Chapter 572: Overlord Armor Inheritance

Lord Harthorne’s eyes narrowed with a glint of surprise as he watched Garry’s body undergo a stunning transformation, his figure now cloaked in a metallic armor that seemed to shimmer with an oppressive power.

“Is that the Overlord Armor inheritance?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity and a hint of awe.

Simon, standing beside him, couldn’t hide his pride and nodded with a proud smile. “It is indeed,” he confirmed, almost boasting. “Garry has finally reached the level where he can summon it, even if only for a short time. It’s a sign of mastery.”

Lady Virelia, who had been observing silently until now, finally spoke. “The Overlord Inheritance… one of the three supreme-class inheritances in all of Hundred Battle City,” she remarked, her gaze fixed on the battlefield. “I’ve heard it’s comparable to the Flame Tyrant Inheritance—perhaps even greater.”

Lord Harthorne smiled faintly, folding his arms. “Well then, let’s see how the battle unfolds from here.”

Meanwhile, Simon’s smile grew broader, almost smug, as if the Seven Colored Lotus was already within his grasp.

Down in the arena, the pressure was suffocating. Garry, now radiating an overwhelming aura that surged like wildfire, bared his teeth as he stared at his opponent. “This time, you will die for sure,” he declared, trying to smirk through the immense strain.

But Max wasn’t fooled. His sharp eyes instantly caught the trembling edges of Garry’s stance, the barely-hidden exhaustion beneath the bravado.

The Overlord Armor might have multiplied his strength, but it was devouring his energy like a bottomless pit.

Max knew—it was a gamble. One moment of hesitation, one misstep, or even a slight crack in the armor’s integrity, and the entire form would collapse. Garry was burning bright, yes—but a flame that fierce was bound to flicker out fast.

Garry dashed like a streak of black lightning, his Overlord Armor blazing with molten energy as his sword carved arcs through the air. Each strike came with the intent to kill—fast, precise, heavy. And yet, none landed.

Max stood calmly amidst the storm as his hands burst into black flames slowly transforming into claws using the Flame Tyrant inheritance as he blocked Garry’s swords.

Every swing of Garry’s flaming sword was met with a clean parry or deflection, the black claws sparking on contact but never faltering. The sheer contrast between them became clearer with every clash—Garry’s form screamed power but leaked instability.

Each motion of his overloaded armor sent cracks of wild energy into the floor, flickering dangerously, while Max’s movements were composed and calculated, his every step and gesture flowing with the grace of complete mastery.

“Armor Penetration Sword!” Garry roared, his voice booming across the arena as he unleashed one of his most powerful sword techniques.

His entire body tensed as he surged forward with incredible speed, the sword in his hands glowing with condensed force and deadly precision. It didn’t slice, didn’t swing—it thrust forward in a straight, merciless line, like a spear aimed directly at Max’s heart.

The air around the blade trembled as if space itself was being pierced.

Max’s eyes narrowed, fully aware of the danger packed into that single move. ‘This attack is strong,’ he thought calmly, his instincts kicking in.

But he didn’t flinch. Instead, he brought his hands together, two of his jet-black claws crossing in front of his chest in a simple but firm guard.

And then, it came—the impact.

Bang!

A sharp, explosive sound cracked through the air as Garry’s sword slammed against Max’s claws. But to Garry’s shock and Simon’s disbelief, neither of the two combatants moved even a step. The Overlord Armor, the momentum, the force—none of it mattered.

The devastating sword technique that had been meant to pierce through defenses and armor alike… had stopped cold. It was as if Max’s claws were carved from something beyond metal, beyond reason.

And just like that, the unstoppable thrust was stopped—not by brute force, but by unshakable defense. Garry’s hands trembled slightly, realizing that even one of his best techniques had failed to make Max budge.

“Damn!” But Garry didn’t give up and carry on with his attacks however no matter how many times he adjusted his stance or switched the angle of his strikes, or use any strong techniques Max was always one step ahead.

The pressure only grew as Max didn’t even seem to be using his full strength.

His flame-covered arms moved not like a fighter under duress, but like a teacher disciplining a student—measured, confident, effortless. Max’s Three Dimensional Body allowed him to perceive each of Garry’s movements before they were even completed, making every strike predictable.

Garry gritted his teeth, sweat trailing down his face, the toll of his second move catching up with him. He had wanted to crush Max with sheer power, but now that very power was crumbling under its own weight. The energy around his armor was already flickering, and his blade was trembling.

Max finally opened his mouth and said quietly, “That was your second move.”

Just then, the brilliant armor of condensed flame that had wrapped around Garry like a second skin began to crack, flicker, and then crumble entirely, breaking apart into glowing embers that vanished into the air.

The once fearsome Overlord Armor disintegrated right before everyone’s eyes, revealing the harsh truth—his mastery over the inheritance was far from complete, more of a glimpse into its power than true control.

Garry’s eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, and his expression twisted with distress and disbelief. ‘Who the hell is this guy?’ he thought, staring at Max, who still stood there calmly as if nothing that had happened so far had even required real effort.

Garry knew very well that Max was only at Seeker Rank level 7, far below the peak of the Expert Rank where he stood. And yet, every one of his attacks—attacks that should have overwhelmed any opponent in his rank—had been blocked, countered, or rendered useless.

On the other side of the arena, Simon’s expression had drained of all color. His face was pale, his hands trembling slightly, and beads of sweat rolled down his temple.

He had been so sure—so confident—that the Overlord Armor would be enough to crush Max. But not only had Garry failed to land a blow, he hadn’t even managed to put a scratch on him.

‘How… how could someone still at the Seeker Rank possess such strength… strength that even a peak Expert Rank genius like Garry couldn’t overcome?’ Simon’s thoughts spiraled in shock and disbelief.

This wasn’t just a setback. If Garry lost here, it would be catastrophic—not just the endless humiliation that would follow him into the Black Dragon Palace, but worse, he would lose the Counter Mirror, a precious treasure Simon had desperately wanted to protect.

And now, that very treasure, that prized possession, hung in the balance of a duel that seemed more and more one-sided with each passing moment.

Even worse, with the humiliation he would suffer this time, his chances of being chosen as one of thirty-six Compound Master would also be affected.

‘Damn!’ Simon cursed silently as he turned to look at Virelia who was calmly watching the battle.

‘It couldn’t be…’ He understood at this moment that from the beginning it wasn’t him that played Virelia but both Lord Harthorne and Virelia played him into a fool.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!