Chapter 67: Unforgivable

Amidst the throng, two figures locked gazes, their tension palpable. The atmosphere bristled with anticipation, a sense that impending chaos was on the brink, igniting both anxiety and fervor among the spectators.

"I challenge you to a duel, Arthur Lock," the words cut through the stillness, leaving the room agog in disbelief. Was this really happening?

"Andrew! Are you insane?!" Lady Leonora exclaimed, flabbergasted by the audacious declaration she had just heard.

Arthur, on the other hand, wore a grin of amusement. "Oh? What's the wager? Remember, the loser bows to the winner's whims."

An eerie silence lingered, leaving the challenge unresolved.

"Nothing? I'll start then... If I win," Andrew's voice resounded, his eyes scanning the room until they settled on Leonora. The mischievous glint in his eyes deepened, transforming into a predatory gaze.

"If I win, I'll have your wife in my bed for a week. Kekekeke," a twisted chuckle escaped him, reverberating like a deranged symphony. "Let's see if she'll still wish to return to your side after that."

The demands hung in the air, evoking a myriad of emotions from those present. Some husbands felt a surge of disgust and resentment towards Arthur, while others reveled in the unfolding spectacle. A rivalry's flame flickered within some, while most looked on with a mix of concern for Andrew and Leonora, and loathing towards Arthur.

"And if I win... You depart the kingdom, bid farewell to your studies, and vanish from these halls forever," Andrew gritted out the conditions, his teeth clenched as he wrestled to contain his simmering anger. His resolve was evident, though the true extent of his emotions remained hidden, waiting for the fight to be legitimized and sanctioned.

"It's a deal. You pathetic cuck! Let's settle this!" Arthur's enthusiasm burned bright, his words a mixture of eagerness and bravado as he assumed his fighting stance.

Amidst this confrontation, the royal family observed from the sidelines, emotions flickering across their faces like shifting shadows. However, an unexpected voice broke through the tense ambiance, altering the course of events.

"I believe it would be imprudent to engage in combat within these walls," a melodious voice rang out, silencing the room and directing every gaze towards the source. The princess, her face concealed beneath a delicate veil, stood with a solemn expression, her words carrying an air of authority.

"Follow me. For those who wish to bear witness, you are welcome to accompany us," she added, her smile injecting a touch of levity to the proceedings.

"A free, impromptu duel at a royal event? Perhaps we shall make it a tradition in the future," the king mused, eliciting chuckles that danced like fireflies through the room.

Without further ado, the procession began, led by the princess, who navigated through the crowd towards the royal garden. As the attendees followed, a sense of camaraderie seemed to settle over the gathering, an unspoken understanding uniting them in anticipation of the forthcoming spectacle.

Meanwhile, Lukeas remained in close proximity to Andrew, his impatience growing palpable with each passing moment. The vexation simmered within him, Arthur's every move a provocation he could scarcely tolerate. The inexplicable intensity of his reactions baffled even him.

'Why does he get under my skin so much? What's triggering this anger?' Lukeas fumed internally, a storm of frustration raging within him, oblivious to the fact that countless pair of eyes watches his actions.

Beside him, Morgan and Leonora shared knowing glances, their concerns echoing in unspoken understanding. The tension was not lost on them; they perceived Lukeas's clenched fist and heavy breathing, evidence of his inner turmoil.

And as for Leonora she have tried talking some sense in her husbands brain but she was left ignored, while his husbands remains seething with cold aner towards the young twisted teenager.

As Arthur led the way, Andrew strode behind him not even hiding his hate towards him. While on the other hand Arthurs eyes was fixed on the princess. The intensity of his gaze was unmistakable, revealing a lustful desire that he made no effort to conceal. His focus remained unyielding, captivated by her presence.

Though her face was concealed with a veil, the princess maintained her dignified pace, her discomfort veiled beneath a polite smile. Aware of the many eyes upon her, she projected an air of serene composure, her outward demeanor belying her inner turmoil.

Upon reaching the royal garden, the procession came to a halt. The princess turned, her gaze sweeping over the assembled audience, a quiet resolve etched in her features.

"Let the two of you take your positions at the center," her voice carried with it a command that held no room for negotiation. The garden sprawled before them, an expanse of green that stretched like a canvas awaiting the drama to unfold. Among the foliage, a distinctive platform rose, resembling a training ground—a unique fixture in this picturesque setting.

It took a measured passage of time for Andrew and Arthur to traverse the distance, the anticipation of the onlookers intensifying with each step. By the time they reached the platform's center, the royal family had also arrived, observing the impending clash with a mixture of concern and excitement.

The princess turned to her father, her gaze seeking affirmation. The king met her eyes with a nod of approval, signaling his readiness to officiate the duel.

With a swift motion, his hands rose and then descended, his voice resounding with authority. "BEGIN THE DUEL!" His proclamation hung in the air, a clarion call that heralded the commencement of the battle, the clash of wills and strength about to be set in motion.

