The Results of Three Years of Training II

The Battlefield Murderer was a martial style designed to cause mass killings on the battlefield, as its name indicated. However, some of its techniques fit well with one-on-one combat.

Mirage fit perfectly into this category.

This technique involves making the opponent believe you are aiming for a particular part of their body, and at the last moment of your attack, switching the target to one they least expect.

The random and unpredictable nature of this technique made it particularly unstoppable for individuals with similar or lower physical abilities than the user.

That was why the scene of Adall's left leg flying away from his body was currently unfolding.

He, who was preparing to defend his left shoulder against his training partner's attack, after his wave of swords technique had been countered and nullified by him, found himself in an instant with one leg less.

The pain of suddenly losing a limb was excruciating, but he didn't lose his calm and did what was necessary to keep his opponent in his line of sight. He knew his leg would soon regenerate.

And as if the artifact inside his body was reading his thoughts, a green light full of life burst from his wound at that moment and took the form of his missing leg.

A second later, he had two legs again.

While the young man was regrowing his leg, his opponent certainly wasn't going to sit back and enjoy the show.

His leg was still forming when Fercyn appeared again in front of him, brandishing his sword with the intention of using his Mirage technique even more fiercely.

Even though Adall knew that an offensive was the best solution against his friend's Mirage, he still needed to be able to assert himself and force the battle to unfold as he wanted for it to work.

Something he had not managed to do once since the beginning of their confrontation. Indeed, Fercyn was clearly the one deciding on the attack and defense all this time, and he obviously didn't want to lose that privilege.

Adall, therefore, had no choice but to use a defensive technique this time. Fortunately, he knew one that wasn't entirely useless here, even if he didn't like to use it too much.

« Celestial Demon Martial Style - 4th Technique: Instinct Blade »

The Instinct Blade technique involves moving one's body and sword instinctively to block enemy attacks and even counterattack if the situation allows. With the thought process suppressed, the user achieves a better reaction time, granting them better defense.

However, this technique had a major flaw that made Adall hate using it.

Its difficulty of use!

The Instinct Blade was a technique that required suppressing all thought processes in the user. It would automatically deactivate itself at the slightest thought forming in the user's mind.

For someone like Adall who always made sure to think before acting, it was a technique that was very difficult to put into practice and maintain over a long period.

After activating the Instinct Blade, Adall managed to block nearly 70% of the opponent's offense. He still received injuries, but not as severe as losing a leg.

And with the life pearl actively working to get its bearer back on their feet the next instant, the battle quickly turned into an endurance contest that lasted more than an hour before the young boy admitted defeat to the dark elf.

"Haaaaa… haaa… haa… ha… This… is the first… time I've used the Instinct Blade for so long…"

Sitting on the ground and covered in sweat, Adall involuntarily tried to start a conversation with Fercyn.

He had been healed all this time by the life pearl, but as it was an instinctive reaction of his body, the healing did not extend to his fatigue.

He had only been healed of his physical wounds.

Thinking about more detailed effects for his healing would have instantly canceled his Instinct Blade technique. Something he absolutely did not want to do.

"So, Fercyn, what if you tell me now what's going on?"

Fercyn, who was standing and sweating like his friend, looked carefully at him for a few seconds before starting to speak.

"I think it's tonight."

"What tonight? What do you…"

Adall didn't need to finish his question before guessing the answer himself.

Yes! There was something very important they had been waiting to do for three years now.

Something for which he had undergone all this training.

Something he was destined for long before his birth.

Yes! Tonight would be the moment he would receive the matrix to make him a primordial.

Adall tried to force down this feeling of pure happiness welling up in his heart, but he couldn't.

An innocent smile appeared on his face the next moment.

With a voice trembling with joy, he then asked:

"So, this morning, the purchases you made…"

"They were for the operation."

"And the fight?"

"I needed to determine the current limits of your body."

Things became clearer for Adall after he had gone through this little interrogation with his friend.

In particular, the brutality his friend had shown during their training fight.

They had faced each other several times, but never had he gone so far as to cut off a leg.

Moreover, one could almost say he was trying to determine how much suffering the young boy could endure without fainting and how quickly he would heal.

If Adall hadn't obtained the matrix meant to make him a primordial so far, it was because of his physical condition.

According to Orion, he would have exploded on the spot if they had attempted the operation three years ago.

His physical training was meant to minimize this risk and help him better endure the pain. As for the life pearl sealed within him, it was the assurance that he wouldn't die at the first opportunity during the operation.

After realizing that he had satisfied Adall's curiosity, Fercyn put down his training sword and began walking towards the huts that served as their lodging in the forest.

He stopped suddenly in the middle of his path and shouted towards Adall.

"If I remember correctly, it's now 99 matches and therefore 99 defeats for you! Isn't that right, Adall?"

Those few words were enough to instantly wipe away all traces of happiness on the young man's face, leaving only frustration. He even came close to rolling on the ground like a child to evacuate this feeling.

His words were perhaps more painful than his sword blows...