CHAPTER 90: THREE MOVES? WHO SAID THAT?

But this time, Micha’el wasn’t showing off his speed.

No, now he wanted to make a point- this was about raw power.

He leapt into the air and activated his fighting aura, a bluish glow erupting around his body like a storm in motion. The pressure that followed struck the crowd like an invisible wave. It felt like a giant hand had seized the air itself, making it hard to breathe or even move for those with weaker wills.

The closer you were to him, the heavier the pressure became.

If it had been anyone else standing across from him, they might have frozen in place- paralyzed by the sheer dominance radiating from Micha’el’s overwhelming aura.

But Auren wasn’t just anyone.

He had clashed with Vulkris- a King Beast wreathed in flame, death, and ancient fury.

That monster’s mere presence alone had threatened to burn his soul to ash.

Compared to that?

Micha’el’s aura felt like a child flailing around with a burning stick.

Auren on the other hand was silently judging him while narrowed his gaze.

His instincts sharpening as Micha’el’s fighting style unraveled before him. Simple patterns. Predictable momentum. Openings begging to be punished.

’His swings are too wide. His rhythm’s are fast but easy to read. Even his killing intent is like a loud amplifier declaring his next move. I can’t beleive this is the so-called prodigy everyone’s super hyped about?’

Forget the dramatic "three-move finish."

Micha’el could try a hundred times, and still his blade wouldn’t land clean. Auren’s defense wasn’t flashy- but it was efficient. Every block and dodge felt like he was one page ahead in a book Micha’el hadn’t finished reading.

CLANG!

SWOSH

CLANG!

DODGE

CLANG!

Steel rang like a metronome of disappointment coupled with swift passing movements.

From the outside, it looks like Micha’el was the child and Auren was the adult in a young man’s body.

’This can’t be happening... How is he reading all my moves?’

Micha’el panicked, frustration creeping into his strikes.

Beads of sweat gathered on his brow. His shoulders tensed. His grip faltered.

And worst of all- he could feel it.

’This shameful stare.... I hate it!’

The eyes of his kin.

The silent judgment in their stares.

It all fells like daggers of dissapointment landing all over his body.

’No... I can’t let them see me like this. I need to break through- anything!’

Desperation slowly took hold, poisoning his technique.

Meanwhile, Auren didn’t even bother showing strain. He focused on his breathing. Kept his stance compact. Dodged only when needed. Parried only when necessary.

Every move had a reason, every step a purpose.

"He’s strong, sure... but this is still within my comfort zone,"

Auren mused, pivoting to the side once again.

"Even Robert’s sneak attacks during our practice duels were harder than this... And that dude was even a Herbalist!"

Then Micha’el screamed out of his frustration.

"AAAHHHH!!"

His greatsword crashed downward like a meteor, carrying all his might, pride, and rage.

SHHI-BOOM!

A final blow meant to overwhelm and end everything in a single clash. The crushing aura behind it roared out- intended to stun and to terrify his agile target.

But Auren didn’t even blink.

From the sidelines, Rhiki clicked his tongue.

"Tsk. Idiot," he muttered.

"You don’t try to scare someone who’s faced down Vulkris with a knock-off intimidation gimmick."

And sure enough, Auren shifted sideways just in time- clean, simple, and effective.

He avoided not only the sword but also the wind wave that tore into the platform behind him, leaving a jagged trench after.

Micha’el’s eyes twitched.

"How?!"

Micha’el barked, eyes wide with disbelief.

Auren just grinned, lifting two fingers in a playful peace sign.

"Just lucky!" he said, cheeky as ever.

His cheeky smile and the followed chuckle from his own kin?

That was the last straw.

"THAT’S IT!"

Micha’el snapped, his composure cracking like dry wood.

"You better run now while you still have time!"

[CRIMSON WINDFLOW]

His aura flared violently- this time shifting from calm blue to a deep, seething red.

The temperature around them spiked in an instant. The ground beneath his feet sizzled. This wasn’t just battle spirit anymore- it was raw, unfiltered bloodlust.

"I’m done being friendly with a freak," he growled through clenched teeth, his voice low and trembling with fury.

Veins bulged across his arms and neck, glowing faintly under his skin. A visible heatwave pulsed from his body, warping the air around him like a mirage. His killing intent exploded outward like a crashing tide.

On the sidelines, Rhiki’s grin widened.

"There it is," he muttered, eyes gleaming. "Now this is getting more interesting..."

From the crowd, nervous murmurs rippled.

"Oh no..." one elf said, clutching her chest.

"Isn’t that his strongest body enhancement skill?!"

"I heard his power, speed and reaction speed more than doubles in that state!"

"I wonder what’s the cost for that..."

The atmosphere changed completely. Gone was the playful sparring match- what stood now was a battle teetering on the edge of real danger.

And Auren?

He just rolled his shoulders and stood calmly, completely unfazed.

’Its that kind of stage huh... guess we have to get more serious from now on...’

Outside the platform, the elves are starting a commotion,

"Somebody prepare the healers- now!"

"I’m not sure this spar is even safe anymore..."

But Rhiki held out a hand to silence them.

"Stop insulting me. Why do you think I’m still here?"

But deep inside, he knew even he might be a few seconds too slow if this went sideways. Micha’el’s killing aura was real. And dangerous.

Jaira’s voice rang out, panicked. "Auren, just surrender! It’s not worth it- he’s gone berserk!"

But Auren didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. But deep inside, he knew that his casual moves wont work anymore.

Micha’el charged again, sword raised high while the pupils in his eyes are now gone -obviously he is now in the realm of madness.

’Alright, I clearly triggered something out of his giant ego... We should probably end this now.’ Auren’s instincts screamed at him as he took several steps back, putting space between them.

His body remained loose, but his grip tightened on his blade.

The red-aura demon that was once Micha’el lunged forward with terrifying power.

Each swing came with enough force to cleave the stone floor- and yet Auren dodged them one after another like a maddening mosquito.

"Mamamia~"

He dipped, ducked, rolled, parried, and sometimes even just flat-out ran.

"Crazy! This bastard’s totally unhinged! He is surely after my neck!" Auren muttered under his breath, trying to stay alive.

He shouted toward Rhiki. "Hey, strong man! Any help here?! This guy’s clearly lost it!"

Rhiki just smirked from the sidelines and gave no reply.

Judging from his wide sadistic smile, he is clearly enjoying it.