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Creation System: Reborn As A Fantasy Worldsmith
Chapter 103 The Art Of Smithing: Forging A Defiant Victory
The jaws of everyone dropped to the floor. This was nothing less than a direct challenge to the robed ones.
'Who are these brats to talk like this to Zoldith and the others!?' Some kids thought to themselves in shock.
'Who do these brats think they are!?' Others thought instead.
Zoldith paused before speaking, "Fine. We won't eliminate them." He suddenly said to everyone's surprise except for Lyrian and Leon.
"Good decision. There is no point in fighting to weaken our own forces." Lyrain said dignantly.
"Yes... you're right. But..." Zoldith paused as Kang, who was still fuming with rage after being pushed back by Lyrian, continued what Zoldith was going to say.
"But you still defied our nobles. You fucks will need to face the consequences of going against those stronger than y--" Kang was abruptly cut off.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Stronger huh? Let's pause on the consequence bullshit. How about we actually see who's stronger first, and then decide if someone should get the consequences or not, and who that should be in the first place." Lyrian said outright.
"Wh-what did you say!? Don't try to question our authority! From birth we are super--" Kang was cut off again.
"If that's right, then let's test it. It will be less of a time waste anyways to have a simple duel between you and me. Whoever wins gets to decide what happens!" Lyrian grinned slightly as he said this, pointing his blade toward Kang.
A surge of anger erupted from Kang's foot up to the top of his head on hearing this. A direct duel request like this in such a situation was the epitome of disrespect.
The crowd was so dazed by shock they were still silent, but Zoldith was more reasonable. "No, of course, we'd deny such a pathetic request from a peasant like you. You don't get to make th--" Suddenly, even Zoldith himself was cut off, but this time, not by Lyrian.
"Fine, you rat! Fight me right here right now!" Kang stomping forward.
"Wha- what!? Kang! What are you doing!" Zoldith shouted in shock. "He is a mere peasant! You dare accept his challenge through his own rules?"
Kang angrily replied, arrogance spewing through him, "That's right! He is just a peasant! One who will get demolished right here!"
Zolidth paused as he heard this for a moment, "Che! Fine! But if you lose, then I won't support you when it comes to the consequences that he chooses." Zoldith retorted angrily.
"Fine! It's not like I'm going to lose to some peasant anyways!" Kang said, standing in the middle of the ground between Zoldith and Cedric, and the others, as Lyrian also stepped forward.
Right now, Alten was in the corner, crying as he thought to himself, 'How in the world did this happen...!?'
When Lyrian arrived about 10 feet away from his opponent, Kang didn't waste any time and dashed forward, his rod in hand. He ran extremely quick, faster than any other opponent Lyrian had to face thus far.
There was no doubt that his ability was monstrous. After reaching two feet from Lyrian, Kang dug his rod into the floor before grabbing onto it and swinging his body as he threw a kick at Lyrian's face.
The speed of the kick was hastened by Kang twisting his body on the rod, but Lyrian was still able to dodge it by ducking down. As he did this, a wave of surprised and impressed sounds coursed through the crowd.
Currently, however, Lyrian wasn't thinking how he usually thought when in a fight. Instead, he was fully in a trance of a flow-like state. This was him trying to use the art of smithing within his fighting style.
The art of smithing wasn't so much a fighting style in itself, but rather something that could be added to any fighting style that made it quicker and cleaner, more smooth and precise. After dodging Kang's kick, he dashed behind him and jabbed his sword forward at the boy's back.
Before it could touch him, Kang took his rod and threw it above him from his back, deflecting Lyrian's blow as it landed back into his hands.
He swung his rod around him several times before swinging it down onto Lyrian's head from above, "Rock Rod!" He yelled as the rod enveloped itself in a stone barrier.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmLyrian dashed to the side to dodge this attack as well, barely being able to avoid being hit. This was when he noticed that in terms of magic prowess, the boy was not amazing at it.
However, he made up for it with superhuman speed and strength.
He felt the flow of battle coursing through him, the art of smithing seamlessly integrated into his every move. His actions were quick, clean, and precise, just like a master blacksmith working on a masterpiece. With each strike he clashed with Kang, he displayed a fluidity that left the audience in awe.
Kang, though momentarily taken aback by Lyrian's display of power, quickly regained his composure. He sneered, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, and launched himself at Lyrian once more.
With a sudden burst of speed, Kang managed to land a glancing blow on Lyrian's shoulder, causing him to stagger backward. The crowd gasped, thinking that the tables might have turned.
But Lyrian's determination only grew. He welcomed the pain as a reminder of the stakes at hand. He wouldn't allow himself to falter.
He saw an opening, a split second where Kang's guard was slightly off after landing his blow. With a swift, precise movement, Lyrian delivered a devastating Shock Fist straight into Kang's abdomen.
The impact was tremendous. Kang's eyes widened in agony, and the force of the blow sent him hurtling through the air. He crashed against the ground, skidding to a stop several feet away.
The arena fell silent, and all eyes were on Kang, who lay motionless on the ground. The robed ones and the rest of the crowd couldn't believe what they had just witnessed.
ραΠdαsΝοvel.cοm Lyrian stood there, his chest heaving from the intense battle. The green aura around his fist slowly dissipated. He hadn't wanted to cause harm to the point that he was eliminated, but he had proven his point when it came to who was really stronger.
Zoldith approached Kang, who was still conscious but clearly defeated.