Musa threw the chair leg with all his power like a spear, hoping that it would at least distract Lucien, but what he witnessed was sothing he didn’t even consider a royal prince would do.
Instead of dodging it and charging forward, Lucien dodged and ran away even further.
Musa understood that Lucien backed away so that he could collect himself after the attack and charge again properly.
It was sothing this simple, but Musa’s ego didn’t even consider this.
His ego as a warrior deed this cowardly and unbefitting of a royal prince.
But Lucien couldn’t care less.
Musa was pissed, charging back again, Lucien charged as well.
Another punch ca towards Lucien, but he weaved low under it and drove his fist straight into Musa’s solar plexus, knocking all the air out of his lungs.
Lucien followed up with a roundhouse kick that caught the man square in his neck, nearly knocking his bulbs out.
"Oof!" Musa staggered back, stumbled, and looked at him like he’d grown horns.
"I might be a sorcerer, but I’m still an Adept goddamnit." Musa was irked this ti, not being able to believe that a spoiled brat, an unawakened prince, was defeating him in a bout of hands.
Before he beca a sorcerer after awakening, he was still a professional thug in the alleys.
How the heck was he losing to a greenhorn?
What kind of training does the royal family even give to the heirs?
Never in a million years could he guess that the person in front of him was the strongest Exalt of the Dusk era, and a warrior at that.
While Musa was contemplating all this, Lucien had already launched himself towards him.
Musa realized this too late, and Lucien’s fist made contact with his face, shattering his nose along with his pride.
"Argh!"
Not giving him any chance, Lucien locked his legs with his own and made him fall down, straight on his back, and started raining down punches and kicks.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
An Adept was losing to a mortal.
It was humiliating, and he knew it.
He was holding back his spirit energy because he thought he would easily win.
He had all forms of advantages, be it weight, power, age, experience, everything.
So, where was this deathly precision, agility, and battle instincts even coming from?
He didn’t want to go all out against a kid, but this didn’t matter anymore.
Pride? Ego? Nothing mattered now.
After the third kick that bloodied Musa’s face even more, his aura flared.
"You want to play rough?" he growled. "Let’s do this, your highness. Let’s see how long you last against a real exalt."
The hallway’s temperature spiked.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed as he instantly tried punching his throat, but sothing interrupted him.
Musa raised a hand, and flas blood to life on his palm, burning red.
Lucien instantly backed down, and with a flick, it launched like a cot.
He dove aside, rolling under the fireball as it exploded behind him with a roar, and searing heat licked his back.
’The flas are no joke.’ For the first ti in this fight, Lucien was concerned, as he felt his clothes getting hotter from the residual heat behind.
Before he could even stand properly, another burst ca, even faster this ti.
Lucien pivoted around it, but the heat grazed his arms and scorched the side of his shirt.
The sll of burnt cloth filled the hallways.
Lucien wasn’t getting ti to recover.
But his eyes were following everything like a hawk, his stance, and even his twitch before the casting.
Another burst was coming, and it did.
The third burst arrived, and Lucien wasn’t fast enough this ti.
Fire kissed his left shoulder.
"Aah! Crap!" Lucien scread as the pain tore through him like molten razors.
He fell into a crouch, teeth clenched, blood trickling down his lips.
Lucien’s new body just couldn’t keep up with his mind.
Musa advanced, flas dancing in both of his hands now.
"You are strong, prince, I’d give you that. But I am a very petty guy, you know." Musa spat.
"I’ll turn you into ash, so nobody ever lives to tell this humiliating defeat of mine."
Despite having an upper hand now, Musa’s pride as a warrior was completely shattered by Lucien.
It was a loss in his books, his inflated ego said so.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed, the stench of burnt flesh perating the air.
His body was trembling, burned, and battered. But still upright.
Still fighting.
He can’t give up just yet.
"Petty? You are not petty, Musa. You’re pathetic. There’s a difference between the two—one’s amusing and one’s just sad." Lucien taunted him, hoping he would fall for it.
Musa was fuming, but Lucien continued. "If only your ego were as tough as your mouth, I might’ve actually broken a sweat in the previous bout."
Musa scread, clearly falling for the taunts, as two jets of flas ca raining down.
Lucien ducked the first, but the second was already too close.
He shielded his vitals with his hands and braced for impact, when suddenly, it froze.
The flas froze mid-air.
Literally. Crystallized.
Ti itself seed to stop, as the entire ceiling, floor, and walls of the hallways were coated in ice out of nowhere.
They didn’t even notice when it happened.
Musa’s arms were outstretched, and he couldn’t move.
But sohow, Lucien could.
He was breathing, panting heavily, bloodied and bruised, when he suddenly felt soone arrive there.
He turned his head to the side and noticed a man was standing right next to him.
His skin was pale like marble, Hair silver and silky, draping over his shoulders, and his eyes were colorless too.
He looked more like a ghost than a person, yet the air around him bent to his will.
"Let give you the sa gift I gave to your partner, brawny." The silver-haired man smiled slightly.
But the smile made Musa more uneasy than happy.
His gut feeling was telling him to reject the ’gift’ he was about to receive.
"Let’s not-"
But before he could even finish, a sudden gust of wind zood past him.
"What just- Huh?"
Musa’s eyes widened when he noticed that his entire world had flipped upside down, and soon, sothing blocked his vision.
Then it finally hit him.
That wasn’t a wall. That was his own torso.
Musa was decapitated.
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