Chapter 372
Seizing the moment Erigard made a wide horizontal slash with his sword, Desmond lowered his entire stance by going under the blade and directly into close quarters with Erigard.
Fighting at the ultra-close range was something Desmond was good at, reinforcing his hold in horse stance; Desmond transferred all the force generated by his advance through his legs.
Desmond’s stance struck Erigard as odd, but the holy knight had no chance to react as he saw Desmond’s right elbow shoot out with a ferocious momentum hitting him square in the center of his chest.
The sound of metal clashing reverberated throughout the training ground, and both Erigard and Desmond were forced back. Erigard was surprised by the strength displayed by Desmond’s blow, but nothing more; the smile on his face had not faded.
Desmond could understand the reason; he had felt it himself. Erigard’s armor directly absorbed almost all the force behind his blow; it was quite normal for the holy knight not to look perturbed.
But Desmond had never intended to hurt Erigard; no, he had always been looking to get some space. Desmond took advantage of the small respite. Burning mana particles flowed through his bloodstream, his heartbeat increased exponentially, and soon Desmond’s body was burning vast amounts of mana.
He was using fire mana’s intensity and explosive energy to strengthen physical abilities, such as the logic behind . With his physical skills amplified by several folds, Desmond seemed confident that he could deal with Erigard.
Desmond was about to pay the price for his trust. As soon as Desmond approached Erigard, it was as if Desmond’s new speed made no difference to the holy knight, who followed Desmond’s movements with ease.
.....
Then, Desmond discovered a terrifying fact; Erigard was even faster than him. Hundreds of tiny threads of radiant mana covered Erigard’s body, and he erupted with incredible momentum, landing a blow to Desmond’s chest.
Reflexively, Desmond coated the muscle fibers in his abdomen with metallic mana, and only then was he able to fully take Erigard’s blow without being seriously injured.
However, Erigard was not finished; that knock had been nothing more than a greeting, and Desmond knew it. Showing physical capabilities superior to Desmond’s, Erigard unleashed a barrage of sword strikes trying to turn Desmond into minced meat.
Desmond had to rely on his superior senses and vast combat experience to minimize his movement when dodging Erigard’s attacks. Thus using his martial superiority to counter Erigard’s physical superiority.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t a long-term measure, and Desmond knew it. To begin with, wasn’t an ability that could be sustained for long, and as soon as Desmond was unable to maintain using it, things could get dangerous.
However, Desmond still underestimated Erigard. The holy knight managed to find a gap in Desmond’s defense and swung his sword, seeking to rip that hateful smile from his enemy’s face.
It was at that moment that Desmond’s survival instincts betrayed him. Instinctively, Desmond had pulled back wide to avoid the cut that nearly split his skull in two, thus obtaining only a tiny scratch on the cheek.
But as soon as Desmond had pulled away, he knew that he had made a mistake, the same way Desmond was just looking for an opportunity to use an ability; Erigard had gotten just that by the time Desmond pulled away.
Soon a blade of ultra-condensed light shot out from Erigard’s sword, leaving behind a massive gash in the ground. Desmond had barely regained his stance when the colossal edge of radiant energy was already waiting for him a short distance away.
The ability used by Erigard not only seemed to hold terrifying power, but its speed was also not something that could be ignored, and now Desmond had to find a way to survive it.
Without time to think, Desmond ripped the still-sheathed sword he carried from his belt and held it in both arms in front of him as he channeled as much metallic mana as he could to strengthen the weapon.
Soon Desmond’s entire body felt the impact. His arms creaked, threatening to succumb to the pressure, his previously anchored feet leaving a trail of broken rock in its wake as Desmond’s entire body was continually pushed backward.
Heavy, the blade of radiant energy was incomparably heavy and dense, continually tearing at the mana invested by Desmond to defend himself.
Desmond’s body continued to be dragged, and soon his back hit a solid rock wall behind him. Desmond was unable to properly handle and distribute the load on his body at the moment of impact, so soon, several terrifying cracks arose within his body.
