Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2936: Battle of Attrition?

Date: Unspecified ƒгeewebnovёl.com

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Sky Blossom City

*Boom!*

Veerott burst forward at maximum speed, crossing the distance between us in an instant. Or at least, that had been his intention. The moment he entered striking range, a floating fist materialized out of nowhere and slammed directly into his face.

*Bang!*

The impact sent him hurtling backward. A bright red fist mark appeared on his cheek as he dug his feet through the air and forcibly brought himself to a halt.

Instead of getting angry, Veerott’s eyes immediately sharpened. He scanned the battlefield, searching for the owner of the attack. There was nothing, no figure, no aura, no visible enemy. Only the endless gray world of the One Thousand Curse Fields. frёeωebɳovel.com

Then he noticed them, floating fists, thousands of them. More than two thousand floating fists had silently appeared throughout the field, surrounding him from every direction.

For the briefest moment, Veerott looked stunned. Then the fists attacked. Like a pack of starving wolves spotting prey, they rushed him simultaneously.

*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*

The air exploded with impacts. Veerott reacted immediately, throwing up his guard and counterattacking with frightening precision. Every punch he landed shattered a floating fist into fragments of curse energy.

Unfortunately, there were simply too many of them. For every fist he destroyed, several more slipped through his defenses.

Punches hammered into his ribs, his shoulders, his back, his legs, his jaw, his stomach. They came from above, below, behind, and from angles that shouldn’t have been possible. The fists attacked without rhythm or hesitation, each one coordinating perfectly with the others.

Veerott found himself completely overwhelmed. His incredible strength and combat instincts allowed him to block dozens of attacks. But against more than two thousand simultaneously? Even he had limits.

Soon, Veerott was forced into a purely defensive position. Rather than wasting energy trying to intercept every attack, he immediately switched tactics.

His body curled inward as he assumed a fetal position, tightly balling himself up. Instead of exposing vulnerable joints, tendons, and vital organs, he presented only the thickest and most heavily trained muscle groups to the incoming barrage.

The muscles across his body visibly compressed and hardened. They looked less like flesh and more like polished diamonds. At a glance, it appeared as though a giant tortoise had retreated into its shell.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

The impacts continued to echo throughout the battlefield. The proud Viltronian who had charged at me moments earlier was now being hammered from every direction like dough beneath a baker’s relentless fists.

Yet despite the absurd sight, I didn’t laugh. Because I understood exactly what I was witnessing.

Every single floating fist carried the force of a semi-ruler-class attack. Meanwhile, Veerott was only a peak noble-class existence. The force behind each strike was an entire realm above him. And he wasn’t enduring one attack. He was enduring thousands. Yet not a single punch managed to break his defense.

His skin remained intact, his muscles held firm, and his posture never collapsed. The fact that he could withstand such punishment without suffering visible damage was a testament to just how terrifying a properly trained Viltronian truly was.

I had no idea what martial art Veerott cultivated, but it along with his Viltronian physique was clearly allowing him to bridge the gap between noble class and semi-ruler class. That alone was monstrous. It proved something I had long suspected.

Viltronian strength became exponentially more frightening when refined through skill and training rather than relying solely on raw power. A normal semi-ruler-class opponent would have been in serious trouble against someone like Veerott.

In fact, most would have been completely overwhelmed. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t fighting a normal semi-ruler-class opponent. He was fighting me, practically an army of a semi-ruler-class hybrid of a Viltronian and a World Calamity Tree.

Veerott remained calm. He had already identified the optimal strategy. Since he couldn’t immediately break through the assault, he simply endured it. Waiting and conserving energy. Allowing his defenses to absorb the attacks while his opponent exhausted himself.

Under normal circumstances, it was an excellent plan. The problem was that he wasn’t facing a normal opponent. I didn’t grow tired. I didn’t become exhausted. And thanks to the One Thousand Curse Fields and my countless incarnations, running out of energy wasn’t a concern either.

Veerott was waiting for a moment that would never come. This meant the battle wasn’t a contest of endurance. It was just a way for me to test my strength against a proper Viltronian. Helping me see the chasm between an average Viltronian and a well trained Viltronian.

"At this rate, Veerott is going to lose," Seraphina muttered to Aqualas.

The more she watched the battle unfold, the more uneasy she became. Veerott appeared stable for now, but she couldn’t see a path to victory. Worse, she had no idea how to help him while trapped in the One Thousand Curse Fields.

"What are you talking about?" Aqualas scoffed. "Veerott is winning."

Seraphina stared at her. Aqualas folded her arms confidently and continued,

"I helped train him personally. Do you know how much pressure that form can withstand?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued with a trace of pride in her voice, "Veerott has endured the pressure of entire oceans."

"Not just the pressure of the Card World’s oceans either. I kept increasing it. Ten times. Twenty times. Fifty times. A hundred times. Every time I thought I’d finally found his limit, he somehow broke past them."

Aqualas shook her head in disbelief. The memories were still vivid. Again and again, Veerott had appeared on the verge of death. His body would crack, muscles would tear, and bones would groan beneath the pressure. Yet somehow he always endured, adapted, and became stronger. Eventually, increasing the physical pressure stopped being enough.

Aqualas had been forced to improve her own understanding of rules and meanings just to continue testing him. What had started as training eventually became a challenge she couldn’t resist. Testing Veerott’s limits had become one of her favorite hobbies.

It kept her entertained. More importantly, it kept her busy.

"Nothing can break that defense," Aqualas declared confidently. Seraphina, however, remained unconvinced.

"Physical strength is Wyatt’s weakest area," she argued.

Aqualas blinked.

Seraphina pointed toward the battlefield. "You’re looking at this as a contest of strength. It isn’t."

Her grand niece had fed her enough information on the Southern Hope. Enough to know how terrifying he truly was.

"According to the records, he’s capable of crafting cards continuously for months without rest. Whether that’s due to energy reserves, recovery methods, or some other absurd ability doesn’t matter. He effectively has inexhaustible stamina."

Aqualas’s expression finally became more serious.

"I know Veerott is strong," Seraphina continued. "But I don’t think he can endure an entire month of this."

Her eyes drifted toward the countless fists relentlessly pounding Veerott from every direction. A chill ran down her spine, as she spoke the thought crossing her mind, "That’s assuming Wyatt keeps fighting like this. He hasn’t even started using these dreadful curse fields yet."

That was the part that truly frightened her. The One Thousand Curse Fields. The thousands of ruler-class curses hidden within them. The abilities that had forced powerful Supreme Beings onto the defensive.

As Seraphina imagined those curses being layered on top of the current assault, her thoughts spiraled further and further into disaster scenarios. From her perspective, Veerott was already losing. He simply hadn’t realized it yet.

"Relax, girl." Aqualas rolled her eyes. Unlike Seraphina, she seemed completely unconcerned. A faint grin appeared on her face as she began, "Veerott, himself, is practically spending zero energy in that form. He’s not fighting back because he doesn’t need to. Honestly, if he wanted to, he could probably enter hibernation and maintain that form for years. If anyone’s getting exhausted first, it certainly isn’t him."