Chapter 641: Similar Beasts

"Mother of—these kids..."

The moment blade and sword collided on the platform, the protective formation guarding the arena activated instantly, sealing every last ripple of aftermath inside. Even so, Pink Bear still couldn’t help shrinking his neck back hard and muttering, "I feel like I should scam that brat a little less from now on. If he ever decides to chop me up later, I don’t think I’d even have the strength to fight back."

"If you want people to believe you when you say that kind of nonsense, you should start by throwing away those little booklets in your hands."

Beside him, Hathaway pushed up her glasses and shot back dryly. But when she turned her head, she didn’t hide her own astonishment at the collision either.

"Still... seriously, these two are a little too abnormal. With this kind of commotion, it’s really hard to believe the ones fighting are only two fourth-rank warriors."

"Hey, geniuses who can fight above their rank show up a few times every era. Like that ‘Innate Two Hearts’ thing, for example."

Pink Bear shrugged, stuffed the pamphlets into his chest, then glanced in a certain direction and chuckled.

"But the way this looks... someone’s not sleeping tonight."

...

...

"Your Highness."

"..."

"Your Highness."

"..."

"Your Highness!"

"Ah, Teacher."

Only after being called three times in a row did Milne finally come back to himself. "Y-You ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) came, Teacher."

"Don’t sink too deep into it."

Hertz’s expression was stern. "Victory and defeat in battle aren’t determined by the power of a move alone! Experience, instinct, decisiveness—those things can tilt the scales too!"

"I... I’m not, Teacher is overthinking it, I—"

Milne drew a deep breath. He tried to put on that reassuring smile again, only to realize the resting room was even quieter than he’d imagined.

When he turned his head, no one was paying attention to his smile anymore. Other than him, who had been jolted awake by his teacher, everyone else was fully immersed in that clash of blade and sword. The brilliance woven out of their collision had become a grand tapestry here, and any young person who hungered for the next step forward was pouring their whole mind into watching.

"They’re making a big show of it, yes, but it also proves they’re being careless."

Hertz forced himself to keep his composure. He walked to the edge of the viewing platform and commented from above.

"To use moves this obviously meant as trump cards so easily—this is arrogance. You only need to seize this opportunity and think of how to respond. With Your Highness’s talent, defeating them won’t be difficult."

"Teacher is wise. I thought the same."

Milne nodded seriously.

"It looks like these two have been looking forward to this duel for a long time. In their eyes, it’s like I, a prince of the kingdom, don’t even exist—so they come in using full power right away."

"But because of that, they’ll reveal flaws soon."

A sharp glint flashed in Milne’s eyes as he continued. "Moves like this must consume a great deal. It’ll be hard to recover to full condition by tomorrow, and once a trump card is revealed, even the most terrifying beast has basically exposed its softest belly. You could say they’re not far from defeat."

"Exactly."

Hertz stroked his beard with satisfaction, thinking: as expected of my most outstanding disciple. Even facing strong enemies, he finds a way to break the situation in the shortest time.

"Then... tomorrow—"

"The one who wins will still be me!"

Milne’s confident expression returned, and he and Hertz exchanged a smile.

It was just that as the two of them kept pointing out the others’ weaknesses and discussing how to win tomorrow, they seemed to have completely forgotten...

The two people in the arena right now were originally the ones they had looked down on—people they believed would rack their brains trying to figure out how to beat them, even to the point of using despicable methods.

And now...

It had flipped completely.

They were the ones thinking about how to win with despicable methods.

Of course, before any discussion about “what methods to use” could take shape, the more important fact was that even now...

That match still didn’t seem to be over.

...

...

The plains... could no longer be called plains.

To this region, the enormous crater was like a gluttonous girl scooping a huge spoonful out of ice cream—simple and brutal, changing the terrain outright.

All the lush green had been dried out by that scorching heat. Even the roots, stubborn as they were, had been flung everywhere with the dust and shattered stones. After that collision of blade and sword, it was as if the scene had switched to a completely different set—there wasn’t a single trace left of the green wilderness from before.

Everything fell quiet again, leaving only burning scraps drifting down like snow.

