Chapter 377

Chapter 377: Chop, Chop, Chop

The frail human sent the mighty Lizardman flying!

And this happened in a direct clash of strength!

How was this possible?

Both Wolfspider tribe warriors and slave warriors stood frozen, eyes wide and jaws slack as they stared at the unbelievable scene. Their reason screamed denial, yet reality left no room for argument.

Even the proud priestess Galantis gaped in shock. Her gaze toward Midi became conflicted as conflicting emotions surged within her – she couldn’t tell whether she wanted this disobedient slave to win or die horribly. Still, seeing her rival Zaride humiliated remained satisfying.

Only Zaknavan showed composure, his momentary surprise quickly replaced by acceptance. "Don’t get careless yet, human," he murmured, an anticipatory smile tugging his lips.

Midi paid no attention to the crowd’s reactions. During this savage exchange, he’d made a startling discovery – the aura of his Spirit Dragon Sword had grown purer! Though taking heavy hits as a Demon Swordman in close combat, each blow hammered his spiritual weapon like a blacksmith’s hammer refining steel.

Since his awakening, he’d rarely been injured in battle, never experiencing this forging-through-combat effect. His near-fatal injury from the demon viscount during the Behemoth battle had been too severe for growth. But now, facing an opponent slightly weaker in raw physical power created perfect tempering conditions!

The Eighth Apostle’s wisdom truly differs from mortals, Midi marveled. A single suggestion about "taking more hits" now seemed brilliant rather than mad.

"Again." Midi wiped blood from his mouth and advanced. The Golden-Red Sword Lights around him now swirled with streaks of bloodlight, radiating bloody killing intent like crimson whirlwind.

Berserker skill: Blood Awakening.

This signature move boosted speed, attack frequency, and defensive power. Less potent than the trump card Blood Frenzy, but without side effects. Though ordinary Demon Swordmen risked mental corruption when unleashing demon god powers, Midi’s perfect fusion left him unaffected. He craved simple, brutal combat requiring neither strategy nor finesse.

"Done already?" Midi taunted the Lizardman who’d been blasted ten meters away.

With a thunderous roar, the scaled warrior staggered upright. Though he’d landed several blows during their exchange, Midi’s final Mountain Shatter had crushed his chest armor.

This strike felt less like a sword slash and more like a battering ram’s impact.

The Lizardman’s breastplate crumpled inward, while alarming amounts of blood seeped through from behind.

Midi’s attack had clearly shattered his defense.

Internal agony and metallic blood flooding his throat shocked the Lizardman – he couldn’t believe a human had knocked him airborne with that toothpick-like sword.

Unlike the gasping audience, he had no time for contemplation.

His opponent remained before him. Whether strong or strange, the Lizardman had to keep fighting.

Until one of them fell.

Shoving aside doubts and fear, the Lizardman roared and charged again.

His Vitality erupted through his veins.

Skills activated in rapid succession – Iron Bones, Body Dominance, Weak Point Perception.

As he neared Midi, he accelerated suddenly and launched a flying kick.

Composite Skill: God of War Step and Whirlwind Leg!

God of War Step converted a Fighter’s speed into attack power, while Whirlwind Leg delivered relentless strikes. Combined, they created a storm-like barrage.

The Lizardman’s version added his thick tail to the assault.

But such frenzy carried flaws.

The wild attacks lacked precision – even with Weak Point Perception, they moved too slowly against swift opponents.

Normally, Midi would evade with Demon Shadow Flash, counter with long-range attacks, then strike during recovery. Not today.

Against the charging Lizardman, Midi stood firm. His dual swords blazed as sword light and blood energy surged around him.

From afar, he resembled a waking Behemoth – jaws gaping to Consume the Lizardman whole.

No tests. No circling. The battle exploded into frenzy instantly.

Fist strikes fell like hammering rain, sparking explosive bursts in the air.

Blade flashes sliced like winter lightning, leaving trails of cold light.

Both abandoned defense, trading brutal blows while dealing maximum damage.

This reckless, bone-crunching duel captivated the stands.

Human and Lizardman collided like mismatched boulders, each impact spraying sparks.

Ten violent exchanges passed in moments.

Blood streaked Midi’s body. The Lizardman’s wounds gaped, revealing white bone beneath torn flesh.

No fatal wounds yet. The battle raged on.

Suddenly, the Lizardman pulled back his fists and rammed forward shoulder-first.

Fighter skill: Iron Mountain Assault!

Compared to the barrage of fists, this single concentrated attack clearly held overwhelming dominance.

Yet Midi had anticipated the Lizardman’s brute-force move. As the reptilian opponent descended like a collapsing mountain, cold determination flashed in Midi’s starry black eyes. He combined his dual swords and slashed downward.

Berserker skill: Mountain-Sundering Strike!

The Fighter’s deadliest technique clashed against the Berserker’s most devastating skill. Which would prevail?

The answer came instantly.

Midi was forced backward.

Though still standing, the impact of Iron Mountain Assault swept him away like a sliding ice block. Even digging his heels into the ground only carved twin trenches in the earth as he skidded.

Meanwhile, the Lizardman flew sideways like a cannonball before being torn apart mid-air. Viscera and flesh fragments showered the battleground, the coppery stench of blood flooding the arena.

Midi had slain his foe with Mountain-Sundering Strike.

Then used Sword Soul’s Breaking Army Rising Strike to both withstand Iron Mountain’s force and repel his attacker.

All while enduring the relentless fist barrage.

This marked a new achievement even for the veteran warrior.

With heavy thuds, the Lizardman’s bisected corpse struck the arena wall before sliding down like pulped fruit, leaving crimson streaks.

Dark Magic’s hum vanished. Weapon clangs ceased. Even the crowd fell silent.

Midi separated his blades with a sharp flick, shedding blood from their edges until they gleamed anew.

He sheathed the swords with practiced ease, freed his boots from the torn earth, and strode to the arena’s heart.

"Outcome?" Midi demanded, gazing upward.

"Outcome? Right, outcome!" The dazed dark elf blinked at him before declaring, "Human wins! Clear the field!"

"Not ‘human’ – Midi Asreks." The correction came calmly.

He waved to stunned priestess Galantis in the stands, removing and tossing his swords to her.

"Hold these again. It won’t be long."

His exit left only bloodstains and shattered expectations, dark elves gaping at where the "frail human" had stood.