"What's the matter, Shye Crowley of the Black Dawn? Is this all you've got?!" the enraged Cobra taunted, his cutlass stabbing toward his opponent.
anwhile, a subtle smile—one that seed to say everything was under control—remained on Shye's face, despite his disadvantageous position.
This only served to intensify the anger in the troubleso commander's heart.
How could Shye not smile?
After all, the familiar notifications he had rarely heard in the past few months rang in his mind once again, flooding him like the old days.
[Congratulations! You've earned 51,852 points!]
[Congratulations! You've earned 70,102 points!]
[Congratulations!...]
His immaculate defense allowed him to earn lots of points, so why should he change the situation?
Shye happily defended for now.
Inevitably, the audience's interest began to wane as they grew tired of his defensive tactics.
So even started to feel disappointed that Shye was losing.
Deep down, despite his current affiliation, Shye Crowley of the Black Dawn still held a special place in everyone's heart.
If it was just a battle of terrorists, the people at least wanted him to win.
Naturally, Shye realized this and knew he had to make his move if he wanted to earn more points, so he imdiately did the next mont, quickly reversing the situation after a masterful parry that left Cobra's cutlass hitting the ceramic ground.
Shye then sent his opponent skidding backward with a violent push kick.
'Ahh..crap, don't die on now!' he thought in a panic as he forgot to control his strength.
To his surprise, Cobra turned out more durable than he expected, as the bastard rely spat out a small amount of blood despite him not holding back.
Shye grew more confident.
If his opponent could take hits like this, then he would be able to make a few flashy combos that would excite the crowd.
"You want to see what I got, correct? Then I'll show you." he shot back, disappearing the next mont.
Shye reappeared behind Cobra as though a phantom brandishing one greatsword in an attempt to cut the latter's neck.
However, this was rely a prerequisite to his onslaught.
Cobra dodged the blow as expected by ducking, which opened up his face to a knee strike.
To Shye's disbelief, the opposing commander read his moves and blocked his knee with palms stacked on top of each other.
"Not bad." He praised.
Still, his strength sent Cobra shooting backward.
Shye imdiately gave chase like a hungry wolf.
Still mid-air, the troublemaker had limited options to dodge and could only slash his cutlass to defend against the incoming half-moon slashes.
Though he managed to deflect the two sharp projectiles off-course, they turned out to be re distractions.
Before he could shift his focus back to his opponent, Shye was already in front of him again, slashing at his exposed chest.
Nonetheless, Cobra managed a clumsy block that sent him shooting toward the ground.
The ceramic floor shattered as the six-foot-four-inch man with a muscular fra crashed violently, sending shards flying and mildly wounding a few unprepared elites.
Cobra spat out a small volu of blood.
His body ached all over, yet, he was forced to make his move, as lethal danger lood from above.
With a forced backward roll, he narrowly evaded the teor-like stabbing attack, which left a small crater on the ground upon impact.
Cobra would've normally broken into a cold sweat after barely escaping such a horrifying attack.
However, he didn't even have the ti to, as another knee strike was already on its way to his face.
There was only so much a re human could do.
This ti, he was struck cleanly, a comical muffled noise escaping his mouth and deford nose.
It was an intense, fast-paced series of exchanges that left the viewers' hearts racing in excitent.
Shye could've finished Cobra right then and there.
Unfortunately, he still needed seven hundred thousand more points.
He montarily gave his opponent ti to recover, kneeling on one knee and breathing heavily, feigning exhaustion.
Shye made it appear as though he had used a temporary physical attribute enhancent skill to overwhelm Cobra, and that he would be briefly exhausted once it wore off.
The Cobra elites, on the other hand, suddenly shouted sothing like,
"Commander Cobra, you can do it! Your opponent is just as exhausted as you!"
Which, in turn, energized the dazed troublemaker, giving him enough strength and ntal fortitude to stand up.
Sure enough, after seeing Shye kneeling on one knee, he laughed crazily—a mixture of saliva, blood, and tooth shards flying everywhere.
"HAHAHAHAHA! I knew it! You were just acting! How could anyone suffer no damage after my ferocious assault, Cobra's assault?!" the commander taunted, practically screaming as he finally vented his frustrations.
A subtle mocking smile that Cobra didn't notice erged on Shye's face at the amusing words.
Based on his experience, a final clash would always yield over a million points in earnings, especially now that about five minutes had passed since he began his broadcast.
Millions from around the world were undoubtedly tuned in by now.
"Struggling" to stand up, Shye "forced" a confident smile on his face, retorting sharply: "Heh, my condition is far better than you, at least."
He then followed up with a proposal.
"I'll give you a chance, clown. How about we end this with a single clash? I could've finished you just now, but I decided to let you go for the crowd's enjoynt."
Shye was rely speaking the truth.
However, with his impeccable delivery, it sounded more like he was simply acting tough.
"Heh, you still dare act tough? What a pretentious clown. You're barely holding on yourself, yet you act like you're superior. Now that's delusion!" Cobra sneered.
"Hoh, you still have the gall to talk back even though you haven't landed a single hit after your fancy yet powerless strike? Aren't you the clown?" Shye shot back, readying his greatswords for a final strike.
This ti, Cobra had no reply.
He had indeed failed to land a single hit since then.
In contrast, he had been slapped, kicked, and kneed in the face.
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