表妺好紧居然流水了

Chapter 399 Chapter 91.7 - Duels [2]

One could put everything they had into one thing, yet they might still never reach the heights that those who didn\'t even put half of the effort into the same thing.

It was not rewarding.

Not fair.

Justice didn\'t exist.

It was a place where only the strong ate the weak. If you were the winner, no matter what, your traces would remain.

No one would remember the losers.

That was what he realized.

\'Hero Butcherer.\'

Therefore, he didn\'t care if the person before him was bound to become a villain or not. People had reasons, and from his perspective, Vincent had the right to become one.

Even after learning what happened to his brother, the world still sided with Middleton\'s.

In the end, it was Vincent\'s family that perished in the confrontation.

Just like himself.

Just like himself, who lost his life trying to protect Ethan, the only person who could save everyone, to protect the world.

He fought bravely, without any selfishness, and perished in the end like a hero.

Yet, what happened afterward? Did his legacy remain?

That demon showed him. And the answer was clear.

A built statue in the middle of a street. A small place in a museum. In some books, writing history.

But, in those same books, every time, he was never remembered since the people on the front were not him.

Ethan, Julia, Victor, Sylvie, Irina…..The list went on since they were the final party that defeated the last threat.

But what about him?

No one.

The June 22nd was dedicated to him as the hero. Yet, what happened afterward?

In just five years, the whole month itself was declared for another group. A newly emerging group who had migrated from their hometown to the Human Domain.

Demi humans.

With their mitigation to society, the whole month of June was dedicated to the hardships they had encountered, as well as the discrimination that they faced.

To celebrate the rights that they painstakingly got from human society. Everyone

Or was what truly how it was?

Yet, eventually, nobody remembered those who made the peace possible in the end. Those who bravely fought.

Their names were forgotten.

The respect, the honor….It was no longer there.

That was then, Lucas himself realized. It was all pointless.

As long as you don\'t win. As long as people don\'t directly engrave themselves into the books of history, they will not be remembered. They would just live and then die. That was it.

Thus, he made a pledge to himself. This time, things wouldn\'t be the same.

SWOOSH!

Lucas felt the ground tremble as Vincent\'s axe descended with incredible force.

\'Yeah, it seems I am not allowed to think for now.\'

Even if he could beat Vincent easily, for the sake of the performance he wanted to show, he decided to cut his own thoughts off.

\'Earth\'s Cry.\'

He muttered the name of the attack.

He had seen this move before, and he knew exactly how to counter it. With a swift movement, Lucas shifted his stance and executed the [Sword of Middleton. 4th stage. Phantom Step,] a technique that allowed him to dodge the attack with a blur of motion.

It was something that was hardly achieved, something that not everyone could achieve. He was sure that Julia hadn\'t achieved the first stage yet.

\'!\'

Vincent\'s eyes were wide open at the blur of movements since he knew the essence of it.

The axe slammed into the ground, creating a shockwave that rippled through the arena. Dust and debris flew into the air, momentarily obscuring the view. But Lucas was already moving, his sword gleaming as he unleashed [Sword of Middleton. 4th stage. Mirror Blades].

The blade seemed to multiply, creating afterimages that confused Vincent\'s senses.

Vincent roared in frustration, swinging his axe wildly in an attempt to hit one of the elusive images. Lucas used this opportunity to close the distance, his eyes locked on Vincent\'s exposed side. He launched [Blade\'s Impetus], a rapid thrust aimed at Vincent\'s ribs.

CLANG!

Vincent managed to bring his axe around just in time to block the attack, but the force of the collision sent him stumbling backward. Lucas pressed his advantage, transitioning seamlessly into [Whirlwind Slash]. His sword spun in a deadly arc, aiming to overwhelm Vincent with speed and precision.

CLANK! CLANK!

Vincent gritted his teeth and dug his heels into the ground, his muscles straining as he blocked each strike. His eyes blazed with anger and determination.

"Tsk."

He hated this to the core. The way Middleton\'s fought. They always tried to distract the enemy and focused on speed.

It was nauseating since he remembered the amount of sword strikes that was left on his brother\'s body.

"You think you can defeat me with those flashy moves?" he growled, summoning his mana and channeling it into his axe.

With a roar, Vincent unleashed the skill he had developed on his own. Maybe his family wasn\'t something as big as Middleton\'s, but that didn\'t mean his rank was a joke.

[Berserker\'s Wrath] – a powerful combination of swings that was imbued with raw energy. The axe cleaved through the air with terrifying speed, aimed directly at Lucas\'s head.

