Chapter 2: Greatest Monarch System [2]
[Name: Kian]
[Race: Human]
[Rank: Low Slave (3)]
[Worth: 10 gold coins.]
[Age: 17]
[HP: 7/10]
[Strength: 8]
[Speed: 6]
[Endurance: 10]
[Stat points: 1]
[Skills: (2)]
1) Hand To Hand Combat [Lv.1] [3/10] [Grade: Low Slave (3)]
-> +5 Strength (Condition: No weapons used by user or foe.)
2) Rage Punch [Lv.1] [2/10] [Grade: Low Slave (3)]
-> +5 Strength, +5 Endurance, +2 Speed (Condition: If the user is sufficiently angry; HP less than 50%.)
[Personality/Traits: Brave; Arrogant; Troublemaker; Moody]
[Condition: Angered; Tired]
[Name: Misli]
[Race: Human]
[Rank: Low Slave (2)]
[Worth: 20 gold coins.]
[Age: 17]
[HP: 8/10]
[Strength: 8]
[Speed: 9]
[Endurance: 10]
[Stat points: 2]
[Skills: (1)]
1) One shot [Lv.1] [4/10] [Grade: Low Slave (3)]
-> +7 Strength (Condition: none) (Penalty: cool down time of 1 hour.)
[Personality/Traits: Brave; Cool Minded; Strong Will; Can do anything for his brother!; Lover]
[Condition: Angered; Tired]
[Satisfied?]
'Yes, immensely. Thank you.'
[Hmph, no need fo...]
As Kian's grip tightened on Misli's tattered garment, a fierce determination blazed in his eyes. However, the tables quickly turned when Misli delivered a forceful headbutt, forcing Kian to stumble backward.
"That was impressive," Kian remarked, a smile spreading across his face, his excitement mounting.
Misli's response carried a tinge of malice, his voice filled with a cold resolve. "Indeed. I hope you remember this pain forever."
"You bastard!" A surge of fury surged through Kian's veins, fueling his adrenaline. With a primal roar, he propelled himself forward, muscles rippling as his hand morphed into a knife-like shape, ready to unleash a devastating strike.
Harnessing his first skill, hand-to-hand combat, Kian lunged forward with a fierce determination. His legs widened into an unconventional stance as his right arm swung with precision, his palm taking on the form of a deadly blade.
Through the air, his swift strike found its mark, connecting with a resounding impact against Misli's shoulder. The force of the blow reverberated through both combatants, momentarily halting the clash as the intensity of the moment hung in the air.
*Boom*
"Arghh!"
A guttural cry escaped Misli's lips as the full force of Kian's strike found its mark. The impact, amplified by Kian's significantly higher strength stat, was nothing short of excruciating.
It was akin to a 1-kilogram stone plummeting onto one's feet from a height of one meter—a vivid image that conveyed the intensity of the pain and potential injury inflicted upon Misli.
Misli's shoulder swelled instantly, the visible sign of trauma indicating potential bone displacement. The excruciating blow left him with a mere sliver of vitality, a mere 5 HP remaining, as he grappled with the searing agony coursing through his body.
Undeterred by the intense pain coursing through his body, Misli summoned his unwavering resolve. He used his first skill. With his adversary well within striking range, he clenched his left fist with a vice-like grip, channeling the entirety of his strength into that singular point. Every fiber of his being coiled, ready to unleash a devastating blow.
With an explosive surge of power, Misli propelled his clenched fist forward, directing its full might straight into Kian's abdomen. The impact reverberated through the air, carrying with it the weight of Misli's determination and the force of his retaliation.
*BOOM*
A thunderous boom echoed through the arena as the force of Misli's punch reverberated, silencing the entire crowd in an instant. The sheer impact was enough to command the attention of all present.
Kian, on the receiving end of the blow, became a human projectile, hurtling through the air for a distance of 5 meters. The audience watched in awe as he soared, seemingly defying gravity, before crashing onto the ground with a resounding thud.
The impact sent him skidding uncontrollably, his body leaving behind a trail of dust and debris as it slid along the perimeter of the 15-meter radius circle that served as the battleground.
Within this arena, devoid of elaborate structures or grand stands, the simple circle acted as the boundary, a hallowed space wherein the fight would unfold.
Any transgression beyond its confines would result in immediate disqualification, heightening the stakes and intensifying the tension that hung thick in the air.
As Kian lay sprawled outside the boundary of the circle, the resounding declaration of victory hung in the air like a triumphant anthem. The crowd erupted into an uproar of cheers and jubilation, their voices intertwining in a deafening chorus of celebration.
"YES!" The collective exclamation reverberated throughout the arena, their voices reaching a crescendo as the realization set in that Misli had emerged as the undeniable victor.
The cheers echoed, growing louder with each passing moment, a testament to the sheer excitement and satisfaction that permeated the atmosphere.
"Yes! Yes!"
"Misli won! Demi, Misli wo-" Babyface's excitement propelled him into a joyful dance of exclamation. However, as his eyes sought out Demitas in the midst of the commotion, he found an empty space where his friend once stood.
"Bro!" Demitas had anticipated the outcome, swiftly springing into action the moment Kian's blow connected with Misli. He darted into the circle, closing the distance to Misli just as the latter succumbed to unconsciousness.
Following suit, Babyface rushed to their aid, carefully lifting Misli in his arms. Together, they made their way towards the wall, providing a place of respite for their fallen comrade as they gently laid him down.
Demitas, his brow glistening with perspiration, was filled with concern, his mind racing to find a solution in the face of the evident swelling.
Meanwhile, Babyface, his expression somber, remained silent, fully aware of the seriousness of the predicament unfolding before them.
'System, what do I do? Bro is injured!' Demitas pleaded desperately.
[Uh? If he's injured, then treat him.]
'But I don't know how to help him.'
'Can't you just provide me with a healing potion like before?' Demitas implored, hoping for a solution.
[Hahahaha. Funny, aren't you now, pleb?]
Confused, Demitas asked, 'Huh? What do you-'
[Do you think I'm some kind of Healing System or something?]
'…'
[Have you already forgotten what I told you earlier?] the Monarch System retorted.
'…'
Demitas fell into a disheartened silence.
[I am the Monarch System. My purpose is to mold you into a Monarch. Any resources I provide are meant for your use alone ]
"…"
Demitas' eyeballs trembled, now not knowing what to do but seeing which, the system revealed yet another thing.
[There is an option to purchase a Healing Potion in the shop, but it's currently locked. Why? Because you haven't completed the fucking tutorial yet!] the system taunted.
[Even if you had, do you possess enough gold coins to afford it? Hahaha]
[Dream on. Your brother's fate is now to live with a disabled arm. Hahaha!]
"…"