Kill The Old Ones!

Chapter 162: Tournament: Odds Defied

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Soren Marek Vire vs. Charles Atelier.

They’re the last pair remaining so nobody has to guess who they’re fighting. But just so that it’s official, the drawing lots still displayed their faces and their names anyway.

Ren felt Charles’ eyes on him, but he ignored it. He just went into his tunnel and walked until he reached the stage.

On his way out, he could hear the cheers of the crowd. A lot of people were screaming and cheering for Charles, not him. Alex was probably cheering for him loudly, but his voice will be drowned out by everybody else.

That’s just how it is.

Edgar was commentating. He heard him talk about him for a brief moment before he moved on to Charles, highlighting his background and glazing him.

Ren fought off a smirk from forming on his face. The bias of the host was really showing, which makes this more interesting.

The voices and the noises died out once he was on the stage, though. The dome that encased the battlefield prevented the voices and the noise outside from getting in. The noises within this battlefield were also contained here.

Ren stood at one side of the arena. Here, Ren finally acknowledged what the battlefield looked like.

Most of the ground was hard and uneven. There were rocks and boulders jutting out of the ground. There were patches of greenery here and there and a few trees too.

Some places were elevated, others were declined. There were flat areas, but those two were sparse.

By the time he was done inspecting the battlefield, Charles was already standing on the opposite side of the arena.

They gave each other a measured look, but both wore faces of casualness.

"Cool tats, man," Charles said.

"Thanks," Ren replied, casually accepting the praise. "Your piercings are cool, too."

If Ren looked like a gangster or a thug with his sleeve tattoo, then Charles looked like a rebellious delinquent. He had many piercings on his ears, nose, and his tongue as well. There are probably more hidden beneath his clothes.

"You like that? They hurt like a bitch, though. But hey, anything to feel something, you know?" Charles shrugged casually as if it weren’t a big deal.

The countdown appeared above them, but neither looked at it.

Charles eyed Ren’s tattoos and said, "It would look cooler if they were colored."

"They are colored. Black as ink," Ren sounded amused.

Charles let out a belly laugh at that.

"Right, obviously. Sorry, sometimes, stupidity gets the better of me."

"Hey, no shame. Happens to the best of us." Ren shrugged.

There was brief silence after that.

"So, like...you really think you can win this?"

Those words were laced with a taunt; that much was clear.

"I don’t ’think,’ man. I know. I will win this thing." Ren wasn’t one to back down either.

Charles’ lips twitch with a smile.

"Refreshing. Hadn’t met a guy with this much confidence in a long while," he said as he drew an axe out of nowhere.

"It’s also been a while since I’ve been underestimated." He scratched his head as if he were struggling.

"Darn, and here I thought I could take it easy to piss off my folks back home. But it looks like I’m going to need to teach you a lesson."

"You don’t look like a teacher to me," Ren flatly pointed out, causing a throb of annoyance to Charles. "But hey, what do I know? People come in all forms nowadays. If you feel like you can, don’t let me stop you. I look forward to it."

Ren was vaguely aware that their conversation was being heard outside. Although the noises they made are contained in this dome and the ones outside couldn’t get in, the system could let the audience hear what’s happening outside without affecting the fighters.

Ren didn’t care much, though. He saw the countdown nearly over. Then he heard Charles ask:

"Not going to take out your weapons?"

Ren shrugged again and said, "Don’t have any. Can’t use them, either. Arms and legs are all I need, though. But thanks for your concern."

Charles blinked at him, and then, as if a lightbulb suddenly lit up on his head, he realized something.

"Banished Arms Clan?"

"Yep." Ren made no effort to hide that. Not like he could even if he wanted to.

"Oh, well, sucks for you, then!"

The countdown ended just as soon as Charles said that; he most certainly didn’t waste a moment. He charged and closed the distance. His axe hung above Ren’s head as if wanting to cleave him in half.

