Chapter 113
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Chapter 113: Four Systems Against One
As a reincarnator who’d known pride, endured failure, and tasted death, Midi had every right to speak those words. Most geniuses truly lacked hardship and discipline. But in this setting, his lecturing tone only provoked.
Martin, hailed as the top swordsman, wouldn’t tolerate what he saw as a spoiled brat’s empty boasts. Rage flared in Martin’s eyes. He charged like an enraged bull, his slender sword—feared by countless foes—leaving its sheath. Midi drew his pitch-black Black Sky sword, resilient enough to channel Ultimate Intent.
The rivals faced each other. The gleaming slim sword clashed violently against the dark blade in a shower of sparks, their faces briefly illuminated. Martin, driven by fury, sought total domination from the start. His blade stabbed like a viper’s tongue—swift, ruthless, precise—targeting Midi’s vitals in a storm-like barrage.
Even Midi resorted to tight defense initially. Yet he felt little strain. Long before grasping Ultimate Intent, he’d fought the level 45 "Hand of Nightmare" and faced dark elf roaming gunslingers wielding peerless marksmanship in the Elven Kingdom. This life alone gave him ample experience against elites.
Rose Mountain City was hostile territory—a battlefield. A seasoned warrior like Midi naturally sharpened his instincts here. His defense flowed like water, the black blade forming an unyielding curtain that shattered Martin’s attacks into harmless clangs.
But Midi knew better. The Hamilton family’s top swordsman wouldn’t stop at basic strikes. This was mere warm-up. True lethal moves would follow. Yet perpetual defense risked fatal gaps against such foes. Counterattacks were essential.
Midi angled his sword like a shield, deflecting a thrust while borrowing its momentum to leap back. Before Martin could chase, the black-haired boy dissolved into shadows—Ghost Cry skill: Demon Shadow Flash.
Through their skirmish, Midi discerned Martin’s style. A pure level 40 sword soul relied on blinding speed—strikes, movement, reflexes. This speed had once deflected Midi’s Ultimate Intent. Close combat against such speed at a four-level disadvantage invited disaster.
Distance was wiser. As a Demon Swordman, Midi’s left arm housed a demon god’s power beyond ordinary levels. Blending all four Demon Swordman systems for ranged suppression became his optimal strategy.
Twenty meters apart now, Midi channeled dense magic at his sword’s tip. Dozens of fireballs erupted—Asura skill: Exploding Flame Orbs—engulfing Martin and the surrounding area. Uncharged, these orbs lacked the force that once blew open the Blood Blade Mercenary Corps’ gates, but their concentrated lethality scorched white gravel black and birthed a Fire Sea under choking smoke.
Most practitioners would’ve been obliterated. Yet Midi knew his rival wouldn’t fall so easily—this was merely to humiliate him before the grand arena’s crowds.
True to expectations, Martin burst from the smoke. A kick sent white sand surging backward as he rocket-charged Midi, now convinced the boy was a roaming gunslinger needing melee suppression.
However, Midi wasn’t a roaming gunslinger, but he had plenty of ways to keep opponents at bay. A charged magic array instantly materialized across Martin’s path. The white sand arena became overgrown with jagged ice spikes as frost spread like winter’s sudden return.
Another Ghost Cry skill – Ice Binding Array.
Martin merely snorted at the frozen terrain, charging straight through instead of detouring. His feet seemed to glide on wind as he nimbly stepped on ice spikes, evading sudden shards erupting from below. Within moments, he’d crossed half the distance – just seconds from breaking through to reach Midi.
But Midi wasn’t idle either. Magical energy surged around the Black Sky sword again. While Martin navigated the icy maze, freezing arrows shot from its edge.
Another Asura skill – Ice Blade Wave Sword.
Martin’s pace finally faltered as he dodged the projectiles. When he emerged from the ice field, Midi had already used Demon Shadow Flash to retreat, pelting him with familiar Exploding Flame Orbs.
Distance control. Firepower bombardment. Tactical restraints.
Simple yet brutally effective. Even seeing the strategy, Martin couldn’t counter it.
However powerful sword souls might be, they’re just one branch of Demon Swordmen. Midi’s mysterious demon god arm granted all four Demon Swordman disciplines. Beyond the uncontrollable Berserker path, he wielded long-range, mid-range, and melee skills – a complete tactical counter to sword souls.
Multiple disciplines didn’t guarantee victory. Against "Nightmare Hand" Wiseman Newton or the dark elf roaming gunslinger, Midi had barely survived.
But this wasn’t life-or-death combat. This "Battle for Honor" before thousands prioritized public perception over victory. By making Martin dance to his tune, Midi eroded his opponent’s prestige regardless of the eventual outcome.
The "top swordsmanship expert" getting outmaneuvered by a sub-40 level Count’s son? Forced to dodge spells while failing to land a single hit? With Rose City’s elite – including Princess Fina – watching his humiliation?
Martin’s rage burned. Pretense abandoned, he revealed his trump card.
The fearsome slim sword shifted to his left hand. From his right erupted a blazing streak that shattered Midi’s ice blades mid-air.
Powerful!
Midi’s eyes narrowed. He’d suspected Martin’s true weapon wasn’t the slim sword but a Lightsaber – a sword soul’s proper armament.
The reality proved different.
Not a blade, but a crackling whip of lightning – a weapon compensating for close-range limitations.
"Midi Asreks," Martin spat, licking his lips with a cruel smile. "I’ll admit you forced my hand. But now you’ll pay dearly for making me unveil Thunder Whip before thousands."
The electric whip hissed through air like a striking serpent, its razor-sharp whistle piercing the arena.
