R-a - Volume 3 - Chapter 17 (Patreon)

R-a Chapter 175 (Live in editing - v1)

Sword techniques, styles, or Sword Arts, as they were often known, were considered very prestigious things.

On the face of it, such a concept might seem counter-intuitive. After all, in the reality of the 7 Layers and beyond, fantastic powers of terrifying prowess existed.

However, when it came to martial arts, all of the treasured sword, spear, and fist techniques contained far more than met the eye. The existence of Sword Energy, and all Weapon Energy in particular, is what led to this.

Micheal's growth in understanding when it came to Sword Mastery, just like his combat style, was fueled by his own rigorous study of the concept, as well as studying many, many different techniques.

For Micheal, this made perfect sense. If he wanted to completely understand something, he needed to look at it from all angles. His unending determination and confidence led him forward, keeping him placed firmly on the route of making steady progress.

To others, however, such a thought process evoked feelings of raw chaos. Such a haphazard line of thinking would lead one all over the place in one’s studies, without any set goal or limit. Unless one literally went on to look at almost every single conceivable angle, their studies would cast them astray with little progress.

Of course, Micheal did just that, and laid down an extremely solid foundation. However, other people simply couldn’t think and conceptualize in such a way.

Thus, most people that were trying to master the concept of Sword Mastery followed set guidelines and intensive studies, taught to them by a skilled master or guided by helping Type Abilities.

And Sword Arts were a key part of that, starting here on the Second, especially the high-level ones.

The Sword Style of the Sun and Moon was a complex Sword Art that started at the very bottom, with basic techniques and movements, and contained a full guide on how to progress. From specific ways to think about Sword Energy, to specific routes to move it and specific ways to express it, this particular Sword Art helped shape a generation of warriors, giving their attacks a unique style.

This was considered the norm for martial artists, especially here on the Second Layer and beyond. Most warriors stuck to certain, rigorous Sword Arts, Spear Arts, or Weapon Arts of some sort.

Micheal perfectly mimicked the stance of the approaching Torens. Not only did he physically stand exactly as they were, but he also manipulated the Ki in his body to focus slightly on his legs. The boost was very minimal due to the passive nature of Ki, not comparable to using a real boosting Ability, but instead a copy of what these Torens were doing.

He only held a single sword, instead of two like the attacking Torens, but he adapted his movements to account for that, tilting his sword-wielding arm forward while drawing his other hand close.

The Torens continued to move forward. By this point, their ring of warriors was mere meters from Micheal. Their encirclement carried forward with its ominous march, like a noose tightening around Micheal’s neck.

Finally, when it almost seemed as if the Torens would walk into Micheal before striking… they attacked.

As a single unit, all six Torens took a fast half step forward while raising their right arms up. They then slashed down hard with the sword in that right hand, while the blade in their left stabbed forward, piercing towards Micheal’s chest. Energy ripped about their swords, Intermediate Tier Sword Energy glistening.

The mass attack was executed with a level of skill that certainly showed off why these Torens were being recruited into a powerful Sect, the setting for this dreamworld.

Their coordinated blow slammed down directly where Micheal had been. This overhead strike from above combined with an eviscerating stab from below made a deadly combination, especially when used from 6 different angles at once.

A regular man would’ve died in an instant and even a powerful genius would’ve been left with no options.

Unfortunately for them, Micheal was far from a regular man, and far more than just a powerful genius.

When facing an attack like this, a coordinated blow that left no openings, Micheal instantly reached the correct decision.

If there weren’t any natural openings to take advantage of, he simply had to make them himself.

Micheal had adopted the first stance of the Sword Style of the Sun and Moon. Just before his enemies launched their attack, he shifted that stance into the second one.

Striding Lightning.

His legs seemed to vibrate as he kicked off of the ground, the concentrated power of his previous stance fueling an explosive leap of massive proportions. The stone beneath Micheal literally turned to dust as his body blurred into an extremely fast leap, breaking towards one of the encroaching Torens.

His abrupt attack did not take the Torens by surprise. Despite the fact that they had already begun their own attack, the warriors smoothly shifted their focus to stopping Micheal. Their blades twisted and turned, cutting right for his chest, back, and head.

Here, again, Micheal showed off control of his body and battle awareness that was simply unnatural.

Twelve blades slashed towards him… and all twelve of these blades missed.

Some of them missed by just a hair, while others swung out wide and far, coming nowhere close to him. It was as if Micheal’s body had turned to water, causing every attack that gunned for him to simply fail to connect.

A few of their stabs actually managed to make contact with him. However, instead of cutting into his flesh, they merely tore a few holes in the loose clothes he was wearing, completely failing to injure him. The rippling Sword Energy present in all of their attacks found no outlet, their carefully crafted plan ending in failure.