His attack had so much momentum that it made the axe look bigger than it actually was. Furthermore, that momentum was much more. It pressed down on Ren as if wanting to force him to kneel.

This was the effect of the Royal Dominion Art—the main inheritance of the Atelier family, who once sat upon the royal throne.

For someone who’s supposed to be rebelling, Charles certainly knows how to use this art very well.

However, it’s not enough. Far from it.

Ren didn’t even move to evade this attack. He just lifted his arm and caught the blade of the axe with his arm covered in chakra.

Charles nearly choked when he felt the impact. He felt as if he had hacked into a solid and impact-absorbent tree bark that also trapped his axe.

His pupils constricted as he saw Ren casually gripping the bladed edge of his axe as if it were the blunt side. Not a drop of blood on his palms, and his hold was like a vice grip, keeping the axe firmly on his hand, making it impossible for Charles to retrieve it.

Outside of the dome and in the waiting room, there was silence.

The people who were once cheering loudly for Charles were silenced uncomfortably and left in disbelief. freewēbnoveℓ.com

They couldn’t believe what they just saw—an empty hand catching a bladed axe. How in the world was that possible?

And it’s not like Charles held back, either. They saw the domineering golden radiance erupting from him, which was a sign that he used his family’s main art—the Royal Dominion Art.

This art was said to completely eclipse and suppress the opponent, making the other party weaker and subdued. It also enhances the user’s strength by up to 50% in an instant.

Yet, with all of that, this unknown guy from a poor clan caught the attack like it was nothing.

The impact of the scene was even more shocking when they saw how Charles struggled to pull his axe from Ren’s hold only to fail miserably.

"Let go, damn it!"

"Oh, right. Yeah, here you go." Ren let go of his clamp on the axe, and only then was Charles able to retrieve it.

It made him look pathetic, to be honest, and that’s not only painful for him but also for the audience.

"Alright, you’ve done it now!"

Charles realized that he might be against some real tough guy right now and couldn’t afford to hold back. So he took this fight seriously.

Golden radiance erupted from him once again. This time, it was several times stronger than before. There was a visible struggle on Charles’ face, but he was enduring it.

Gold covered not only his body but also his axe; his presence suddenly swelled a couple of times over, making him look more intimidating. A heavier pressure pressed down on Ren, practically forcing him to kneel down, but Ren’s back remained ramrod straight.

On top of Charles’ head, a silhouette of a golden crown formed from the golden radiance he’s exuding. This was a natural phenomenon that happened when he used this art, and it’s also the source of the Atelier family’s obsession.

Charles grunted and began hacking away at Ren. He held his greataxe with both hands and was definitely not holding back at all.

His attacks left long gashes at the battlefield; he cleaved through rocks and boulders as if they were tofu. Even the sparse greens and trees weren’t spared from his rampage.

And at the eye of Charles’s storm of rampage was Ren. Still standing on the same spot as if he were a great tree rooted on it.

He didn’t dodge, didn’t evade, and didn’t shy away from the confrontation. He just raised his hand and smacked Charles’ flurry of attacks like he’s swatting flies away.

It’s as if these deadly attacks were all but mere suggestions or inconveniences to him.

Charles couldn’t believe what was happening, and so did the audience. Even Edgar was flabbergasted because he wasn’t expecting this outcome at all.

This happened for a good while, and the longer it went, the more bored Ren looked.

At some point, he smacked the axe just a little bit harder than before, which caused it to shatter into pieces.

"Asshole! I liked that axe!" Charles was both shocked, infuriated, and frightened, especially when Ren began walking towards him.

"I’ll buy you a new one, a better one. Sorry, but I grow tired of this. Later."

Charles couldn’t even see what he did. He just felt pain in his stomach, one so overwhelming that it swallowed his consciousness.

Before he passed out, he recalled what he said to Alden before the tournament started.

’Ah, me and my goddamn mouth.’