Desmond had his right arm dangling helplessly beside his body as his breathing became ragged by the time the blade faded. Fractures in the right wrist, tears in the right elbow joint, dislocated right shoulder, and several microfractures in the clavicle and sternum; Desmond had taken too much damage to his dominant arm.
Of course, Erigard jumped at the chance to humiliate Desmond and Cecilia when he saw that his victory seemed inevitable. “A mere stray dog ??really believed that he could oppose a holy knight? I guess dogs do look like their owners. Can you see Miss Cecilia? This is what happens when you are up against absolute power.”
It was only a split second, something that happened so fast that one would have to wonder if it was just his imagination, but Desmond’s instincts screamed on high alert in the face of a terrifying threat.
“She’s not a simple woman,” Desmond commented to himself.
That’s right, that terrifying pressure, that ominous feeling of oppression, did not come from Erigard the holy knight and instead had come from the always calm Cecilia. She was now looking at Erigard with eyes full of resolve.
“That was enough, Erigard. I will not tolerate this battle to continue; don’t make me make a move.”
The conviction displayed within Cecilia’s eyes was sincere; Desmond didn’t need to see the four-pointed star shining within her pupils to know. But Cecilia’s passive demeanor prevented the girl from being taken seriously by someone like Erigard.
The holy knight smiled sadistically in Cecilia’s direction, and without saying a word, a torrential storm of radiant mana engulfed his sword before Erigard lunged in Desmond’s direction.
Cecilia wanted to intercede, but she was already one step too late. Erigard was fast, extremely fast, and not only that; Erigard was strong, overwhelmingly strong. At least the current Desmond couldn’t compete with the holy knight in terms of sheer power.
However, Desmond was not someone who relied on raw power from the beginning. Even though Desmond was incredibly powerful and possessed enormous elemental mastery, he had never abandoned his base as a martial artist.
For Desmond, raw power was helpful, but there was no way raw power would be enough; no, Desmond was a firm believer that there was no such thing as absolute power, and thus, there was no way to remain undefeated by relying solely on strength.
Because of this, Desmond had always maintained his martial arts training and had been on his way to developing a fighting style that most efficiently combined his martial arts with the use of mana.
In a way, even though Desmond didn’t believe in absolutes, he was the type to pursue absolute prowess and such; Desmond despised people like Erigard.
“Absolute power? You will regret saying such arrogant words!” Desmond exclaimed with a savage grin.
Using to raise his computational abilities beyond his limits, Desmond adjusted every part and angle of his stance and received Erigard’s powerful thrust.
Erigard wanted to laugh aloud when he saw that someone was foolish enough to take his attack head-on, but the smile on his face froze as he felt his sword meet almost no resistance.
Erigard watched in disbelief as Desmond had used an incredibly clever and well-calculated angle to completely deflect the direction of his thrust using the sword scabbard.
Then it was Desmond’s turn to take advantage of his opponent’s carelessness. Desmond’s right shoulder returned to its original position with a grotesque crack, and Desmond used both his fractured right hand and left hand to hold both the handle of the sword and the end of the sheath.
Using a technique initially intended for staff or staves, Desmond twisted his elbows and shoulders back and forth, using both the end of the sheath and the sword’s hilt to deliver several close-range strikes on Erigard’s chin.
First, the left side of Erigard’s chin was hit by the end of the sheath, and then it was the right edge of his jaw that was hit just before the base of his chin was struck again by the sword sheath.
Two sideways blows followed by a sharp upward blow, all aimed at the chin, rocked Erigard’s face from side to side and sent his brain bouncing like a tennis ball inside his skull.
Erigard’s vision darkened, his senses dulled completely, his posture snapped, and his legs barely found enough strength to keep his body from collapsing.
Now, Erigard was no different from a rabbit in the wolf’s jaws, and the wolf was ready to stain his fangs with blood.