After their missed blows, the six well-trained Torens followed up their techniques with another coordinated assault. They didn’t let the miss shake their confidence, instead attempting to build up momentum as they charged forward and let loose.

If they had been given just a split second more time to recover, it was a very real possibility that they would’ve managed to skewer Micheal. After all, he was in a very disadvantageous position and they were all very skilled warriors for their age. While he might have managed to pull off a miracle once, pulling it off again and again would be difficult.

Micheal didn’t give them that split second.

In fact… the moment the first Toren swung his weapon, the fate of this group had been sealed.

Right after he dodged the group attack, his body ducking and waving in a series of ultra-fast movements, he attacked back.

His wooden sword slipped through the guard of one of the Torens and, without any build-up, knocked him completely unconscious in an instant.

With one of their group-members down, the defense of the team crumbled, and they were promptly beaten back in short order by Micheal. All six of the warriors were down in a matter of seconds, none of them individually able to hold a candle to Micheal’s skill.

It didn’t matter what numbers they came in, it didn’t matter how powerful they were. In the face of Micheal’s unbelievable prowess, the young Torens were unable to mount more than just an expression of resistance.

150 Toren bodies lay spread out on the ground, in random piles on the arena stage.

Apart from that one group of skilled Torens, all the other attackers had yet to do anything that caught Micheal’s attention. As he battled, however, he continued to adopt certain stances that he saw from the enemy, as if he had gained several tidbits of inspiration over the course of the large-scale duel.

Exhaustion had set into Micheal’s bones, true exhaustion that couldn’t be avoided. While he was winning this battle without a blemish to his record, he wasn’t able to sweep through everyone with pure ease.

Every second that he fought required intense focus and attention. He had to plan out each movement he made, he needed to expend substantial amounts of mental energy tracking his foes and keeping his mind sharp.

If he hesitated for even a split second, his weaker body would move too slowly to handle his enemies, and everything would fall apart.

This style of fighting was incredibly dangerous. If it was in the real world, Micheal would never have accepted such a risk. However, in this dreamworld, he was greatly limited in how much he could prepare, and had to make do with what he was given.

Micheal was running on his last legs and he knew it. Still, with a bit more than 50 enemies left standing, he didn’t show even a hint of weakness as he continued to fight off the Torens.

Blow after blow, strike after strike, the battle continued to walk towards its inevitable end.

Micheal settled into a type of rhythm. His movements became almost automatic as a haze of exhaustion settled onto his shoulders, one he wouldn’t have been able to shake if he tried. He was drawing on every bit of energy he could muster, to degrees unseen in any normal man.

200 Toren bodies hit the floor.

A small spark of relief burned in Micheal’s heart as he saw the pitiful number of enemies left. He was barely standing at this point, holding himself up with sheer willpower over anything else.

Behind him, the bodies of his enemies littered the arena floor.

His clothes had been torn and ripped to near shreds, but his body was completely uninjured. Not even a light scratch marred his white skin, a sight so absurd the Instructors watching off to the side could only shake their heads in amazement.

Micheal swung his blade a couple of times.

Several more Torens fell to the ground. By this point, the enemies left were mostly the stragglers that hadn’t bravely rushed forth. Most of them were weaker than the previous Torens, only fighting because they had to.

They weren’t cowards, but they simply knew they wouldn’t have been able to compete with the other Torens.

Finally, Micheal was left alone with one other Toren on the badly damaged arena grounds.

The Ascetic Morkel. The name was both a title and a name, representing the respect and power this Toren held.

The robed fighter studied Micheal with a calm gaze as he began to walk forward. The elite warrior had waited for everyone else to attack Micheal, watching every movement that Micheal made.

The elite final warrior of the normal King’s Challenge had, somehow, still ended up being the final wall to overcome.

Micheal’s lungs heaved, burning as if they had descended to the pits of hell as he recovered as much as possible, his sweat-soaked arms trembling as he raised them.

The Ascetic wielded only a single sword in his hand, a slim broadsword that he held out in front of him, ready to react to anything Micheal did. Strings of red, Advanced Tier Sword Energy could be seen, wrapped around the sword in powerful waves.

The Torens of this era were not yet full Deities. At this time, due to their own inborn deficiencies when it came to comprehension, even the best weren’t able to achieve a full understanding of the Master Tier of Sword Mastery.

To have achieved a basic understanding of Advanced Tier Sword Energy at this Toren’s age was an incredible achievement, especially given that Torens could live for hundreds of years, at the minimum.