Everyone forgot to cheer for that shocking, splendid collision. They forgot to shout for the person they cared about. Their eyes were locked tight on the ruined horizon below.

They were waiting.

Who won?

Muen Campbell?

Or Ariel Bugaard?

Or... did both of them—

Crack.

Just as everyone held their breath, the sound of a pebble being crushed underfoot rang out in this silent battlefield—so clear it felt like it cut the air.

The dust dispersed.

And the figure that emerged was...

Ariel.

She clutched an injured arm, dragging her flowing-gold greatsword as she stumbled out.

Dust and blood streaked her pretty face. Several new slash marks had been added to her academy uniform. Blood ran from the wounds, making her look utterly battered.

But she was still the one standing.

Which meant she was the final victor—

"Can you still stand?"

Before the audience’s cheers for the winner could even rise, Ariel suddenly spat out those words.

She didn’t look happy like a victor. The excitement and fighting intent in her eyes hadn’t weakened in the slightest. She looked like a beast staring dead at its prey.

"Hah. That question’s a little insulting, isn’t it?"

Another laugh sounded.

Inside the curtain of dust, a thin—yet still solid—figure rose, little by little.

Like it was putting a period on an outcome no one expected.

Neither of them had fallen back.

Ariel lightly twisted her greatsword. A gust of wind pressure blew away the remaining dust, revealing Muen as well.

He looked even more miserable than Ariel.

The clothes on his upper body had been completely shredded, reduced to scraps of cloth flying with the dust—because a ferocious wound ran straight across his chest with brutal clarity.

It was an injury that would leave an ordinary person dying. You could even faintly see pale ribs. Yet Muen was still standing like this, still able to smile.

"You’re going too far. Opening with your ultimate right away—are we even allowed to have fun?"

As he spoke, he brushed a hand over the wound on his chest and sighed.

"Sure enough, head-on brute-force clashes aren’t my strong suit."

"Then why did you clash head-on with me?"

Ariel raised a brow. "With the speed you just showed, you could’ve dodged."

"Dodge? Of course I could. But if I dodged, how would I know the gap in certain areas? Then this fight would lose its meaning, wouldn’t it?"

"What am I to you? A whetstone?"

Ariel snorted.

"A whetstone? I wouldn’t dare. If a small body like mine gets ground a few times by someone as solid as steel like you, I’d lose layers of skin. I might even snap in half."

"Hah?"

Ariel’s eyes widened as she snapped, "You bastard, you’ve been talking about plains and steel since earlier—what are you mocking exactly?"

"...No, no, no, you misunderstood."

Muen’s mouth twitched. He thought to himself that this girl’s instincts really were terrifyingly sharp, but he still put on an utterly sincere expression.

"I’m just praising how strong you are. I absolutely don’t have any other intentions."

"Is that so... I’ll believe you for now. But speaking of that, I’m the one who should be praising you."

Ariel lowered her lashes, as if she’d remembered something. Her expression turned complicated.

"If I look at you from a year ago, I never would’ve imagined you’d really stand on the same arena as me. I thought I’d leave you—someone who had nothing but family background—far behind."

"But I’m standing here, aren’t I?"

Muen said, "You didn’t shake me off."

"...Hah. Yeah. You’re already standing here. Not only did I fail to shake you off, you even narrowed the distance—and it’s only been one year. So what’s the point of saying all that?"

Did they need to say all that?

Of course not.

Just fight.

A lot of things became clearer when you used blood and blades to talk.

Ariel’s expression tightened. She suddenly pointed her sword at Muen and demanded, "Muen Campbell—can you keep going?"

Muen froze for a moment, then smiled as he answered, "Of course. After probing, naturally we get serious, don’t we? Injuries like this don’t even count as scratching an itch for people like us."

Muen raised a hand and wiped across the wound on his chest.

Deep in his pupils, a profound black flickered—and what made the scalp crawl was that as his hand passed over that ferocious wound, it vanished into nothing.

Like it had been swallowed by something.

Ariel wasn’t surprised at all. Instead, her smile grew even more delighted.

"Instant recovery? Good... very good. I can do it too!"

