Free Web NovelChapter 167: Chapter 167: Time to Level the Playing Field
Snapping out of his daze, Ulric lifted his gaze toward the sky, his eyes settling on the grey-robed figure hovering calmly atop the mystical flying artifact high above.
"You didn’t seem to care much about your friend," Ulric muttered, the words carrying more certainty than curiosity as he glanced toward the empty space where Kael had once stood.
A glint of curiosity flickered within his eyes. He had a feeling that if the figure had intervened in time, there might have been a chance to snatch Kael from death’s embrace before his blade absorbed him completely.
Yet the man had remained a mere spectator from beginning to end. If anything, Ulric had the distinct impression that the grey-robed figure had expected this outcome all along, perhaps even welcoming it.
A little strange.
A moment of silence descended, lingering for a few seconds before the grey-robed figure finally broke it. His face twisting slightly as if he found offense in the youth’s words.
"Kael was no friend of mine," Artorias spat. The disdain in his voice deepened. "He was weak, and there is only one fate for the weak."
"Death," Ulric mumbled beneath his breath as he let out a slow breath.
It might have seemed ruthless from a different perspective, but Ulric could see the truth in the figure’s words.
Either you were strong or weak. And the strong decided the fate of the weak.
A cruel reality embedded within the realm of Arcadia. One he was slowly coming to terms with.
The one with the bigger fists was always right.
As the words echoed in his ears, Artorias cracked a faint smile as he stared down at the black-robed youth.
Only this time, in a different light.
Earlier, he had assumed he was just a little brat blinded by arrogance. But now he could see he had been wrong.
His arrogance stemmed from his great strength. Something he respected.
But that was only the beginning.
For the briefest moment, he had glimpsed a fraction of the youth’s potential, and it was nothing short of monstrous.
If brought back and nurtured by the academy, it wouldn’t be long before he became an unstoppable force. His talent was so bright it was almost blinding.
Which was why he proposed:
"Now that you’ve proven your point, I urge you to reconsider my words. There’s no need for us to fight. You can come with me and forget any of this ever happened."
He muttered, gesturing around at the carnage left behind by the battle.
Pausing for a moment, his gaze lowered to Ulric’s face as he waited for his response.
He could already see the thoughtful look forming across it, as if he were genuinely considering the offer, which made him ease up slightly.
After all, if he could recruit a supreme genius and make a friend in the same breath, why not?
Just as a ray of hope began to form in his heart, it was extinguished by the youth’s next words.
"I insist," Ulric muttered.
There was nothing to consider.
It wasn’t every day he got the chance to fight a B-rank being. Such an opportunity was meant to be cherished.
Not passed up.
After all, how else was he supposed to discover the limits of his power?
The offer was simply too good to refuse.
Artorias didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm as his fists clenched tightly, causing his knuckles to crack loudly.
"Very well. Have it your way then."
He had assumed the earlier fight would have knocked some sense into him.
But it seemed he would have to do it himself.
Besides, Artorias grinned.
The boy had caught his eye.
Perhaps he was worthy of witnessing a portion of his power.
***
Before Artorias’ words could fully register in his mind, his figure suddenly vanished.
Causing Ulric’s eyes to widen slightly.
Where was he?
One moment he had been standing before him.
The next, he was simply gone.
He didn’t have to wonder for long as his danger instincts suddenly flared wildly.
A figure appeared before him.
"This... how... I..." Ulric screamed mentally as multiple conflicting thoughts flooded his mind.
The grey-robed figure hadn’t triggered his senses through his spiritual field or even through the earth beneath his feet, despite standing directly on it.
None of it made sense.
No matter how strong a being was, he had always been able to perceive them through those parameters.
So why had they failed him now?
Unless...
His pupils constricted violently as a terrifying realization dawned upon him.
His top speed was no different from that of an F-rank being when compared to the figure before him.
Then it all made sense.
Even though Artorias was standing right before him, his senses had yet to register his presence.
How fast did one have to be to achieve such a state?
Ulric mused before discarding the thought altogether as he attempted to block the attack.
But it was futile.
From another perspective, someone might have thought he had been frozen in time.
But Ulric knew it was far worse than that.
He was simply too slow compared to the grey-robed figure.
The only reason he could perceive any of this was because of his terrifying mental acuity, thanks to the thousands of attribute points he had invested into it.
Yet even that wasn’t enough.
He watched Artorias’ attack land squarely on his chest.
The force of the blow shattered the illusion of frozen time as multiple cracking sounds echoed.
His chest caved inward as a shockwave exploded outward, sending him flying into the distance like a rag doll.
When he regained control, he winced slightly as his body skidded across the ground, carving deep furrows while he struggled to regain his footing.
Only stopping when he crashed into the city walls.
Even the seemingly impervious walls spread with thin cracks upon impact.
Walls refined to withstand attacks from even B-rank beasts.
Stirring slowly, Ulric fell to one knee as he struggled to rise.
All while coughing streams of blood.
Stilling his breath, he monitored the damage across his body as the exchange replayed repeatedly within his mind.
The more he analyzed it, the more shocked he became.
Was this the power of a B-rank being?
Speed so overwhelming it didn’t even leave afterimages. The figure might as well have been teleporting.
He had assumed that with all his power, he would at least stand a chance. Or perhaps exchange a few blows.
But it seemed he had been wrong. The gap was simply too wide. Or was it?
His thoughts were cut short as Artorias’ figure blinked into existence before him once more.
His speed remained just as terrifying.
Yet the moment he appeared before the dark-robed youth, a shocked look was plastered across his face.
The blow he had unleashed should have killed a regular peak C-rank being a hundred times over.
From everything he had deduced, he had expected it to leave the youth gravely injured and on the verge of death.
Then he could simply pick him up and leave without resistance.
As for the risk of killing him, he wasn’t worried.
The elixirs and potions tucked safely inside his storage ring would prevent that.
But none of that mattered now. Because the blow had only shattered a few ribs. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
Nothing more. How strong was the youth’s physique actually?
Artorias mused as a tinge of envy flashed across his eyes.
Why did the heavens favor some people so much?
If he possessed that physique, he could only imagine how powerful he would be right now.
Still, if the youth believed that physique alone was enough to stop him, he was severely mistaken.
It was tough. But that was all.
A few more blows and it would crumble beneath his barrage.
Yet he didn’t want to take it that far.
Not yet.
As the thought formed in the back of his mind, he crouched low and grabbed the youth by the neck.
With a single snap, he could end it all if he chose.
"Why must you be so... stubborn?" Artorias growled. "Can’t you see you’re not even a match for me?"
As he finished speaking, he watched the youth’s lips slowly move before a strained breath escaped him.
The response caught him off guard.
"I... agree," Ulric muttered, nearly choking on his own blood.
Easing his grip, Artorias’ eyes widened slightly.
Why had he suddenly changed his mind?
Had he finally knocked some sense into him?
It was good to see the youth understood that not every battle could be won.
Just as a wave of satisfaction began washing over him, he suddenly paused.
An eerie grin was spreading across the youth’s face.
Then came a fit of chilling laughter that caused even Artorias to tense slightly.
That didn’t sound like the laughter of defeat.
If anything, it felt as though he had unknowingly stepped into a trap.
The youth’s next words only confirmed his fears.
"Time to level the playing field."
