ bodies. And then all of them fell to the ground, their bodies cut in two.
Twenty-eight cultivators died in an instant.
A message appeared in front of An’na.
You have created [Lost Sweep Technique].
Rank: Royal
Quality: Peak
***
One day later
Powerful tremors emanated from the ground. Deep in the catacombs beneath the old city, a fight was taking place.
In the middle of a ruined corridor stood a cultivator in stone armor, made from his hardened flesh. Like a towering monument, Malvur gazed at the approaching tiger covered in flames. Some would mistakenly think that he was fighting a monster of the Aive Hidden Valley, but he was up against a dorgan who had undergone the Complete Transformation. Yukie had been entrusted with the task of guarding the underground entrance to the city.
The rushing tigress raised her paw but the giant didn’t dodge. Thrusting his hand forward, he created a powerful gravitational pull, which began to attract Yukie toward the tip of his glaive with even greater speed.
Surprised and alarmed, Yukie used her flames to deflect the weapon. Except she couldn’t imagine that the glaive would be so heavy that she could only move it a few inches. This was enough to avoid a direct attack, but the blade still grazed her. Confident as she was in her barrier, she was surprised to see Malvur’s glaive cut her skin so easily, bypassing her Energy Shield, defense technique, and the natural strength of her body.
Finally approaching her opponent, Yukie hit him with her paw. Such a blow usually easily killed most Exorcists, but Malvur easily deflected her attack with his hand without suffering any damage. Only a couple of scratches appeared on his armor.
Yukie was amazed by his strength but she couldn’t marvel at it for too long as Malvur glaive was moving toward her abdomen.
Three flaming tails shot forward, curling around the giant’s arm, making him twitch. Yukie jumped and then leaned forward, trying to bite off his head. Her mouth was already close to Malvur when his huge fist collided with her lower jaw, forcing her mouth shut.
Yukie was thrown back a few feet but she remained conscious. Malvur approached her slowly, making the corridor shake wit
h each step, and the stone tiles under his feet shatter under the combined weight of his weapon and armor.
The fight continued.
No matter how hard she tried, Yukie couldn’t hurt Malvur or even push him away. He was like a statue come to life, slow but unyielding. His attacks were simple but extremely effective and showed just how honed his glaive skills were. Within minutes, he overpowered Yukie, cutting off her left leg and forcing her to retreat.
Damn monster! she thought, jumping away from another swing.
She no longer wanted to fight. Malvur seemed to be mocking her, making her feel helpless and powerless. All she wanted was to get away and lick her wounds in peace.
Opening her mouth, she formed several small spheres of energy and released a powerful stream of flame at the ceiling.
There was an explosion. A section of the corridor began to collapse, burying the giant under the debris.
Good. That’ll slow him down... I doubt that something like this could kill him.
Reattaching her severed limb and returning to her human form, she climbed back to the surface. She didn’t give a damn about her task anymore. She could no longer defend her post.
Frightened, tired, and angry, she ran through the city in search of a secluded place to recover when she felt a familiar aura.
Two?! A grin appeared on her face. Finally! I’ll finish him off and bring his head to Lightus! Or at least beat him up a little...
Activating Complete Transformation, she turned to the north. It took her only a few seconds to get to the right place. With a jump, she leaped over the ruins of a small house and found herself two dozen feet from Nomen. Wasting no time, she pounced at him.
“What the—?! Agh!!!”
Her fangs sank into his defenseless flesh. With a mad cackle, she began to tear his body apart. However, she didn’t touch the head. No. She’d bring that back as a trophy.
Suddenly, Nomen’s blood and remains disappeared and his aura appeared a few feet from her.