Before the words even finished, the wounds on Ariel’s body wriggled and healed at a speed visible to the naked eye—no slower than Muen’s wipe. In the blink of an eye, she was fully restored. If not for the bloodstains still left behind, you wouldn’t even be able to tell she’d been injured.

Muen had his devouring-conversion power of black flame.

Then what was Ariel using?

Muen gave a faint, mocking smile, then quickly gave up trying to remember which ability out of Ariel’s countless skills in the original book was the one for recovery.

There was no need.

Because there was no need to separate which was which. In a full-power duel, every usable power would come out.

Muen raised both hands. Elizabeth flew up on its own and dropped into his palms.

He took a deep breath.

Aside from black flame—which wasn’t suitable to use in front of so many eyes—what powers could he use?

The ones he’d struggled to obtain up to now.

The ones he’d gained through a path of battle.

The ones he’d seized at the edge of death, gambling his life.

The ones proven with blood and fire—

All of them.

Boom.

A low, heavy hum rang out. But this time it wasn’t thunder—it was more like countless war drums echoing.

Those sounds came from within Muen, like a hundred hearts beating together. Every muscle trembled with excited resonance, proclaiming the strength he’d earned through ceaseless training.

Across his bare upper body, lines of intricate golden patterns began to surface, gradually assembling into a precise, profound matrix. Surging magic power ran through it, feeding the sun-hot alchemical core.

And now, besides the two “suns” that were already blazing bright, a third alchemical core began to brighten as well amid the growing roar.

Muen’s presence climbed higher and higher. His realm was still at fourth-rank early stage, unchanged—but the pressure leaking out of every motion was a full tier higher than it had been in the earlier collision.

It made many people disbelieve again.

So even that blade-and-sword collision hadn’t been his full power?

"...So that’s it. Not that he wasn’t going all-out—he improved again on the spot."

Ariel saw through Muen’s state at a glance, because the sense of déjà vu was too strong. Many times before, when facing enemies, she had been exactly like this.

And now the sides had switched, making her feel...

Novel. And thrilled.

"So that’s how it is. You don’t look like someone who can be easily beaten right now. In that case... I don’t need to hold back either!"

Ariel slammed her greatsword into the ground in front of her.

【Boiling Blood!】

A trace of blood-red rose across Ariel’s face. Unlike Muen, whose change was only presence, Ariel’s realm actually stepped upward, rising again and again until it stopped at the threshold of fifth rank.

But it wasn’t over.

【No-Self.】

【True Transformation.】

【Dragon Scales.】

【Beast Heart.】

【Divine Intent.】

Buff after buff poured into Ariel’s slender body.

Her overall qualities skyrocketed in a mad surge over just a few breaths.

【Ancient Magic · Void Heaven Armor.】

【Ancient Magic · Domain of Chaotic Law.】

【Ancient Magic...】

Once all the buffs finished stacking, Ariel was wrapped in layers of halos. She looked like some pay-to-win player who had crawled out of a trashy online game, covered in every kind of light-pollution effect.

She lifted her head and looked at Muen.

Muen’s cheek twitched faintly, and he quickly pressed it down.

They stared at each other again.

This time, there truly was no need for more words.

A pebble that had been knocked loose when Ariel drove her greatsword into the ground was slowly falling.

In their silent stare—

Pa.

It finally hit the ground.

Like a starting signal, both figures vanished at once.

The calm airflow was violently disrupted, swelling, gathering—until it became a raging gale.

And inside the phantom of that gale, blade-light and sword-shadows collided again and again—collision, collision, collision!

Fire scattered. Thunder roared.

Ordinary people couldn’t even glimpse their bodies clearly. They could only barely keep up with the lingering aftermath.

And every time they collided, a terrifying mark was left in the surroundings. The All-Phenomena Simulation let out a kind of wail, as if it were starting to buckle under the load.

But this was no longer a simple exchange like earlier, like two sides firing beams at each other.

This was experience, power, speed, and every enhancement—all fused into each exchange of moves.

Blood sprayed. Flesh tore open.

Yet whenever they paused, there was not the slightest fear or hesitation. They plunged fully into this heart-thundering battle.

No—this was no longer battle.

This was two beasts obeying instinct, using fangs and claws, tearing into each other in a forgetful slaughter.