– Uhh, everyone safe? @Teknis (Realmer)

– What the hell is going on? @M’erra (Realmer)

– Even Vitalia got attacked. Mezhar was supposed to be nearby but he’s gone missing. @Atrisle (Realmer)

– Shady City is the only city not attacked, even Ulverra got bombed. @ Ezieeel (Realmer)

– This has to be Earth right? @ Leaflegends352 (Realmer)

– Blackout Information Lockdown Protocols are in effect. ALL ADVENTURERS are to report to the closest adventurer’s guild immediately for a full accounting.

– Seriously, what the fuck is going on with The Realm these days? @ Leverager(Unverified)

*There was an uptick in immigration towards the Shadow Tyrant’s city.

Ryan’s black robes fluttered as he faced what would be the last battle with the Obsidian Sect’s leader. Nobody but Gamielle and the two elders were allowed to stay to watch. Ryan wasn’t comfortable with others knowing his capabilities and he wanted to know just how far his arm would go without getting recharged.

Larix Vailsafe wasn’t in his robes. The Sect leader elected to wear a dark gi. Tight enchanted wrappings at his limbs reducing any loose clothing and providing slashing defense akin to enchanted steel. Larix also had metal bracers on his arms that were made of some dark green metal Ryan had never seen before.

The human cultivator looked nothing like a prestigious sect leader but looked as if he himself was the challenger. Larix gave Ryan a gesture of respect.

“It is a little unbecoming to challenge one so early in their journey but I believe I won’t be able to fight you on even terms in your next realm. Please hold nothing back.”

Ryan smiled at his too-respectful opponent, his teeth bared.

“Win or lose I’m not giving you these robes back.”

The sect leader looked up at the [Rogue] in surprise, the man’s eye twitched. Larix had brought out a bunch of enchanted gear on the side, the meaning obvious. It was normal to wager something in an adventurer’s duel, and the man wanted to wager for his robes back.

“I can wager Knives of Returning and a shockweave bag. I can even throw in armor suitable for a realm five for free-”

Gamielle cut Larix off.

“Can’t do that. If it’s anything useful he has to earn it properly.”

“And I’m not betting these robes. I’ve really grown attached.”

He’d be absolutely stupid to wager something hand woven by the Witch Tyrant. Not only did it mean that the robes would be ridiculously expensive, but it was likely that nobody could interrupt the emergency spell matrix on the back.

Plus they were the most comfortable thing he’d ever felt, Ryan could see why Larix desperately wanted them back.

The sect leader looked at Ryan’s stubborn face with despair, then he looked at Gamielle for help. The [Mage] pursed her lips, thinking.

Ryan didn’t like that.

“Hey, don’t go looking to her for help. She can’t tell me what to do.”

Gamielle narrowed her eyes at him and put her hands on her hips. Ryan threw up his arms before she could chime in.

“I’m not betting! Why can’t we just have a regular spar with nothing at stake? I’m getting sick of high stakes duels.”

That was, of course, only partly true. He had slowly gotten used to sparring with Seffara and Larix with no strings attached. There was a definite sense of calm and constant improvement there that he had enjoyed.

Though there was nothing quite like a high stakes duel. If Ryan was being honest, he had zero confidence in beating Larix in a fair duel. Epic quality fifth realm arm or not, Larix was at least fifth realm in strength. Possibly greater in skill. They’d have to wager something multiple times the value of his robes for it to be fair odds.

Gamielle wrinkled her nose at Ryan. She smelled something off.

“You know why. Wagers help increase the value of the duel, achievements wise,” she raised an eyebrow. “You really want to keep that emergency spell huh?”

“Way to play favorites.”

She’d just handed Larix a blatant hint on what Ryan actually cared about. He just wondered if that would lead Larix to realize he was actually only on one life. That was probably a stretch but it definitely helped with negotiations for the Sect Leader.

Larix scratched his stubble.

“I will stake durability boots and five realm five grade knives of returning, I will also throw in an emergency teleportation scroll crafted by a dragonslayer [Mage] should you lose,” he put up his hand to prevent Gamielle from interrupting him. “This is a wager between Ryan and I and I would like less help on the matter,” then he turned back to Ryan, “I believe this deal is far fairer to you considering the spell matrix on those robes are a one time use.”

