Chapter 57 — Inevitable Clash
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Every part of Mastrile's eyes went white immediately as the remaining parts of his body dropped dead to the floor with a dull thud.
He couldn't think... He wasn't even spared a second; it was a straight death... And it was after his body landed on the floor that the cutting sound of the air caused by the axe reached his ear, slicing through the silence a moment too late.
If the ancient scriptures are indeed real, on the day of tribulation... Mastrile will be shown how he died... A Gladiator who died a coward...
Even he will laugh it out, because that was actually the best death for him, as all his behavior had portrayed him as a coward...
Jumping from one allegiance to another in order to survive...
Serving Nicollo and then Socrates before moving on to Merkules... Even the direction he was running to... It has a meaning...
But Socrates paid no attention to him... He planned to retrieve his axe later as he brandished the other one, then swiftly turned to the last person whose heart had completely shattered due to what he had just witnessed...
Merkules...
If this man would have had a glimpse that a day like this would come, he would have spared no effort in killing Socrates... Taking his life when he was nothing—a nobody... He's the Sky Pavilion champion; nobody would hold him accountable for it... He might just be punished, but it's just punishment. But then he had seen Socrates as nothing more than trash...
Something beneath his attention... He had never predicted this day... If not, he wouldn't have crossed this man...
But only if he knew that what he did to Socrates... although bad, played a crucial role in the life of Socrates... At first, it seemed evil...
But that defeat, that pure thrashing... That was the drive Socrates needed at that moment... The drive that caused him to grow stronger...
Thus... This is the art of cause and effect...
But even if it later helped Socrates in the long run... Does this mean the son of Trueblood should forgive him?
What if he had helped Socrates train... With the boy's talent... wouldn't he still reach greater heights?
A debt is a debt... And every debt must be repaid... No matter what... Merkules is paying his debt today, and Socrates is the collector of that debt.
Running is futile... Standing there means waiting for death...
Merkules knew that the only option left for him is to fight, and that is exactly what he'll do...
He's no weakling like Pavliox, nor is he a coward like Mastrile...
He's a Gladiator... A true Gladiator...
Someone who is the champion of the Sky Pavilion branch of the Northern Gladiator Guild.
The title of champion is no joke, and Merkules is going to prove it to Socrates.
The air around him turned icy as he raised his sword up the moment he caught a glimpse of Socrates launching an attack, frost forming faintly along the blade.
"SEA MOUNTAIN ART — FIRST WAVE AND STRIKE."
Blue bubbles expanded in the form of portals, appearing in the air behind Merkules as shrapnels of condensed sea came out of them, all rushing towards Socrates, who didn't even flinch...
The sea of shrapnels didn't even stop his momentum at all as he traversed through them as if they were never there, the fragments slicing past him, and appeared right before Merkules with a vertical swing.
Merkules deflected the attack with his energy-coated blade and unleashed the hidden effect of the blade, which caused ice energy to erupt as it enveloped Socrates' axe, extending to his arm and reaching his shoulder, crackling with frost.
'Yes... The perfect chance to attack...' Merkules wouldn't let go of this opportunity as he brandished his sword for an attack... An attack that would hit Socrates' vital point, as Socrates' weapon and his limb had been frozen...
But what Merkules seemed to have forgotten was how fast Socrates is—and the fact that humans have four limbs...
This should have happened in two ways, and those two ways would have the same outcome...
One—Merkules would stay in position and allow the ice energy to freeze every part of Socrates' body. But the freezing isn't at once; it's a gradual process which will take seconds, and in those seconds, Socrates would have found a way to release himself.
The second—and which Merkules did—was as Socrates' limb was frozen and the effect was going to his chest, he pulled out the sword and brandished it to his chest. That pulling it out stopped the effect of the ice energy, and at that instant, Socrates instinctively raised his leg, launching a kick which connected with the blade of Merkules...
The force of the kick drove Merkules' own blade into his body as his body was sent propelling backward in the air, the blade impaled in his chest, freezing him all the way from the chest to every part of his body, ice spreading rapidly like veins.
After some seconds, gravity took its course, and Merkules crashed on the ground with his icy body, which scattered into pieces with a brittle, shattering sound...
And that was how the Champion of the Sky Pavilion died by his own sword...
Though it was due to the kick of Socrates... The Son of Trueblood didn't hold back at all when launching that kick, as his life was on the line... The leg... The leg that succeeded in breaking a boulder—and that same leg, he had used to cause the death of a mid-stage Qi Condensation cultivator...
And that was the end of the chapter for Merkules... The Gladiator who had fought valiantly for his life...
The ice on Socrates' arm melted, but the one that wrapped his battle axe melted along with the weapon...
Socrates watched as the weapon melted in front of him... His eyes burned in fury as he stared at the remnants of Merkules...
This battle axe was passed down to him by Mr. Jaggers...
Now he had lost one...
And the cause of it was already dead...
No one he could pin the blame on...
'The second one... I've to treasure that one...'
Socrates turned around and headed towards the dead body of Mastrile, but then he couldn't find the axe anymore.
"What?" His eyes sharpened as his senses grew on high alert... He knew for sure that he wasn't alone...
"Who's there?" He asked in a low tone, and then out of the shadows came a figure...
A male silhouette whose height was a little taller than a dwarf, dragging Socrates' axe behind him, the metal scraping faintly against the ground.
"Boy... With a broken meridian, you're able to kill 3 cultivators at once... Give up your treasure, and I won't kill you..." The silhouette chuckled as he used his free hand to caress his goatee while his blue robe flayed in the night wind.
"Elder Fotio of the Sky Pavilion..." Socrates whispered, and then the silhouette chuckled...
"Yes, yes... That's me... Don't worry, once you give me the treasure... I'll cover up for the mess you caused here..."
"I've no treasure to give you... And just so you know... It happens I've been looking for you..." Socrates' eyes flashed with killing intent as he stared at the Elder who almost claimed his life...
"Because you killed three rats... You thought you could defeat me... I'm done being merciful... I'll dig up the treasures from your dead body." Elder Fotio replied as his spiritual energy tore out into the air, pressing heavily on the surroundings...
Obsidian eyes and ocean blue eyes met together...
The ground cracked...
The air rippled...
And the inevitable clash had just begun...