CHAPTER 103: CH 103: THE CLASH- PART 1

King Gorgon’s heavy spear attacks proved to be more of a problem than Fenrir anticipated.

Each strike came with precision and weight, just fast enough to interrupt Fenrir’s offense and sharp enough to keep him on the defensive.

What made it even more troublesome was that Gorgon seemed to be doing it all without much thought—his body moved with instinct, as if battle was second nature to him.

Every time Fenrir tried to go on the offensive, the tip of Gorgon’s spear would intercept his movement, forcing him to reposition or back away.

His usual tactic of overpowering his opponents wouldn’t work here.

Around them, the guards who had previously fallen or retreated began regaining their strength.

Some of them pulled themselves up using their weapons, others leaned against the buildings for support. Their faces lit up with hope when they saw their king holding his own.

"Long live the king!"

"You can do it, Your Majesty!"

Their cheers echoed through the plaza.

King Gorgon hesitated for just a second, glancing over his shoulder to shout.

"Get out of here, fools! Don’t stand around like this!"

That was the opening Fenrir needed.

He surged forward, mana wrapping around his body.

His sword came crashing down with a blow that knocked King Gorgon back several feet, forcing him to slide across the cracked pavement.

Gorgon stabbed his spear into the ground to stop himself, glaring at Fenrir with visible irritation.

"You coward. Using a distraction to land a blow... You call that a fair fight?""

Gorgon spat.

Fenrir adjusted his grip on the sword, not bothered in the slightest.

"There’s no fairness in battle. If you want an honorable duel, go play games. This is a war, and in war, winning is the only thing that matters."

Even as Fenrir said that, exhaustion began to settle inside his body.

Gorgon’s eyes narrowed. His brows drew together as his mana surged, spiking so suddenly that the air felt heavy with pressure.

The tip of his spear began to glow, dense with energy.

"...You’ve lasted longer than most. For that, I respect you. But this ends now.""

Gorgon said, voice low and steady.

The mana in the spear pulsed, bright and dangerous.

It crackled with power, the ground beneath them trembling under the force of his technique. Gorgon raised his spear high and brought it down with full force.

Fenrir’s instincts screamed at him to dodge, but he knew better. This attack was not one he could evade.

The reach, the speed, and the mana behind it—no matter what angle he took, it would find him. So he did the only thing he could.

"System, focus all remaining mana into defense. Reinforce shield, full barrier!"

A pulse of energy responded as the system obeyed.

Earth shot up around him, forming a dense layer between him and the oncoming strike.

As Gorgon’s spear collided with Fenrir’s barrier, the resulting explosion shattered the ground.

Dust and smoke filled the plaza. The sound was deafening.

Nearby guards who were too close to the impact zone were thrown off their feet, some slammed into walls, others knocked unconscious. Debris rained down in every direction.

For a few seconds, everything was still.

And then the dust began to clear.

Fenrir stood there, unmoved, shield shimmering faintly in front of him. His cloak fluttered slightly from the aftershock. Moving felt difficult but he forced himself to keep standing.

Across from him, King Gorgon’s spear was embedded in the ground, and he stared at Fenrir with something akin to disbelief.

"...You’re still standing."

Gorgon said, voice low.

Fenrir didn’t say anything. He simply exhaled slowly, still gripping his weapon, ready for the next strike.

Then Gorgon laughed. A deep, incredulous sound.

"You blocked that."

He pulled his spear out of the ground and leaned it over his shoulder.

"I have to admit, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you could take that head-on."

Fenrir remained silent, watching.

"But, as much as I respect you... that doesn’t mean we can be friends."

Gorgon continued, the amusement in his voice fading into something heavier.

Fenrir tilted his head slightly, watching King Gorgon with narrowed eyes.

"Why’d you say we can’t be friends?"

King Gorgon paused mid-step, his expression suddenly unreadable.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood still for a long second, face scrunched up in deep thought, as if he were seriously trying to find the words.

Finally, he replied with a shrug.

"I... don’t know. But I know we can’t be friends."

Fenrir blinked.

"That’s not much of a reason."

"It’s a feeling. Something about you doesn’t sit right with me."

Gorgon said, frowning now.

Fenrir resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

’So he doesn’t know why? Is he unconsciously feeling threatened by me?’

He glanced at the guards lingering on the edges of the ruined plaza—still cautious, still afraid, but clearly placing all their faith in their king.

The more Fenrir observed Gorgon, the more he realized something wasn’t quite right. The man was powerful, no doubt about it.

His instincts, battle technique, and raw mana output made him a serious threat—but he also felt... simple. Too simple.

’This guy is all muscle and impulse. There’s no way someone like him is running this floor entirely on his own. There must be another force pulling the strings.’

Fenrir thought.

That realization didn’t change anything.

Fenrir was still seen as an intruder. Still the enemy.

But it did give him a possible route forward. A way to push through without having to kill King Gorgon. And perhaps, more importantly, a way to gain some leverage.

Fenrir lowered his sword just slightly, enough to signal he wasn’t about to attack.

"Let’s make this more interesting."

King Gorgon raised an eyebrow.

"Go on."

"I propose a match. A clean duel. Winner gets the loser as a subordinate."

Fenrir said.

Gorgon’s eyes narrowed instantly.

"No."

"Why not?"

Fenrir asked.

"It’s ridiculous. I don’t become anyone’s subordinate."

Gorgon scoffed.

"Sounds like you’re scared."

Fenrir said, completely deadpan.

Gorgon’s jaw tightened.

"What did you just say?"

"I said...you’re a coward."

Fenrir replied, louder this time.

The king looked genuinely shocked for a moment, then his face contorted with rage.

"This is not allowed! You don’t get to insult the King of the First Floor!"

"Didn’t say I had to follow your rules. Coward."

Fenrir muttered. He raised a brow and added with a bored expression.

Gasps echoed from the surrounding soldiers.

"You—! You dare—! Fine! I accept!"

Gorgon was trembling with fury now, his hand gripping the shaft of his spear tightly.

A chorus of

"Your Majesty, wait—!"

Came from behind him, but Gorgon didn’t listen. His pride was burning far too bright now.

"I only agree because I will win! I will defeat you, and then you will serve me! I am not a coward!"

He declared, pointing his spear directly at Fenrir.

Fenrir just smiled faintly behind his mask.

"We’ll see."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Some tried again to persuade their king to reconsider.

"This is a bad idea—"

"Your Majesty, what if—"

"Silence! This is between him and me. I will not lose."

Gorgon barked.

Fenrir tapped his sword against his shoulder casually.

"Then prove it."

This time, the air between them was different.

No longer a clash between unknown enemies. Now it was a duel bound by pride, stakes, and the foolishness of a king who let himself be provoked too easily.

Fenrir didn’t care. All he needed was an opening, and Gorgon had given him one.