Of course the sect leader was telling Gamielle to shut up after taking her advice. Unfair, but it was a good offer. Ryan hated having to retrieve or steal knives after every fight. Not only that, it seemed like standard throwing knives wouldn’t cut it anymore considering how they seemed to shatter with just a little bit of his aura placed in them.

It seemed like a good deal… on paper. Unfortunately the clearly rich sect leader missed the mark. While functionally it was a good trade, the robes were still far, far more expensive than everything that was being offered. He wasn’t getting scammed like that.

“Add ten million dollars in realmcoin to a brand new account that’s usable on Earth.”

“Are you fucking ser-”

“Done.”

“Finally.”

Ryan rolled his shoulders, now more excited about this fight than any other so far, Gamielle was looking at him like an idiot… or an asshole. He didn’t know which, and frankly he didn’t really care. Ryan just grinned at her.

“Got hospital bills and everything else to pay for, besides we raised the stakes to something I cared about. It’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

She looked at him in disgust and turned her attention to Larix.

“Kick his ass Larix, I won’t forgive you if you lose.”

“As Lady Gamielle wishes.”

The cultivator raised his left arm, an iron wall, reinforced by enchanted banners. Right fist was chambered at his side, a cannon ready to fire.

Ryan grinned as he felt his arm churn. He hadn’t backed down, not really. It was all to raise the stakes higher. His soulsword shook under the pressure. He had eight knives, four strapped to his chest and four at his belt.

They both charged forwards.

[Aura Condensation: Blade]

The red blade that formed was larger than any greatsword. It slashed sideways at blistering speed.

The cultivator spun upwards. Using his left gauntleted hand to parry away the side of the blade aura. His other fist came out to fire. Ryan lifted his elbow at the same time to match the strike, his left hand reaching for a knife to throw.

The knife went skidding across Larix’s left hand, contemptuously blocked with a flick of the wrist. However Ryan’s right elbow met Larix’s gauntleted right fist and both fighters winced in pain. Ryan leapt away before the iron left wall could come crashing down.

The elation of visibly hurting the Sect leader for the first time lasted for only a split second. Pain radiated from his elbow and the [Aura Condensation] flickered out. He looked over it and didn’t see any visible damage, yet something had clearly happened. His aura refused to cycle through infinity, when he tried to force the circulation his entire arm started to shake.

Fuck.

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Ryan eyed the gauntlets suspiciously then dismissed the idea that the gauntlets were some sort of qi hex. Larix wouldn’t use cheats like that. It had to have been something the sect leader had done. Larix was frowning at his own fist as he checked it over for damage. After clenching his right fist a few times the sect leader seemed satisfied with the recovery and smiled at Ryan’s accusatory glare.

“I will explain. After I win.”

The cultivator charged forwards. This time both fists chambered and ready to fire. It was devastating that his supposed evolved arm had been hampered so thoroughly in the first strike but Ryan had no time to come to terms with it.

The cultivator was on the full offensive.

Larix did not throw out multiple blows like Valee but dove and ducked around, looking for a single opening for a singular devastating strike. It left him exposed and would’ve been absolutely stupid if it was anyone else. Unfortunately this was Larix Vailsafe, disciple of both Lindred and Gudriel. He could flow past your attacks like water and then punch a hole through a tank.

Ryan didn’t dare go for any half hearted blows, full focus was on not letting the monstrous cultivator get a good position for a strike. He flickered out two knives at his opponent’s eyes but Larix was too nimble, he just let the knives glance off the sides of his face and refused to let the [Rogue] gain any sort of distance. Larix was trying to keep the momentum, being casual as to display his dominance over him.

One too many spars had given Larix too much understanding of Ryan’s Epic.

Larix shifted his bodyweight to the side and Ryan instinctively began to dodge. The shot never came, Larix had waited until that slightest reaction to truly fire. Ryan twisted out of the way, trying to parry the fist with his upgraded arm.

It wasn’t enough.

On the backfoot without momentum or intimidation meant that his arm was weak. Perhaps weaker than a regular [Warrior] at the fifth realm.

The cultivator’s fist pushed Ryan’s own arm into his chest and made him go flying. Ryan had just barely jumped up in time to throw his whole body with the strike, reducing the blow. Still it was bad, and Larix… He wasn’t letting go of his opportunity, he pressed forward, giving him no time to breathe.