The crowd gasped and cheered, their excitement growing with each exchange. The duel had become a spectacle of skill and power, a testament to the prowess of both combatants.

Vincent\'s rage-fueled his movements as he swung his axe with relentless power. Each strike carried the force of his mana, making it almost impossible for anyone to withstand for long.

Of course, from the outside, it would look like Vincent was on the losing end since he used his berserk skill this early. But in fact, there was something that not many people knew about Vincent.

The reason why he was able to hunt such strong monsters, or how he attained his rank in the entrance exam.

The reason why he could go against a rank-5 or rank-6 boss while being two ranks lower than them.

It was because of his strongest skill, the trump card, that nobody would expect.

[Guillotine of Blood].

This skill. Once he stacked five strikes on his enemy, he would be able to control the enemy\'s bleeding. With the resonating bleeding, his strength would double.

And the conditions for the execution would appear.

Complete Execution.

He was determined to unleash this special skill and end the fight decisively.

Lucas, however, was calm and composed. He had seen Vincent\'s techniques before and knew exactly what he was planning.

Each strike aimed at him was carefully calculated to build up the [Hemorrhage] stacks required for Vincent\'s devastating finishing move.

In a way, Vincent\'s kit of abilities made him such a formidable opponent, even though his stats were lower than those of his enemies.

Since the [Berserker\'s Wrath] was a couple of buffed attacks that would easily amplify [Hemorrhage] to his opponent while also hiding his intentions more easily.

SWOOSH! Vincent\'s first strike came crashing down, and Lucas sidestepped, allowing the blade to graze his arm. Blood trickled from the shallow cut, and the first stack of [Hemorrhage] was applied.

\'One.\' The second strike was a sweeping horizontal slash. Lucas deflected it with his sword but allowed it to nick his side, adding a second stack.

\'Two.\' Vincent\'s eyes gleamed with anticipation. He could feel the momentum shifting in his favor. His third strike was a diagonal slash that Lucas narrowly avoided, but not without earning another cut and a third stack.

\'Three.\' Lucas was fully aware of what Vincent was doing. He was letting Vincent believe he was gaining the upper hand, all while conserving his own strength and waiting for the perfect moment to strike back.

The fourth strike came with even more ferocity. Vincent aimed for Lucas\'s legs, hoping to cripple him. Lucas let the blade scrape against his thigh, adding the fourth stack. The crowd gasped at the blood now staining Lucas\'s clothes, unaware of the strategy at play.

\'Four.\' Vincent\'s confidence soared. He raised his axe high, ready to deliver the fifth and final strike needed to activate [Guillotine of Blood].

"Heh….It seems you are nothing after all."

His eyes were filled with the certainty of his imminent victory.

It was the same as the crowd.

"Lucas Middleton is losing?"

"Wasn\'t he pushing Vincent? How come the tables have turned?"

"It seems the Middletons are going to lose this time. What a pity. I am pretty sure Julia Middleton would win against him."

"Of course, Julia would win. Did you not see how she fought in the Blackthorn\'s Banquet?"

"Right, she was there at that time."

The opinion of the crowds changed, but one thing was clear. Everyone clearly thought that Lucas was losing and that he was being a disgrace.

SWOOSH! However, contrary to what the logical conclusion was, those who knew Lucas and the real Middletons felt differently.

\'Lucas. You have improved.\'

Especially in the case of the white-haired man watching the fight.

\'You even stepped into the Illusion Realm.\' Just as the axe descended, Lucas\'s body suddenly blurred. Vincent\'s axe cleaved through the air, hitting nothing but an afterimage. The Lucas he had been targeting shattered like glass, disappearing before his eyes.

SWOOSH! "What?"

Vincent\'s eyes widened in shock. He barely had time to register what was happening before he felt a sharp pain in his legs.

SLASH! THUD! Lucas\'s blade had already found its mark, slashing through Vincent\'s leg joints with precise strikes. Vincent cried out in pain as his legs gave way, and he fell to his knees.

Before Vincent could react, Lucas\'s blade was at his throat. The cold steel pressed against his skin, and he realized with a sinking feeling that he had been thoroughly outplayed. Lucas had seen through his intentions from the very beginning and had manipulated the fight to this moment.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as the once-mighty Vincent Hale knelt before Lucas Middleton, defeated. The duel had been a masterful display of strategy and skill, and Lucas\'s victory was undeniable.

"Yield."

Vincent, breathing heavily and with pain etched across his face, looked hatefully into Lucas\' eyes.

But there was nothing he could do. Instead of acting like a crybaby, it was always better to accept the result like a man.

"I yield."