Chapter 132: Kill Streak
CH132 Kill Streak
***
The air was thick with anticipation as the duelists took their positions in the arena.
Six combatants stood on one side.
Alex stood alone on the other.
The group of six arranged themselves into a straightforward formation.
Viscount Lars, the mage, positioned himself at the extre rear—almost thirty tres behind his allies and roughly eighty tres from Alex.
At the front of their formation stood the armoured knight, clearly taking the role of tank. Behind him was the berserker—a likely sub-tank and heavy damage dealer.
The rogue lingered behind the berserker, her placent flexible, suggesting a mobile support or flanking role.
Bringing up the rear flanks were the two swordsn.
The swordsn were the weakest of the group—only at early Interdiate Rank—which was why they had been relegated to the back of the close-ranged formation.
At so point, people had conveniently forgotten that Alex was also an early Interdiate Rank. The heirs certainly hadn’t, but still they wanted to ensure he never got close to their weakest link.
Earl Drake Fury had made both sides wait to fully take their positions in the arena before the duel began. Afterward, he said nothing—choosing not to imdiately start the battle, instead letting the tension hang in the air.
The arena had fallen completely silent.
The atmosphere was thick—so charged it felt like it might ignite.
The eyes of the crowd were locked onto the stage, no one daring to blink. They didn’t want to miss even a second.
Who would win?
The heirs of the Family Council, with their advantage in numbers and power?
Or the lone, enigmatic heir of Earl Drake—composed, defiant, unyielding even now?
After letting the tension build for a full three minutes, Earl Drake finally gave the signal.
HUUNNNN!!
A deep horn blast echoed through the coliseum.
The duel had begun.
’There’s no need to hold back or waste ti. I need to end this quickly—before the disadvantage sets in.’ Alex thought.
Ti seed to slow in his perception.
His entire being focused on a single goal—and only that goal.
Calm Madness.
The instant the horn rang, Alex moved.
He moved with pure, murderous conviction—a desire to end the duel in one decisive exchange.
[Body Strengthening Magic!]
Dragon Kumite!
Mana surged through his body in a unique, internal circulation, enhancing his physical paraters while priming his next strike.
He launched forward in a blur—like a bullet from a barrel.
His form vanished, leaving behind only a faint streak of lightening.
[Abyssal Conqueror’s Steps: Third Step – Wraith Crossing!]
Though he hadn’t fully mastered it, Alex could still activate the technique to close the distance instantly.
Thirty tres was the limit of his current mastery over the Abyssal Conqueror’s third step.
But that was enough.
He appeared behind the armoured knight without issue.
Both the knight and the berserker behind him were caught off-guard.
Still, the berserker reacted fast—stepping in to block Alex’s path and swinging his massive axe in a cleaving arc.
Alex didn’t slow for even a heartbeat.
He charged forward, seemingly prepared to et the berserker’s strike head-on.
But just as the axe was about to hit, Alex’s form shimred—turning ghostly and then vanishing completely from the berserker’s line of sight.
A heartbeat later, the berserker saw sothing in the corner of his eye—
Alex was already streaking past him.
[Abyssal Conqueror’s Step: First Step – Ghost Steps!]
Alex’s crimson-red, gold-accented Truth-Seeker eyes glead with an ominous sheen.
Beast Intimidation. Killing Intent.
The rogue—who had been ready to dash aside—froze in place.
A sudden drop in temperature, the crushing weight of intent, and an overwhelming sense of death gripped her mind and body like ice.
Mana surged into Alex’s left arm, activating sothing.
Before the rogue—the only female among the six and heir of one of the viscount lines—could react, Alex’s wristblade plunged into her chest.
[A.N: Ladies first. Even in combat, our boy Alex is a gentleman. *Smirk*]
"Oorr!!"
The berserker let out a battle cry as he lunged at Alex in response.
The Pangea Realm’s Brotherhood mber yanked his blade out of the rogue’s chest with a spinning motion that sent blood splattering—so of it striking the berserker in the face, and possibly, his eyes.
The montary lapse it caused was all Alex needed.
Using the montum from his spin, Alex stepped in, caught the berserker’s arm, and in a fluid movent, executed a reactive judo-style shoulder throw—hurling the berserker straight at the swordsn who had been rushing in to assist.
The berserker’s size, which normally gave him the advantage, worked against him this ti. His large fra smashed into both incoming swordsn, sending all three crashing into the ground.
Alex didn’t pause to admire his work.
The armoured knight had already reached him.
Twisting on his heel, Alex pushed off his toes and unleashed a compact punch of pure mana.
[Dragon Kumite: Blast Punch!]
The mana-projected fist slamd into the knight, blasting him backward.
Though the damage was minimal due to the knight’s heavy armour, the force bought Alex so precious distance.
It had served its purpose.
Turning swiftly, Alex sprinted toward the trio he’d just sent tumbling.
Before they could even fully rise, Alex reached them.
His wristblade, now charged with focused mana through the Beta Brace, swept in a blur—cutting a blue-hued arc through the air.
A clean semicircle passed across the necks of all three.
They froze.
A heartbeat later, blood began to pour down their throats.
Then—they collapsed.
"AHH!!"
The knight roared in rage, charging at Alex with his sword raised.
Even in his fury, the knight kept his tower shield up—his instincts still intact.
Alex evaded the strike.
But when he retaliated, the knight anticipated it—raising his shield just in ti to block the attack.
What followed was a fast, intense exchange.
Alex darted around the knight’s heavy swings while the knight weathered every strike behind the bulwark of his tower shield.
After Alex’s explosive four-kill sequence, many in the crowd believed the knight had finally succeeded in locking him down.
But the knight didn’t share that optimism.
Sothing was off.
Alex hadn’t repeated the powerful mana punch he’d used earlier, and the knight didn’t believe it was because he couldn’t.
No. It felt more like... he was waiting.
Then, as if to confirm that suspicion, he heard a quiet, smiling voice from within Alex’s hood.
"Oh, he’s finally done?"
[Dragon Kumite: Blast Punch!]
Before the knight could react, another mana punch slamd into him—this one even stronger than before.
He was blasted nearly forty tres away.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, the knight quickly scrambled back to his feet.
He braced, expecting Alex to imdiately close in for the finish.
But... Alex didn’t move.
Instead, he simply stood there, hood raised—gazing up at the sky.
It wasn’t so dramatic pose.
It wasn’t for flair.
To the knight’s horror, ominous dark clouds had gathered above the arena—unseen by most until now.
His eyes snapped to Viscount Lars.
The old man stood tall, arms outstretched, lips moving rapidly as he chanted, drawing more mana than any normal spell required.
Those clouds... were his doing.
But the knight couldn’t suppress the unease welling inside him.
’He knows... He clearly knows what Viscount Lars is doing. So why isn’t he stopping it? Why is he just standing there?’
A terrible thought crossed his mind.
’Is he planning to... take it head-on?!’
The very next mont, the air quaked as Viscount Lars roared with venomous triumph:
"Special Warfare Spell: Heaven’s Punishnt!"
**
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