[Instant Dodge]

Ryan flew backwards faster than Larix could chase, he tried to keep the burst of speed up, leaping back at each step. Despite the gap increasing, Larix refused to stop chasing, his arms still in the offensive position.

“Give me a break!”

He grabbed two knives from his belt and tried to imbue them with aura. A flash of pain radiated from his elbow and ricocheted around his arm as he threw plain metal knives. Larix didn’t even pause, he just let the auraless knives ping off his face and chest.

This was no fun one point spar. This was a real duel.

“Fuck.”

Ryan had to fix whatever had been done to his arm, he just couldn’t concentrate on it while Larix was hounding him. He switched the broken sword to his left hand and let out the weakest [Aura Slash] he’d ever done.

It was still dangerous enough to make Larix need to punch through the red wave.

That gave him some distance, and with it some much needed breathing room. Ryan focused on his arm…

He first checked his elbow, the source of his skill and the original contact point with Larix’s fist. It seemed fine, then he moved on to his bones, they were slightly cracked but still alive and functioning perfectly. He moved on to his wrist. At this point, he was almost not expecting to find anything but right at his wrist he saw something. Where infinity ended and the roots began, located at what was probably the weakest part of his combination circulatory technique, there was a tiny embed of foreign energy.

Larix’s qi.

What the fuck?

Ryan was still dashing backwards at top speed, he’d slowed down to focus and Larix had taken that time to close the gap.

The foreign qi blocking just a part of the flow meant that his entire circulatory system didn’t function. Ryan had heard of skill breaking skills, they were supposed to be an entire category of horrendously difficult-to-learn and less-than-useful skills that people never picked up.

But his arm wasn’t a skill. It was a class, disrupting someone’s energy to the point where they couldn’t properly use their energy was supposed to be something dragonslayers did as a party trick on lower realm adventurers.

Larix had done that in a single exchange of fists. One where his fist had touched Ryan’s elbow.

Gamielle’s words echoed in his mind. Ryan hadn’t realized what her words had meant till now.

‘Even fifty more years and Larix might be strong enough to maintain it on his own.’

Larix, the studious cultivator, who had written down every single step of Ryan’s experimentations. Who had probably observed the evolution of many, many unique adventurers. He had found a perfect place to destroy Ryan’s circulatory system in less than a day.

Damned cheater.

This wasn’t supposed to be the point of the duel. They were supposed to be finding out the limits of Ryan’s arm given standard conditions. Apparently Larix had completely forgotten about that point with the robes in play.

If he’s going to cheat then so am I.

All of these thoughts flashed in Ryan’s head as Larix closed the gap. Ryan had dashed too far back, he was close to the wall of the training yard and maneuvering around would require at least one more deadly exchange.

He tried to physically shake his arm to see if the foreign qi would dislodge. No dice. Ryan tried to circulate his aura anyway but the throbbing pain in his arm told him that wouldn’t be the right way forward either.

That was all the time he had. Larix was on him as Ryan switched his soulsword to his left hand and condensed his aura there. Then swung.

Even with his weaker hand Larix took it cautiously. He tilted to the side and launched his right fist to parry the blade away, then he tilted his body to the other side, the perfect angle to launch his other fist.

Ryan recalled the blade into his right hand. All already nicely wrapped in his aura. His right arm might not be able to circulate aura but his left sure still could.

Weakened or not, the realm five arm flicked the aura wrapped soulsword at Larix’s chest. Ryan twisted as he saw the cultivator’s eyes go wide and stop mid-punch to dodge the blade. That was all the opening Ryan needed–to dive away and run parallel to the courtyard walls.

The walls of the training yard were over twenty feet high, designed for superhumans and a little too high to jump vertically. The enchanted barrier on the walls extended much, much higher into the sky but those were transparent. This was no dirt cave where he’d fought Zedart.

Ryan sprinted at the corner, like he was going to run headfirst into it. Larix was speeding up, the sect leader’s acceleration might have been slower than his but his top speed was not. Larix was taking the cautious approach after that last maneuver. A casual approach to show he had the dominance, further damaging his aura from building up.

That methodical assurance would be the sect leader’s downfall.