Micheal’s gaze never wavered as he looked at the robed warrior. His breath gradually steadied as he zeroed in on his target, a sense of calmness overtaking him.

This was his final enemy.

Once he defeated him… he would have completed the challenge.

A small smile reappeared on Micheal’s face.

The Ascetic didn’t wait for Micheal to recover, nor did he try to talk or insult Micheal. Instead, he rushed in immediately. The powerful Toren had spent this entire time studying Micheal and waiting to find an opening to rush in for a surprise attack.

The entire battle thus far, however, Micheal had yet to display even a single opening. Morkel had spotted several feints, openings that weren’t actually openings at all, but ones that were so well disguised he almost struck and got caught.

As a result, he had been left unable to attack, and instead opted to wait for Micheal to wear down, spending that time trying to understand how Micheal fought. The end result: Micheal’s battle style was completely unpredictable and waiting to study that was a waste of time.

Now, however, was the opportune moment to strike. Everything was lined up in his favor and the situation could not be more unfavorable for Micheal.

The Ascetic’s eyes flickered as he prepared to leap forward, his eyes never leaving Michael for a-

Darkness.

A gasp of utterer confusion and outrage, as if life itself had betrayed him, escaped Morkel’s lips as he fell to the floor, knocked unconscious. The Toren didn’t even have a chance to attack as he collapsed, not even knowing how he was defeated.

In the moment that Morkel moved to attack, Micheal struck.

Once more, there was no opening to be found. So, Micheal had to create his own.

He imbued his sword with one final draw of Sword Energy and Ki, preparing the same strike he had used to knock all of the other Torens unconscious. He put everything he had into this one, holding back nothing as he went all out with his final attack.

Before Morkel even began to move, Micheal already knew he couldn’t let the warrior get close to him. Micheal was simply too tired, and the elite final enemy of the King’s Challenge was clearly too powerful.

So that just meant Micheal needed to launch his attack from afar.

And so he did.

He aimed his sword carefully, holding it out in front of him as if he was waiting for the Ascetic to attack. As he held it, however, he positioned it so that the point was placed directly towards Morkel’s eyes. This was a small trick that made the entire large sword seem like a small point in the Ascetic’s vision, tricking him into thinking it was small and staying still.

Normally, a trick like this would do little. As long as your foe kept his guard up, this type of tactic was ultimately useless and more or less a one-trick pony. As soon as they realized what you were doing, you could never get away with it again.

Fortunately for Micheal, he only needed this to work once.

All he did was thrust his sword forward in a single, stabbing motion. The Ascetic was around 6 meters distant, meaning such an attack was ultimately doomed if it wanted to reach the warrior. Micheal could’ve used his Impact Release Ability, but doing something like that would defeat the purpose of this entire battle.

Instead…

As soon as his arm reached the peak of its extension, stabbing forth with all of his might…

He detonated the Ki in his sword once more, causing it to explode internally.

Over the course of this battle, not only had Micheal used Advanced Tier Sword Energy extensively, he had also used his weapon over and over and over. It had taken a huge amount of damage, no matter how magically tough it was.

All of that added up, bit by bit, leaving it in a rather delicate state by the time the battle ran its course.

When Micheal gave it that final nudge, his sword was finally unable to hold up any longer…

It literally exploded in his hands.

And when it did explode, the tip of the sword shot forward, imbued with Advanced Tier Sword Energy and the vibrating Ki Energy that Micheal had left behind. This small chunk rocketed through the air, moving so quickly it was almost impossible to see.

The Ascetic Morkel had his guard up and was ready for anything.

Anything he could reasonably conceive.

An exploding sword used to attack from a distance was not one of those things.

Micheal’s sword tip may have been only a couple of inches long, but it was imbued with extremely pure Advanced Tier Sword Energy, enough to completely blow past Morkel’s guard and blast into one of the Toren’s pressure points.

And just like that…

The hidden master within the challengers, the elite warrior that had proven the downfall of even the toughest fighters that went up against the King’s Challenge in Micheal’s original life, collapsed to the floor without even a whimper.

Defeated.

Leaving one man to stand alone, surrounded by the bodies of his enemies.

Victorious.

A veil of silence covered the grounds as the onlooking Instructors remained mute, none of them able to offer up anything of note. Only the heavings of Micheal’s burning lungs sounded off in the air as he fell down on one knee, doing his best to not fall unconscious. His body was screaming at him, telling him he had overdrawn his stamina far, far too heavily.

Finally, after several seconds passed…

A familiar voice echoed out, cutting through the fog in Micheal’s mind. When Micheal heard this voice speak, even his fatigue couldn’t hold down the spark of vicious joy that formed.

“…How did you do that?”

.