Chapter 525

Chapter 525: Grind, Grind, Grind

Shelly never realized Midi had positioned her as a Grinding Stone.

To her, the battle held no suspense after unleashing her three consecutive skills: "Death Ice River," "ice shield," and "Ice Spirit Bow."

If one barrage couldn’t kill Midi, she’d simply fire more.

If multiple barrages failed, she’d unleash even greater numbers.

Attacks were always stronger than defense.

Eventually, Midi would fail to block an ice arrow, and it would pierce his body—merely a matter of time.

Maintaining three skills simultaneously cost Shelly more energy than Midi. Yet she bore the Ice Dragon Bloodline. Though her bloodline powers were diluted, they sufficed against Midi. This lineage not granted her the awakened Secret Technique "Death Ice River," but also minimized her ice-skill costs, maximizing magic efficiency. Even sustaining three skills, her Physical Strength would last days. Exhausting her into surrender? Impossible.

Though Midi consumed less energy, how could he maintain such low consumption while blocking endless arrows? All evidence showed Shelly suppressed him, and he’d made the worst choice: a melee profession standing distant, serving as target for a controlling ranged profession. The inevitable outcome? Midi’s utter demise.

“Let’s see, human, how many arrows you’ll endure.” Confident in her Undefeated Position, Shelly relaxed, even adopting a casual air as she mocked him. She loosed ice arrows relentlessly while maintaining flawless distance—an impregnable strategy.

The sole anomaly was Midi himself. He’d chosen poorly, posing zero threat now. Yet his face stayed utterly calm, unshaken. Despite overwhelming disadvantage—engulfed in ice and snow, battered by a Storm of Arrows—he swung his sword with machine-like precision, deflecting every strike without impatience.

He seemed not on the Black Dragon Conference’s Arena, but a training ground. Not facing an eastern temple expert, but magic automatons spitting ice arrows.

As time stretched, Shelly discovered something alarming: Midi’s recovery abilities fully offset his consumption! She’d fired hundreds of arrows—Scattershot barrages, high-impact snipes, hidden shots amid chaos—yet Midi blocked every single ice arrow.

The Horn King Greatsword in his hand, covered in swirling Black Flames, whipped through the air at blinding speed, creating a solid sphere of light that allowed nothing to breach it. Every object daring to approach this sphere met precise slashes that reduced them to icy fragments. This flawless defense showed no signs of weakening.

The Black Iron Dragon Flame enveloping Midi burned fiercely despite the Death Ice River’s bone-chilling cold, as though it could never be extinguished. Whenever Shelly’s attacks slowed even slightly, Midi instantly pressed forward, his relentless advance forcing her to maintain her assault without pause. Though Shelly held the initiative, the arena’s oppressive atmosphere unmistakably favored Midi.

Black Dragon warriors in the stands exchanged bewildered glances. Even Shelly felt shaken—how could mere resistance from this human make her feel cornered?

In truth, blocking each strike cost Midi dearly. Shelly’s ice arrows surpassed any wandering gunslinger’s attacks he’d faced. A single missed arrow meant heavy injury. Though he shattered every projectile with his greatsword, the impacts still rattled his bones. Each arrow feather crafted from Ice Shards hit with the force of a Purple Gold Scorpion’s strike. Hundreds collided against his blade, their cumulative shockwaves straining him to the brink.

This was the raw disparity between level 65 and 68. Without his superior True Dragon bloodline and the Primary True Dragon Body Refinement Method, he’d have fallen instantly. The stalemate unnerving Shelly pushed Midi to his absolute limit—no reserves, no retreat. Yet this extreme pressure cracked the bottleneck stifling his cultivation. Black Iron Dragon Flame surged from his True Dragon Sword, battling the icy dominion as his peak-level 65 power inched toward breakthrough.

A silver-bell voice sliced through the chaos: “Shelly. You’re too slow.”

Shelly paled. The Ice Queen Catherine’s approval mattered more than victory. A level 68 eastern temple fighter struggling against a level 65 human? Unforgivable. Shelly abandoned caution. Frost light flared in her eyes as her Ice Spirit Bow expanded. Icy fragments coalesced into four freezing spears. Hidden beneath snow near Midi, four Ice Spirit Swords lay in wait.

She drew her bow into an icy full moon. A beam of cold light shot toward Midi as spears and hidden swords attacked from nine directions. Shelly chanted, intensifying the Death Ice River’s grip. Nine weapons blazed, weaving a white net that shredded Midi’s flames under a storm of snowflakes and ice.

Catherine nodded. “Finally. That human’s tricks can’t withstand the Death Ice River. Shelly’s too cautious, holding her back from real power.”

An explosion rocked the arena. From the white tempest, a black fire pillar tore through the sky.