Right before he hit the corner of the wall, Ryan leapt up, the wind rushing across his face as he stepped lightly onto the courtyard wall, then he jumped off the vertical wall and into the other side, leaping again and grabbing the shingles of the courtyard walls, then he flipped himself upwards and on top of the training ground. The enchanted barrier kept him from running outside. Not that he had any intention of running out. Not when he was about to turn it around.

There they were, like he knew they would be. The cultivators of the obsidian sect, they had been waiting outside.

They did love a spectacle after all. Ryan pumped his fist in the air, a declaration of victory.

Then he felt it, the pull of his Epic, his skill. It screamed in righteous fury that it had been suppressed. It pulled–no he pulled as he figured out what to do.

The arm shook in fury but Larix’s qi held.

[Unrelenting Aura of Intimidation] kept churning. Ryan took it all and his arm burned. His wrist literally shaking under the weight as he tried to put this newfound aura to burn away the foreign qi.

It didn’t work. Larix’s arrogant voice called out from the ground.

“Did you think it would be that easy to remove that qi blocker? You have greedily taken a path that combined many domineering aspects with arrogance. Then you so arrogantly believed yourself capable of defeating me. This duel was never for you to win. This duel was for you to learn some humility. Sometimes, you have to admit that there are impossible–”

“Shut it.”

Ryan’s shout of pain probably looked hostile to the people below him. His skill fed on it, getting stronger and making the whole situation even worse, a horrible feedback loop. It was naive to think that whatever had been done by Larix could be removed with more aura. The pain rocketed up, threatening to shatter his entire circulatory system.

It frustrated him to no end that his evolved arm had been neutered so thoroughly. There was nothing he could do.

So Ryan did the only thing he could think of. He doubled down. He pulled and pulled, feeling something different.

Larix, sensing something amiss, jumped. Taking the same route Ryan did.

A few of the obsidian sect members noticed what Ryan was doing and tried to stop him from feeding off them–too few, and far too late. The vast majority of the crowd didn’t understand what was going on. They had their attention on him.

Something else called to him, not his skill that fed off fear–but his class, or more accurately, the class of his arm.

Suddenly everything seemed small, so tiny. The obsidian sect members, Larix below him and even the problem at his wrist. Ryan stared at his right hand.

What a silly little situation.

Larix kicked off the wall as Ryan condensed a much larger aura around one of his throwing knives. He pulled at it with his left arm and sent out a lazy [Aura Slash]. It disintegrated the knife but it had the desired effect. Larix had to throw both his arms to fend off the red wave, stopping his momentum and making the sect leader fall back to the ground. Ryan barely paid attention, his eyes ever so slightly tinting into a deep red.

The Tyrant shook his head and turned to the crowd, letting the metallic dust fall into the wind behind him. He reveled in the attention the crowd gave him. He took it all in, their attention and awe at what looked like a casual dismissal of their sect leader. It fueled him as he revolved his aura. One revolution. Two revolutions.

The foreign qi held firm. The impediment was like a lone warrior standing at a valley, impeding the rightful ruler’s forces by himself.

How dare a hostile foreign influence impair his path?

A tyrant did what a tyrant did best. It brought all its weight down to bear from the very start, he pushed his entire aura into the point at his wrist. Not at the impediment, but at the very walls themselves.

The circulatory structure at his wrist shattered. Pain exploded from his wrist but Ryan had little care for it. His aura leaked from his wrist in an uncontrolled mass, no longer having the root visualization to aid him.

Uncontrolled mass? Pitiful. He forced it to regain structure, the great force reforming into a semblance of a fist.

His fist.

Larix leapt on the wall once more following Ryan’s steps. But it was too late. The sect leader’s eyes grew wide.

Ryan grinned down at Larix, he had the high ground, he had the upper hand and now he had the momentum. He threw his fist at the cultivator. Ryan’s class pulled at the world around them, demanding that the sect leader face the unrelenting tyrant head on.

Larix managed to barely pull away at the last moment, he put both his hands together to block Ryan’s punch. There was a resounding clash as Larix flew into the ground, his back smashing into the dirt floor.

Ryan turned to address the audience and bowed.

“Thank you all for your contribution.”

Then he leapt back down to the courtyard. Larix had jumped away from his landing point and had a defensive posture. Ryan rolled his shoulder and grinned at the sect leader. There was no need to rush. He was going to enjoy this.

“Alright, now what was that about trying to teach me humility?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep