Free Web NovelWhile speaking, his hand had already been withdrawn from his coat.
He was holding something.
A Flail.
The head of the hammer was black, made of some metal heavier and denser than iron.
Its surface was covered with intricate patterns, resembling ancient runes or perhaps mechanical gears.
The chain was also black, each link polished to an extreme smoothness, glinting with a cold luster in the firelight.
The other end of the chain was connected to a leather-wrapped handle, which was wound with dark red cloth strips.
“Oh, how interesting.”
The man looked at the Flail, somewhat surprised.
“A Wayfarer of the Path of the Chariot using a Flail?”
“That's uncommon.”
“Is it?”
Frederick loosened his wrist.
The chain made a crisp metallic clinking sound.
“My teacher told me that the essence of the Path of the Chariot is driving and conquering.”
He began to slowly spin the Flail.
The hammer head traced a black arc in the air.
“Projecting one's will into a vehicle, making it an extension of the body.”
“A mecha is a vehicle.”
“A horse is a vehicle.”
“A weapon—”
The Flail's rotation speed grew faster and faster.
A buzzing sound of wind-breaking began to emanate from the air.
“—is also a vehicle.”
The man's eyes narrowed slightly.
“So, you want to use this... toy, to deal with me?”
“It is indeed a toy,”
Frederick said.
“A toy that will beat you to death in a moment.”
Then, he moved.
Without any warning.
Without any run-up.
His body suddenly shot forward like an arrow from a bow, like a shell from a cannon.
The Flail whistled and spun at his side, leaving a black afterimage, tearing through the air with a sharp piercing sound.
The man's reaction was also fast.
He raised his hand, and the surrounding flames instantly converged, condensing into a wall of fire in front of him.
“Naive—”
The Flail smashed into the wall of fire.
“Boom—!”
The wall of fire exploded.
Flames splattered in all directions, as if forcibly torn apart by something.
The man's expression changed.
This was—
Power.
Pure, overwhelming, unreasonable power.
The power of the Path of the Chariot.
The Flail, infused with the Wayfarer's will, was at this moment no longer just a weapon.
It was an extension of Frederick's body.
A manifestation of his will.
A tamed iron beast.
The man took a step back, flicked his wrist, and more flames surged from all directions.
At this moment, fire was the symbol of destruction, and naturally, it could be used by a believer of destruction.
They formed a rotating curtain of fire around him, then condensed and compressed into dozens of fist-sized fireballs.
“Die!”
The fireballs shot toward Frederick like raindrops.
Frederick didn't even spare them a glance.
He continued to charge forward.
The Flail swept out.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
The front row of fireballs was struck and scattered by the Flail, turning into countless splattering sparks.
But there were too many fireballs.
Some were bound to slip through the net.
Three fireballs pierced through the Flail's defense and slammed into his body.
Shoulder.
Flank.
Thigh.
His clothes burned, and his flesh scorched.
Frederick let out a muffled groan.
But he did not stop.
Did it hurt?
Yes.
But it was only that much.
Compared to Instructor Sebastian's training.
Compared to those days of having his ribs broken.
Compared to those nights when he couldn't even crawl up and could only spit blood on the ground.
Compared to all that—
This bit of burning?
“Still far from enough.”
He grinned.
And continued to charge.
True surprise finally appeared in the man's eyes.
“You—”
He didn't have time to finish.
The Flail had already arrived.
Whistling.
Roaring.
Carrying enough power to shatter a city wall.
Slamming toward his head.
The man's body leaned back, moving with incredible speed.
The Flail grazed the tip of his nose, taking with it a wisp of singed hair.
“How—”
Frederick flicked his wrist.
The chain changed its trajectory in mid-air.
The hammer head, like a venomous snake coming to life, doubled back, accelerated, and smashed toward the back of the man's head from an impossible angle.
The man's eyes widened suddenly.
His body twisted into a bizarre angle, barely dodging the fatal blow.
But the Flail still grazed his shoulder.
“Pfft.”
Clothes tore.
Flesh split open.
Blood splattered.
The man retreated three steps.
He looked down at his shoulder.
There was a deep wound, with the bone clearly visible.
Blood was gushing out.
Then, he looked up at Frederick.
His expression was complex.
There was anger.
There was confusion.
And—
Incredulity.
“You...”
His voice was somewhat raspy.
“You're only a Sequence II...”
“Yeah.”
Frederick moved his shoulder burned by the fireballs and grinned.
“I'm Sequence II.”
“So what?”
The man's expression twisted.
He raised his hand, and more flames surged from all directions.
More than before.
More violent than before.
The entire street was burning, flames winding and converging like living things, forming a rotating pillar of fire around him.
The temperature rose sharply.
The air began to distort.
“I don't believe it—”
His voice became shrill.
“I don't believe a Sequence II can defeat me!”
“I am of the Path of the Tower!”
“I am the incarnation of destruction!”
“You—!”
Frederick's roar interrupted him. freēwēbnovel.com
“You're fucking worthy of that?!”
He charged again.
The Flail whistled.
The sound of breaking air was like thunder.
The pillar of fire came head-on, the scorching heat wave causing his eyebrows to curl.
But he ignored it entirely and plunged headlong into the fire pillar.
Flames burned on his body.
Hair.
Clothes.
Skin.
Pain surged from all directions, like countless red-hot knives cutting into him.
But he was still charging.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
The Flail spun in the flames, tearing open a passage.
Then.
He passed through the fire pillar.
And appeared before the man.
At point-blank range.
The man's face was written with shock.
“Impossible—”
The first strike fell.
“Boom—!”
A dull impact sound.
The man's body was like a broken kite, flying backward and slamming into a ruined wall.
Dust flew.
Frederick stood in place, smoke rising from his body.
His clothes were mostly burned away, revealing the lean, strong physique and burn-covered skin underneath.
Red, black, and blisters oozing fluid.
But he was still standing.
The Flail spun slowly in his hand, emitting a low hum.
In the ruins, the man struggled to crawl up.
This strike hit him right in the face; his nasal bone collapsed, and blood burst out.
He looked at Frederick.
His eyes were full of disbelief.
“My dear classmate, Pavela, a Sequence V Destroyer of the Path of the Tower, killed all her enemies alone in the Virtual Realm of the Path of the Tower; she is not called the ‘Incarnation of Destruction’ for nothing.”
“A backstabbing villain like you, a dog-like fellow, is also called the ‘Incarnation of Destruction’!?”
The man struggled to stand up.
Flames reconverged around him, attempting to form a defense.
Frederick didn't give him the chance.
The second strike.
The Flail whistled and smashed into his chest.
“Thump!”
The sternum collapsed.
Ribs snapped.
The man was sent flying like a ragdoll, rolling three times on the ground before hitting a burning wall.
The wall collapsed with a crash.
Bricks and stones fell on him.
Frederick walked over step by step.
The chain dragged on the ground, making a harsh metallic scraping sound.
“Originally, I was already very angry that the Children of Dawn were planting bombs here to harm civilians.”
“Now even you guys jump out to take advantage of the chaos.”
“Killing the elderly here.”
“Killing children here.”
“Killing those who did nothing wrong here.”
“And then calling yourself the incarnation of destruction?”
He stood before the man.
The man's face was distorted beyond recognition.
Blood flowed from the corners of his mouth, nostrils, and ears.
His eyes were full of °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° fear.
True fear.
“No... don't...”
He wanted to raise his hand.
Wanted to summon fire.
But his hand was shaking.
His whole body was shaking.
The flames flickered unsteadily around him, like a candle in the wind.
Frederick looked down at him.
His face was filled with distinct rage, and in the reflection of the firelight, combined with that half-distorted scar, he looked even more terrifying than that Destroyer.
“Since you like destruction so much.”
The Flail in his hand was raised high, tracing a pitch-black arc in the firelight.
“Then I'll send you to destruction!”
Dong—!
The ground vibrated.
Stone slabs shattered.
Dust flew.