The tension in the garden was palpable as Andrew and Arthur faced off, their expressions a mixture of determination and arrogance. With a deft flick of his fingers, Andrew launched a cascade of coins, each moving like a bullet, seeking its target with lethal precision. Arthur moved with uncanny agility, a whirlwind of motion that seemed to anticipate the path of each coin. His movements flowed, his body seemingly attuned to the chaos around him.

A coin whizzed toward Arthur's head, but he ducked with a fluid grace, the projectile missing by a hair's breadth. In response, Arthur's eyes flashed with a dark intensity as he summoned an inferno to envelop his body. Flames danced around him, forming into a blazing sword that crackled with raw energy.

Andrew's eyes widened, his surprise evident as he adjusted his strategy. He manipulated the trajectory of his finger-coins, sending them in erratic patterns to keep Arthur on his toes. But Arthur's mastery over fire was undeniable. With a flourish, he sent a torrent of flames hurtling toward the oncoming coins, the heat evaporating them before they could strike.

As the duel intensified, Andrew's movements became more calculated. He channeled his blessing into precision, each finger fired a coin bullet aimed with surgical accuracy.

One coin, two coins, they sailed through the air, creating a lethal symphony that tested Arthur's defenses. But Arthur's bones were like a metal, an armor that deflected the coins with a resounding clang, the sound of metal meeting metal.

Arthur's lips curled into a mocking smile as he summoned the power of lightning. Bolts of electricity crackled around him, illuminating his features with an eerie glow. With a casual gesture, he unleashed a lightning bolt that streaked across the sky, its brilliance illuminating the battlefield. The bolt converged on Andrew, who twisted and dodged, narrowly avoiding the searing arc of energy. He might not have the speed to dodge a lightning strike.. Its quite obvious as to where Arthur was aiming it.

A sinister grin spread across Arthur's face as he clenched his fist, summoning his next move. His surroundings trembled as the earth obeyed his command. Spikes of soil erupted from the ground, forming a defensive barrier that blocked Andrew's coins. The ground beneath Andrew shifted, forcing him to dance a precarious dance to evade the menacing spikes.

But Andrew was far from defeated. With a determined glint in his eye, he harnessed his blessing in a new way. He infused his finger to flick and throw golden coins with an uncanny speed, each projectile becoming a blur of motion. They ricocheted off the ground and earth walls, creating a dazzling display of light as they homed in on Arthur from unexpected angles.

With a calculated intensity, Andrew embarked on his next move. Flicking a cascade of golden coins into the air, he watched as each glinting disc assumed its place in a symphony of orchestrated chaos. As the coins took flight, one by one, they painted a mesmerizing trajectory, each movement a testament to Andrew's strategic finesse.

Among the shimmering cascade, a single coin struck the carefully conjured earthen wall that Arthur had erected as a barrier. The impact reverberated through the air, triggering a chain reaction that defied expectation. The collision sent shockwaves coursing through the arrangement of coins, as if an invisible maestro directed their intricate dance.

The initial coin's trajectory was altered, setting into motion a sequence of uncanny events. Like a virtuoso playing an elaborate composition, each coin collided with another, a series of ricochets that defied predictability. Their collisions resulted in a mesmerizing display, akin to the interplay of celestial bodies in the night sky.

Andrew's observant eyes tracked the mesmerizing dance of the coins, recognizing the pattern he had set in motion. The culmination of these meticulously calculated movements came to fruition as he launched into motion, a fluid leap carrying him to the safety of the sidelines. With deft precision, he employed his skill once more, his thumb flicking a single Platinum coin into the fray.

The Platinum coin soared with a newfound vigor, its velocity and force markedly greater than previous instances. The air seemed to ripple with its passage, an embodiment of Andrew's power. The coin blazed a path through the air, its journey infused with deadly magical properties and strategy.

Arthur's initial concern manifested as a fleeting shadow across his features. Yet, a realization bloomed within his mind— that the coin's trajectory wouldn't lead it to him. He prepared to witness the coin's course divert away, his confidence rekindled.

However, everything was part of Andrew's plan. Just as Arthur's conviction solidified, a glimmering golden coin, a result of Andrew's intricate orchestration, burst into view. And it precisely hit the platinum coin in the side, a calculated outcome of Andrew's calculated attacks, shifted the trajectory of the platinum coin.

In a breathless instant, the trajectory shifted irrevocably. The once-assured path of the Platinum coin warped, its course taking an unforeseen turn. The momentum that Arthur had believed could be anticipated became a maelstrom of uncertainty. The golden coin's intervention, an unexpected intervention, redirected the Platinum coin with surgical precision.

The outcome was inevitable. The Platinum coin veered, closing the gap between itself and Arthur's countenance. In that suspended moment, a collision of forces and strategies culminated. The coin struck with a resounding impact, shattering Arthur's skull and sending shockwaves through the gathered spectators and sending Artur staggering back.

Arthur recoiled, a mixture of surprise and disbelief painting his expression. The bruise forming on his face was a testament to the potency of Andrew's tactics, a reminder that even the most calculated strategies could be subverted by ingenuity and swift adaptation.

