Fighting against a Green by himself was arguably reckless, but the man was already two limbs down. If Percy couldn’t even beat him in this state, then it would just mean their plan had been doomed from the start.

“Just who are you people?! Are you members of House Avalon?!”

Percy wasn’t that surprised by the accurate guess, but he wasn’t that interested in chatting either.

Dashing forward, he launched another round of throwing stars, not even bothering to turn them invisible this time – the guy would just spot them through Mana Sense.

The earth mage hopped out of the way using his one good leg. His movements looked a little silly, but he didn’t get hit even once, evading all the constructs without fail. Not just that, but Percy didn’t miss the ripples of earth mana spreading through the ground every time the man’s foot landed in the mud.

‘Nice try.’ Percy leapt out of the way whenever his opponent’s soul flared, dodging the rising stalagmites.

Still, this wasn’t going to work. Even with Synchronization active and two cores at his disposal, Percy couldn’t possibly match a Green’s regeneration. At this rate, he would run out of mana first.

Calling the scythe back, he threw it at his opponent, following it by another barrage of teal daggers. The man dodged everything again, but he was forced to use some mana at the end, propelling himself out of a dagger’s path.

‘Good. This can work.’ Percy grinned, pulling the Soul Harvester towards him once more, pressing on his advantage.

The scythe’s attacks didn’t cost him any mana, so he could keep spamming them to drain his opponent. Of course, he was certain the man could easily shatter the weapon to pieces if he managed to grab a hold of it. Sadly for him, however, this wasn’t an option – not as long as Percy kept it in its incorporeal state.

That said, the earth mage didn’t allow himself to remain passive either. Intensifying his own efforts to pin Percy down, he unleashed a relentless onslaught of powerful spells. He shot lots of compact stone arrows at ridiculous speeds, pairing them with insidious stalagmites that stabbed from various angles.

Percy had to keep his Soul Vision glued to his opponent’s soul, and his Mana Sense fixed on the ground beneath his feet, barely giving himself the briefest of margins to dodge the deadly attacks. Like that, the two men danced on the battlefield, the splashing waters of the swamp breaking the sombre silence of the Grisly Bog.

On one side, Broose had the overwhelming advantage afforded to him by his higher grade and his many decades of experience, as well as the confidence that came with it. Unfortunately for him, he was also missing two limbs, leaking a scary amount of blood with every passing second.

On the other side, Percy had his own tools to rely on, desperately trying to bridge the monumental gap to his monstrous opponent. His boosting art and twin cores worked together to elevate his physique beyond a Yellow’s, but even that wasn’t enough by itself. He had to supplement his lacking reflexes with the foresight afforded to him by Soul Vision, and to bolster his subpar agility with the grace and precision of his two fighting styles. As for the difference in mana regeneration? His only choice was to whittle Broose’s mana pool down, one spell at a time, by exploiting the scythe he had painstakingly created.

In other words, Percy had to use everything

at his disposal – and then some – hoping it would be enough.

But it was! Or seemed to be, at least. At some point, Percy noticed his opponent’s attack had come a second too late. He didn’t think much of it at first, but it happened again a minute later. And then a third time, even sooner than that. Once or twice could be written off as a mistake, but this was starting to look like a pattern.

‘Either he’s trying to bait me again, or the blood loss is finally getting to him.’

Both were possible – the guy had already proven he was as cunning as a fox. But he was human too, and he’d already lost a ton of blood by now.

Not willing to miss what might be a huge opportunity, Percy prepared his mantle again, launching another barrage of throwing stars, while simultaneously pulling the scythe towards him.

Unable to dodge both attacks, Broose chose to evade the far deadlier Harvester, allowing some of the throwing stars to hit him. He winced as three of them sank a couple inches into his soul, his knee visibly shaking from the pain. But he didn’t let himself collapse just yet. Still, Percy knew it was only a matter of time.

‘Not a bluff then. He really is at the end of the rope.’

Capitalizing on this, Percy repeated the same tactic, forcing his opponent to eat another handful of small attacks, gnawing away at his endurance one shallow wound at a time.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

But the experienced Green wasn’t going to give up this easily, it seemed.

The third time Percy tried this, Broose dodged the scythe again, though he didn’t even bother to avoid the throwing stars, letting them hit him all at once. The damage caused his soul to shudder, but he ignored it. He glared hatefully at Percy, his eyes bloodshot, a savage grin plastered all over his face.

At the same time, a large amount of mana gushed out of his sternum – this was everything the man had left! – before unleashing several spells at Percy, all at once.

Three stalagmites shot at him from various angles, forcing him to tiptoe around two of them, twisting his torso at an unnatural angle to narrowly escape the third one. But that was just the beginning, as four stone arrows arrived next, right when Percy was in no position to dodge them properly.

He did manage to avoid two of them, but the third one pierced a hole in his shoulder, all but disabling his left arm entirely. As for the last one, it was heading straight towards Percy’s heart – he couldn’t evade it!

Gritting his teeth, Percy turned the Soul Harvester corporeal, rotating its shaft to block the arrow.

It worked – sort of – as the two constructs collided against one another, shattering in a rain of shrapnel. Percy had escaped certain death, but he didn’t come out of this unscathed either.

Coughing a mouthful of blood, he fell to his knees, half a dozen shards of his own spell lodged into his torso. One had even grazed his cheek, leaving a shallow cut right below his eye. Had it flown a couple inches to the left, Percy might have died already.

‘Fuck. This was his goal all along.’ he realized grimly, looking up at the earth mage.

He was grinning at him!

The man had probably realized he couldn’t win unless he robbed Percy of his weapon first. After all, the scythe was quite the cheat! It packed more of a punch than a Yellow’s spell, and Percy could keep spamming it at no cost. And… the only way to rob Percy of his weapon had been to force him to block with it!

‘It doesn’t matter. His condition is just as shitty as mine. No… it’s even worse. He’s out of mana!’

Broose was breathing heavily, his core empty. Apparently, this last move had cost him the last of his reserves.

‘I can’t let him recover!’

Knowing this was his chance, Percy smashed the three stalagmites trapping him, freeing his body before rising to his feet. Even the slightest movement hurt, but he had to kill his opponent before he began casting spells again!

Ignoring his injuries, he dashed towards him as quickly as he could manage, while drawing the Soul Harvester towards him. More than half of the shaft was broken, but the piece holding the blade could still be used in a fight.

As soon as he reached Broose, he swung the broken weapon down at him, trying to chop the man’s soul to pieces.

But the latter hopped out of the way without much difficulty. He didn’t seem to struggle detecting the weapon either, as its enchantment had come undone in many places, a series of cracks ruining the few remaining concealment runes.

Percy wasn’t one to be deterred so easily, however. Pivoting around the earth mage, he slashed at him horizontally, aiming right below his ribs.

Broose leapt backwards to avoid the attack, before diving forward again, trying to land a hook with his remaining fist. Percy hurriedly ducked, feeling a rush of air brush over his hair. He was keenly aware he’d lose his head should the Green’s punch connect.

‘Then, I guess I just won’t give you the chance.’

Spitting a mouthful of blood at his enemy’s face, Percy rushed him again, stabbing at his torso.

The man twisted his body to avoid it, having probably seen through the clumsy sneak attack via Mana Sense. Next, he punched at Percy’s stomach.

Percy had to move the scythe’s blade in the way, to absorb some of the impact. The teal construct shattered into more shards as Percy was sent back, his feet carving two wide trails through the mud.

Not giving up, he summoned the shards to his hand, one of them stabbing his palm by accident. But he ignored the pain, tossing them at Broose, hoping he’d have a tougher time avoiding them like this.

The latter hopped away from the first one, ducked beneath the second, only allowing the third to graze his arm, before sending two more stalagmites stabbing at Percy, exhausting his reserves again.

Percy pushed against the first stalagmite, using it as a crutch to dodge the second, before drawing the shards to him once more, trying to hit his opponent from behind. At the same time, he also emptied his own cores, throwing a few teal daggers too.

Finally, the earth mage failed miserably, getting hit by most of the projectiles. Two of the shards stabbed into his back, a handful of the knives digging into his soul. But none of the constructs had enough force behind them to rip a Green’s soul apart.

Left with no other choice, Percy dashed forward, slamming into his opponent with as much strength as he could muster, knocking him into the mud.

Broose tried to fight back, but Percy didn’t let him, punching with his one good hand again and again, trying to pummel the enemy’s skull into a pulp.

Eventually, the man managed to land a hit of his own on Percy’s stomach, causing him to cough another mouthful of blood.

Uncaring about the sweet taste of iron in his mouth, and unbothered by the sticky liquid dirtying his chin, Percy resumed his assault, hoping his opponent would give out before he did.

The two continued their brutal slugfest, Percy’s flesh bruising and his bones cracking every time his opponent connected. Luckily for him, Broose had already lost most of his strength, his attacks barely a shadow of what they should’ve been. This was the only reason Percy had even lasted this long.

Neither of them bothered to replenish their mana anymore – it was impossible as both combatants were constantly out of breath. At this point, Percy was just happy Synchronization was still active – the few dregs of mana swirling around his channels were the only things keeping him alive.

Whoever ended up winning, this fight was destined to end by one’s fist.

Everything blurred in Percy’s vision, as he continued to unleash everything he had at his opponent. In the end, he didn’t even register when the man breathed his last. The only thing that gave Percy pause was when he saw Broose’s soul beginning to crumble.

Exhaling in relief, he wanted nothing more than to plop back and rest. But he couldn’t do that just yet. He didn’t worry about Nesha as much – Micky should have taken her to where they’d stashed some of their spare healing potions.

But there was one thing he still had to do.

‘The operation! I need to get Micky to eat his soul, or everything will have been for nothing!’

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep