After eliminating the troubleso illusion, Alan quickly turned around to check on his companions.
Blanche and the white-haired mage had long since fought their way off into the distance, their figures barely visible anymore.
Francis, anwhile, was completely engulfed by the black snake's poisonous mist.
As of now, the only one still visible on the battlefield was Fort.
His entire body had fully transford into sharp tal elent form, and he was locked in a fierce, white-hot battle against the burly axe-wielding man.
"Damn it, why are you so tough?!"
The burly man cursed as he fought, already losing ground rapidly.
His aura had weakened significantly.
He simply had no choice.
Every ti Fort struck him, even if the blow wasn't fatal, it still left a noticeable wound.
anwhile, no matter how hard he attacked Fort, the most he could achieve was leaving a faint, shallow white mark on Fort's tallic skin—not even close to injuring him.
As the fight dragged on, the burly man felt like he wasn't battling a mage at all—
It was more like smashing himself repeatedly against an anvil made of indestructible steel!
"What's wrong? Getting tired already?"
Fort grinned, a rare flicker of emotion breaking through his usual stoicism.
It seed that only in battle did his feelings ever show so clearly.
Alan didn't rush to intervene and disrupt Fort's rhythm.
He rely stood quietly to the side, carefully observing the fight.
After a few monts, Alan reached a conclusion:
The burly man was dood to lose.
It wasn't just Fort's sharp tal body granting him a natural advantage.
More importantly, it was a fundantal imbalance of psychological pressure between the two.
The principle was similar to mana Overpressure, but it wasn't exactly the sa.
It was more like a psychological contest.
No matter how the burly man attacked, Fort's offensive montum only slightly slowed but never stopped.
On the other hand, Fort's blows—though seemingly minor—landed with precise consistency every ti.
One was an endless, hopeless struggle.
The other, though progressing slowly, always showed visible results.
Because of this growing disparity, Alan was certain:
The burly man would inevitably collapse.
He couldn't see any hope of victory—only a slow, suffocating defeat.
The burly man realized it too.
At the critical mont when Fort's fist was about to connect again, he suddenly played dirty.
He abruptly crouched down, dodging Fort's punch, and scooped up a handful of dirt from the ground, flinging it straight at Fort's face.
Although Fort had elentalized most of his body, his eyes still remained flesh and blood.
He needed to see, after all.
The burly man had keenly spotted this weakness—
And now he used a shaless trick to blind Fort's vision.
Sure enough, Fort got hit squarely.
He imdiately covered his eyes, grimacing in pain.
"Let's see how you dodge this, you little golden freak!"
The burly man regained his arrogance, picking up two sharp stones from the ground and hurling them at Fort's eyes with blistering speed.
So fast that the human eye could hardly track it.
"Watch out!"
Alan spotted the attack instantly.
He shouted a warning while dashing forward, trying to intercept the projectiles.
However, Fort suddenly roared, "Stay back!"
"Don't... interfere with my fight!"
Bang!
As soon as the words left his mouth, the two sharp stones smashed into Fort's face.
The force knocked him backward, his body starting to tip over.
The burly man seized the opportunity.
He rushed forward, aiming to thrust his fingers into Fort's now defenseless eyes—
A move that would surely be fatal.
Victory was finally within reach!
There was no way he would let it slip through his fingers.
But just as he closed the distance—
Fort's right foot suddenly stomped heavily on the ground, stabilizing his tilting body.
Then, like a tightly coiled spring, Fort rebounded with explosive force, slamming his shoulder brutally into the burly man's abdon.
The impact was devastating.
The burly man coughed up a huge mouthful of blood as his entire body was launched into the air.
Fort, squinting through his still-blurred vision, imdiately gave chase.
Monts later, the burly man crashed to the ground, barely clinging to life.
He had no sharp tal body to protect him.
Every blow Fort delivered had landed fully on his flesh and bone.
Especially that last full-powered strike—
It had nearly turned his internal organs to mush.
"You little bastard... just you wait!"
The burly man trembled as he tried to crawl away.
But Fort appeared behind him like a phantom, his voice cold and indifferent.
"Wait for what?"
Without another word, Fort kicked him brutally to the ground.
Then he stepped forward, raised his arm high, and brought his elbow crashing down.
CRACK!
With a sickening sound, the burly man's skull shattered like an overripe lon.
White and red matter splattered everywhere—a grisly, horrifying sight.
Fort, however, showed no fear or hesitation.
After surviving the brutal struggles of Mist Woods, he had long since beco numb to such savagery.
Especially when the one dying was a scumbag who had co looking for trouble.
With the battle over, Fort slowly stood up and walked over to the fallen giant axe.
He gripped the massive weapon and pulled it free from the ground.
Alan approached as well, giving the axe a careful inspection.
After a mont, he said thoughtfully,
"This thing isn't just ordinary tal.
I can sense faint mana fluctuations inside.
It's a magic item, like a staff."
Fort looked at him, puzzled.
"And what does that an?"
Alan chuckled and clapped Fort on the shoulder.
"It ans this thing is worth a lot of money.
At the current market price, I'd say... easily four to five million at least."
At those words, Fort's normally stoic face transford.
From initial calm, to disbelief, to unrestrained joy.
It was a rare sight.
Usually, back at the academy, Fort almost never showed such vivid emotions.
He slapped Alan's shoulder in return, eyes shining with excitent.
"If bounty hunters co looking for trouble again, make sure you call along!"
"Of course, definitely,"
Alan replied, laughing just as happily.
Because right then, he too realized—
They had stumbled onto a brand new, extrely lucrative path to wealth.
Hunting bounty hunters!
"Help! Sobody help !"
Just as Alan was basking in dreams of future riches—
He suddenly heard Francis's pitiful cries for help from behind him.
Alan's brows furrowed instantly.
He snapped back to reality, ready to rush over and assist.
But Fort reached out and grabbed his arm.
"Don't. He can handle it," Fort said calmly.
From within the poisonous mist, Francis shouted angrily,
"Fort! Are you even human? My own brother's coming to save , and you're stopping him?!"
Fort replied indifferently,
"Headmaster said: if you lose a fight, your running laps get doubled."
"What?!"
Francis let out a blood-curdling scream.
And then—
With a burst of frantic energy, he split the thick, dark purple mist cleanly in two.
He charged out of the poisonous cloud at full speed, gasping for air.
His eyes wide with panic, Francis grabbed Fort and demanded,
"You're not lying to , right?!
You know I have a pure heart—I'm easy to deceive!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)