Chapter 141: Forging a Legion (4)

The clash was no longer confined to the area where the duel had begun. Whenever Orren and the Minotaur moved, the surrounding soldiers stepped back another step, then another, until the spectator circle began to widen on its own.

No one wanted to get closer anymore, as every strike was stronger than the last, and every clash between sword and axe sent sparks flying in all directions, leaving a new scar on the marble floor.

Parts of the ground shattered beneath their feet, and small craters appeared in the places where the heavy blows landed. As the fight continued, the craters began to connect, and the surrounding area turned into uneven ground littered with marble shards.

Amidst all of this, Orren maintained his calm combat style.

He could not use mana or any of his abilities, so he relied entirely on his physical strength and extensive experience.

He watched the movement of the Minotaur’s shoulders and the positioning of his feet, reading the direction of the strike before it was launched, then moving at the exact moment to step out of its path.

But that was not enough.

The Minotaur moved around the training grounds with tremendous speed, constantly changing direction and leaping over the craters left by his previous strikes, only to come at Orren from a new angle before he could even brace himself.

Orren began tracking him with his eyes, but it grew harder with every passing second.

The Minotaur’s strikes were growing faster and heavier, and whenever Orren blocked an attack, he found himself forced to deal with the next one before he could fully recover his stance.

The beast was no longer settling for frontal attacks; it moved around him constantly, utilizing its speed to force him into fighting in multiple directions.

And as time passed, it became difficult to even track its movements.

At one point, the Minotaur appeared to Orren’s right, then vanished before the swing of his sword could reach it. In the next moment, it appeared on his left, then manifested behind him after a long leap.

As its speed increased, three afterimages of it began to appear around the courtyard, moving in different directions before overlapping and disappearing once again.

The circle of spectators widened even further.

The soldiers in the front rows backed away, and some were forced to retreat several steps when one of the Minotaur’s strikes passed near them. No one dared to get as close to the battlefield as they had at the beginning of the duel.

Amidst all this, Orren was doing his utmost to maintain his composure. His eyes kept watching the charging Minotaur, but he did not lose sight of Malrik for a single moment.

Malrik was still standing in his place, his spear in hand, and had not moved or intervened for a while.

Yet, his eyes never left the battlefield. He watched in silence, with the calm of a predator, as if waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

And that was precisely what made Orren even more cautious.

For while the Minotaur pressured him from the front, Malrik remained in the back, silently watching the fight, as if waiting for just one specific moment.

Orren was unable to use mana or any of his abilities, so he relied entirely on his physical strength and combat experience. His eyes followed the movement of the Minotaur’s shoulders and the positioning of his feet, trying to read its attacks before they began.

But the Minotaur was faster than before, and its strikes were heavier. As the clash continued, the pressure began to mount, and Orren found himself needing to exert more of his strength with every block.

The beast left him no room for a counterattack. Whenever he blocked a strike, the Minotaur followed it with another from a different angle, forcing him to retreat and remain on the defensive.

As for Malrik, he stayed away from the clash, watching patiently without interfering, waiting for the moment he saw an opening worth exploiting.

Whenever Orren tried to change his stance or look for an opportunity to counterattack, he had to factor Malrik into his calculations as well.

Signs of exhaustion began to show on him.

Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, and his breathing grew slightly heavier, while the Minotaur showed no sign of slowing down.

As for the circle of spectators, it grew wider with every passing moment.

Everyone watched in silence, and no one uttered a word for fear of missing a moment of the fight.

Orren began to realize that continuing to defend in this manner would not be enough. The Minotaur was increasing in speed and power as the fight wore on, and with every passing second, maintaining the distance between them became harder.

Orren tightened his grip on his sword and shifted his right foot to plant it firmly into the ground, ready to break this deadly rhythm with a powerful physical attack, even without using mana.

But this was exactly the moment Malrik had been waiting for.

From his position a few steps away, Malrik calmly raised his free hand and aimed it at Orren. A ghostly green flame appeared in the palm of his hand, its dim light dancing over his fingers, before he aimed his burning hand directly at his opponent.

In that same instant, the attack struck Orren’s soul directly, bypassing his body and physical defenses without any visible path.

Orren’s body visibly jolted.

As an Ascendant-rank fighter, the attack was not enough to bring him down or inflict true damage to his soul, but it sent a sudden surge of pain through him—a cold, burning sting that struck his soul without warning.

His grip on the sword’s hilt loosened for a moment, and the foot he was preparing for the counterattack halted mid-motion.

It lasted for only a fraction of a second. But in a battle of this speed, that moment was more than enough.

That brief moment of distraction was all the Minotaur needed.

His latent power erupted all at once, and he launched from his spot with tremendous speed. His movement was no longer limited to charging straight at Orren; he changed direction constantly, vanishing from in front of him only to appear on one of his flanks, then charging from another angle before Orren could fully track his movement.

And with every movement, his strikes grew faster and heavier.

Orren’s eyes began catching more than one trace of the beast’s movement around him, until it momentarily seemed to the onlookers as though ten figures of the Minotaur were moving the training grounds at the same time. They were merely afterimages left by its speed, but they were enough to make tracking his true location increasingly difficult.

His rapid movement tore through the air around him, sending powerful gusts of wind toward the soldiers and knights in the front rows, forcing them to step back to shield their faces and bodies.

The area surrounding the fight expanded more and more. The soldiers standing in the front rows retreated, and those behind them backed away as well, until the large circle surrounding the duel began to break apart on its own.

One of the soldiers raised his arms to shield his face, trying to anchor his feet amidst the violent winds.

"What is that thing?!"

To Orren, it felt as if the courtyard had been filled with dozens of copies of the Minotaur, circling him in a whirlwind of axes and blinding speed that swallowed every inch of space for escape or maneuvering.

Suddenly, the whirlwind stopped.

All the afterimages vanished in an instant, and the Minotaur disappeared from the ground.

For a moment, no one knew where it had gone.

The soldiers looked around in confusion, searching the battlefield, but there was no sign of the beast anywhere.

Then a voice suddenly rang out from the crowd.

"Look! It’s in the sky!"

Everyone immediately raised their heads.

High above the training grounds, the Minotaur’s massive body hung in the sky, far beyond where anyone had expected it to be.

A terrifying silence fell over the training grounds for a single second.

Then, the blue-green markings etched across the Minotaur’s chest and arms ignited with a brilliant glow, its light illuminating the sky over the training grounds.

And suddenly, the beast began to fall.

It plummeted from the sky with tremendous speed, holding its two axes together in front of it, while a dense aura of black and green energy enveloped its body. The energy tore through the air around it, producing a sharp screech, as the pressure generated by its descent increased with every passing moment.

The scene no longer resembled an ordinary monster’s attack.

It looked as though a massive meteorite was descending from the sky, surrounded by intense pressure that tore through the air around it. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the falling beast.

Orren’s gaze remained locked on the Minotaur.

The attack was coming straight for him.