As the duel pressed on, the crowd remained enraptured by the unfolding spectacle, each twist and turn a testament to the unpredictability of magical combat. The clash of powers and wits had reached a crescendo, a battle where each move was a note in a symphony of enchantment.

while Andrew have a look of shock and fear in his face. 'How did he stay conscious from that??!! He should have died or past out!! is his bones made out of metal ???!!'

Arthur's expression turned grim as he summoned his own magic, a fireball of immense proportions forming in his palm. The ball of flames surged forward, colliding with Andrew's Platinum coin. The clash was cataclysmic, sparks flying as the fireball engulfed the coin in an explosive display. The shockwave rippled through the air, sending debris and dirt flying in all directions.

The garden became a battleground of fire, metal, and elemental fury. Andrew's fingers danced, conjuring coins that whistled through the air. Arthur's movements were fluid, every maneuver calculated to counter and retaliate. Fire and lightning clashed with bullets and metal, each combatant pushing the other to their limits.

As the duel reached its climax, Andrew's brow glistened with sweat, his resolve unyielding despite the odds. He twisted his wrist, summoning a barrage of coins that spiraled toward Arthur, a relentless storm of metal that refused to be denied. But Arthur's lips curled into a triumphant smile as he unleashed his secret weapon. His once bruise and caved in temple, now completely healed.

And then banshee like wail tore through the air, a sonic scream of agony that disrupted the very fabric of the battlefield. The force of the soundwaves shattered Andrew's focus, causing him to falter for a crucial moment. It was in that instant that Arthur seized the opportunity, conjuring an array of earth spikes that erupted from the ground beneath Andrew's feet.

Andrew's eyes widened in realization, his agility insufficient to evade the onslaught. The spikes impaled him, the pain searing through his body as he gritted his teeth against the agony. He struggled to remain standing, his breathing labored, but his will unbroken.

In a final, desperate gambit, Andrew channeled his blessing one last time. He flicked his fingers, sending a final golden coin hurtling toward Arthur. But Arthur's eyes glinted with a mixture of triumph and malevolence as he summoned his mana shield. The coin struck the barrier, its momentum absorbed by the magical shield.

The duel had ended. Andrew laid battered and bruised, his clothes torn and stained. Arthur, on the other hand, appeared relatively unscathed, his smile victorious. The audience watched in awe and discomfort, witnessing the brutal exchange of magical prowess. Arthur's glee was evident, his sadistic enjoyment casting a shadow over his victory.

Leonora's heart ached for her husband, her desire to intervene nearly overwhelming. But the rules of the duel were clear, and disrupting the proceedings would only lead to further legal consequences. She clenched her fists, torn between her duty and her love, as the aftermath of the duel unfolded before them.

"You watching this you bitch? This is what happens when you fuck with me! I'm THE protagonist of this story! I AM! destined to be the greatest of all!" Arthur laughed manically as he steps closer to Andrew.

Then he reached down and grab Andrew by his hair and slam it back down.

"As for you! You should be lucky the future hero is gonna fuck your wife!!" He chuckled. "You! SHOULD! BE! HONORED!" he screamed at him word by word and with each word he would slam the mans face in the ground with glee.

"NOO STOP IT!!!" the voice of Leonora echoed out. Arthur look up with a huge smile as he couldn't wait for the high and mighty woman just earlier to kneel and beg for him.

But once he finally looked up he saw something unexpected. A sole of someone's shoe.

"Hu-?"

Amidst the flurry of his thoughts, a bone-shattering impact struck Andrew like the ferocity of an oncoming freight train. The force was overwhelming, a seismic collision that sent shockwaves through his body. His senses reeled as if caught in a tempest, his equilibrium disrupted and every fiber of his being protesting against the unrelenting assault.

Airborne, he spiraled through the atmosphere, a puppet cut from its strings. The world around him devolved into a dizzying swirl of colors and shapes, his vision blurred and distorted. In that fleeting moment of chaos, as his consciousness hung precariously on the edge of oblivion, a faint glimmer pierced through the whirlwind.

His gaze fixed on a singular point amidst the maelstrom—a figure, standing resolute, unyielding against the tempest he had become. It was Lukeas, a steadfast sentinel who had witnessed Andrews' defeat and Arthurs brutal treatment and finally couldn't hold himself back . In that transitory glance, time seemed to elongate, each millisecond stretched to its limit.

As Arthur's body collided with the ground, the impact reverberated through his bones, jolting him into a painful reality. The shock of pain was a stark reminder that his descent had come to an abrupt and harsh end. Struggling to catch his breath, he lay sprawled upon the earth, his limbs protesting every movement. Although his bones were as strong as metal it have cracked and shattered like ice cubes against a hammer from Lukeas' kick

Through a haze of pain and dizziness, he tried to make sense of what had just transpired. The battlefield was a canvas of ruin, the remnants of their magical exchange still lingering in the air. The cheers and gasps of the spectators reached his ears, a mix of astonishment and incredulity.

Arthur's gaze sought out Lukeas once more, his pride dented, his body bruised, and his ego shattered. The specter of humiliation loomed heavily over him, yet amidst the whirlwind of emotions but most of which are hate..

"Unforgivable" Lukeas muttered as he apathetically watched Arthur get sent flying by his kick.