đźź Chapter 67:
🟧 Haizen's POV:
I wasn't very confident in my ability to deal with this man, yet I still told Takeru to leave and let me handle him. There was simply no other option—I had to find some way to defeat him.
The moment Takeru and that prince were gone, Number Three's expression twisted with rage. He clenched his fists tightly, his voice trembling with frustration:
"I can't believe this… This is the second time I've failed against you. All because I underestimated you. From now on, I'll fight you with everything I have."
In terms of raw strength, I was superior. But once he reinforced himself with mana, the advantage shifted entirely to him. He launched forward with explosive force, shattering the floor beneath him. I needed utmost precision to deal with an attack like that.
As soon as he approached, I jumped above him and aimed my blade at his neck—but he grabbed my leg in midair and slammed me into the ground again and again, blood scattering everywhere. Even for someone like me, the pain was unbearable. Before I could grasp the situation, he hurled me to the end of the corridor.
The moment I tried to get up, air blades struck my chest.
Ridiculous… I was supposed to be the one cutting him down, not the other way around. Even if I injured him, he could just heal himself.
He rushed toward me and threw a kick, but I dodged it at the last moment. His kick smashed through the wall entirely, sending debris falling from the third floor down to the ground outside.
Chaos reigned everywhere. Students had nowhere to hide; even the academy itself had become a dangerous place. Number Three didn't give me a second to breathe.
He kept attacking relentlessly, but I refused to stay on the defensive. I attempted to keep up with his movements, yet I couldn't land a strike. During my final attempt, he grabbed my sword directly.
His hand was dripping blood, but he didn't hesitate for a second. He began pulling the sword toward himself, as if testing which of us had the stronger grip.
The sword started slipping from my hands. Without it, I was done for.
So I used a crude, barbaric move—I head-butted him straight in the forehead, forcing him to stagger back.
He placed his fingers on his brow and found them stained with blood. A mocking grin formed on his lips as he looked at his hand.
"You swordsman really are something… you've got a crazy skull on you."
Before I could react, his fist shot toward my face. I dodged it and tried to stab his arm, but he pulled back at the last second.
This was bad. Takeru had left only moments ago, yet I was already in this condition. That monster wasn't joking when he said he'd get serious.
Even so, I needed to stay calm. It was time to use my final card.
The Shadow Style — my last hope of actually wounding this man.
Should I aim for his neck again? Or strike somewhere else?
I had tried before, but all I managed was a mere cut. With his mana reinforcement, his body had become too durable to slice through.
But… did that apply to all parts of his body?
There had to be some area he paid less attention to. I noticed his lower body was less reinforced. Yes, he had shattered a wall earlier with a kick, but there's a difference between reinforcing strength and reinforcing durability.
Still… nothing was certain. My analysis might be wrong. Maybe I was overthinking things.
Fine—I'll strike anywhere I can.
But before I could move, he attacked first. He smashed his foot into the floor, sending pieces of shattered stone flying at me. I dodged them—only to find him suddenly in front of me.
He grabbed my face and began squeezing with brutal force.
I must've looked helpless, but in truth, this was the perfect setup for my technique. Pain surged through me, but I forced myself to stay focused.
I inhaled deeply, then—
Cut.
With a movement he couldn't predict, using the Shadow Style, I severed his arm and escaped his crushing grip.
So he didn't have permanent reinforcement after all. That made sense—maintaining it nonstop probably drained his mana greatly.
He glared at me, furious.
"That annoying technique of yours… you're still using it."
He reached toward his severed arm, but I refused to give him time. I launched another attack, aiming at his other arm—yet this time, I failed to cut through.
Suddenly, he unleashed a burst of air blades in all directions.
Though it looked like an attack, he was using it as a defensive barrier long enough to regenerate his severed limb.
I avoided as many blades as I could, but several still struck me.
Number Three took full advantage of the moment—his arm had fully healed.
Despite everything I had done, his body was in excellent condition. His air blades still spun around him like a miniature tornado. Dust filled the corridor until vision became nearly impossible, but I could hear his footsteps growing closer.
I didn't wait for him to attack. I dashed toward him, trying to use the dust for cover. My sword struck his chest—
A loud metallic clang echoed.
It was like hitting a steel shield, not human flesh.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
He stepped back slightly, and that faint smirk appeared again—the look of someone who believed he had already won.
"At first, I thought you were just another arrogant swordsman. But I must admit—you're making this fun."
I didn't respond. I lunged again with everything I had left.
My blade flashed five times in rapid succession, each slash targeting a different angle—but Number Three blocked all of them with a single hand.
His speed wasn't the issue.
His precision was.
He knew exactly where my next strike would land, as if he were reading my thoughts.
Before I could regain my footing, a sudden kick hit me from the side, slamming me into the cracked wall. The air burst from my lungs, but I forced myself to stand.
"You're still standing? Stubbornness or madness?" he asked as he approached.
I tightened my grip on my sword, blood dripping down my face and chest.
"Both… stubbornness and madness."
I ran toward him, attempting the Shadow Style again—
But my body failed me. I had drained too much mana. I couldn't execute it. I had to wait for my energy to recharge naturally.
I tried to fool him with a frontal attack then shift behind him, but his arm snapped backward with inhuman speed, grabbing me by the throat.
"Enough playing."
His voice was low, but filled with seething anger.
The air around me felt like it was disappearing. I tried to stab his arm, but my body wouldn't move—it was like I had lost control entirely.
"You're strong… but you're not ready to face someone like me."
He lifted me by the neck until my feet hung in the air. Behind me, the shattered wall opened to the academy's outer courtyard. I glimpsed the gray sky and the debris falling from above.
He was about to throw me off the building.
The wind whipped against my face, blood dripping from my mouth.
Number Three stared coldly into my eyes.
Falling wouldn't kill me—probably—but it would leave me in terrible shape.
"I can't believe this… this person is a monster…" I muttered weakly, staring at the sky. I wasn't even close to being his equal.
And the moment he loosened his grip and I began to fall—
Number Three was suddenly crushed under the gravity of another ability-user.