BXBX NOVEL Chapter 767 Elara's Fighter II
Chapter 767 Elara\'s Fighter II
But his doubts were swiftly dispelled when the imposing figure of his opponent materialized just about fifty meters in front of him. The realization hit him hard: this was no hallucination. Aron had actually dared to pose the question, choosing not to exploit the distraction caused by the fighter\'s pain and his own efforts to motivate himself.
“What do you mean by that?” the Elara fighter asked, trying to buy himself time to recuperate and heal some of his injuries while formulating a new strategy. It was like hitting seven birds with one stone, but it all hinged on whether his opponent would indulge him and answer his questions.
Aron, seemingly unfazed by the fighter\'s plight, replied, “Do you know the losses I incurred from the defeat of the four fighters and the death of the Feryn?” The Elara fighter stared at him in disbelief, momentarily stunned, as if questioning whether he had truly heard Aron correctly. Rather than celebrating this unexpected opportunity, he remained dumbfounded, failing to recognize that the Terran Emperor was granting him time to recover.
Ignoring the fighter’s shocked expression, Aron continued, “They were valuable research materials that could have advanced our understanding of alien life forms.”
“If you wanted the bodies for research, why did you blow up the first four fighters consecutively, despite knowing the risk that would pose after the second one?” Kalthar, the Elara fighter, inquired. Had it not been for the armor covering his skin—a skin with racial ability that served as a live telegrapher of emotions for the Elara race—Aron would have witnessed a swirling display of colors reflecting the tumultuous feelings surging within Kalthar. In that moment, the fighter was grappling with a multitude of emotions that he could scarcely articulate if asked.
“What is your name? Since we’re having a conversation, I need to know how to address you,” Aron replied, deflecting Kalthar\'s earlier question.
The Elara fighter, paused, surprised by the unexpected query. “Weird question to ask in the current situation, but my name is Kalthar,” he said, deciding that the strength of his opponent warranted the revelation of his name.
“Are you related to Xalthar?” Aron asked, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise at the similarity between their names, with only a single letter differentiating them.
“No, we are not related in the least,” Kalthar replied, his tone tinged with irritation. Despite his efforts to mask his displeasure at the comparison to that foolish man, it was evident to anyone with keen ears.
“Anyway,” Aron continued, unfazed by Kalthar’s tone, “to answer your question: they died because they couldn\'t withstand a certain threshold that would have made them interesting enough for research, which was only met with the opponent before you. However, I had to end it quickly to prevent further complications. And as you know, due to the rules the referee later forced me to eliminate him to conclude the fight.
For research purposes, you are more valuable alive than dead. That’s why I’m offering you the chance to surrender—something the fighter before you didn’t have because he was incapacitated.” he paused for a moment before he asked for the second time “Are you willing to surrender?” bringing their brief discussion to a sudden halt.
Another moment of silence hung in the air as Kalthar appeared deep in thought, weighing the offer before him.
But before long, his answer came in the form of a sudden BOOM—an explosion of a spell he had conjured, launched at Aron with lightning speed, taking advantage of their close proximity to unleash the attack in less than a second.
Without pausing, Kalthar unleashed one spell after another, determined to deny Aron even a moment to think or raise his sword for a counterattack. He aimed to prevent Aron from launching another devastating strike like the first one, which he assumed would require significant recharge and preparation time. Instead, Kalthar sought to force Aron into a defensive position, relying on his sword to parry the relentless barrage of attacks.
As he cast his spells, several hovered around him, actively absorbing ambient mana from the atmosphere to amplify their power for optimal use at the right moment. For more than thirty seconds, this pattern continued.
With each passing second, Kalthar\'s confidence surged, stabilizing his mentality and accelerating his casting speed even further. He could see a glimmer of hope in winning the fight as he kept the pressure on, noticing that Aron was being pushed back under the relentless assault.
As Kalthar ramped up his attacks, he began to time them strategically to exploit the openings created when Aron had to parry. Each spell was aimed at the opposite side of where Aron’s sword would end up after blocking the previous attack, forcing him into rapid movements that wore him down. Kalthar noticed the slight decrease in Aron’s speed; while minor, it was just enough to give him the opportunity he needed.
Seizing the moment, Kalthar launched a spell toward Aron’s right, where his sword was held. This forced Aron to parry upward, giving Kalthar the chance to follow up with one of the three spells that had been gathering mana from the atmosphere. This time, he aimed not for the farthest target but directly at Aron’s wrist, intending to knock the sword from his grasp.
Aron reacted swiftly, lowering his wrist just in time for the spell to explode against the sword. He expertly redirected the force of the blast away from his body, but before he could fully recover from this initial explosion, Kalthar unleashed the second spell that had been absorbing ambient mana. With Aron still focused on the remnants of the first attack, his reaction to this second explosion was delayed. The blast sent both the sword and Aron himself flying in opposite directions.
“DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Kalthar screamed, seizing the moment as he activated the third spell—the one that had absorbed the most ambient mana from the atmosphere. He poured every ounce of his remaining mana into it, knowing this was his best chance to turn the tide of the battle.
The air crackled with energy, and a series of sharp, rapid sounds pierced the atmosphere—ZTSTTSTSTS—each one signaling the impending storm of destruction. For those who could compute the signals, it was clear that this would be a lightning attack of unprecedented intensity. The heat generated upon impact would reach temperatures between 30,000 and 50,000 degrees Celsius, making it five times hotter than the surface of the sun.
With Aron still reeling from the previous explosions and separated from his weapon, Kalthar’s attack unleashed a blinding flash of light that illuminated the battlefield, marking the culmination of his desperate bid for victory. The force of the lightning bolt surged forward, carrying with it the promise of devastation.
Just as the attack began its furious journey toward him, Aron finally landed on the ground after executing a flawless flip in mid-air, ensuring he would touch down on his feet. As he regained his balance, his eyes locked onto the impending lightning bolt, now mere moments away from impact. The sheer intensity of the energy crackling in the air made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
He immediately extended his left hand forward, fingers pointed at the lightning, mimicking a gunslinger aiming his weapon. At the same time, his right hand mirrored the gesture, racing toward his left hand, which was now drawing in the electrifying energy. Just as his right hand reached his left, lighting finally reached his left-hand fingers.
Aron using his two right-hand fingers began to trace the lightning through his left hand and across his chest, channeling its raw power. He then immediately pointed his right hand back at Kalthar, with a final gesture, he redirected the lightning back at Kalthar, which at the moment looked to be at least ten times more potent than it was originally.
The bolt streaked through the air with blinding speed, its crackling energy illuminating the battlefield. It pierced through Kalthar\'s armor as if it were made of paper, creating a gruesome hole in his lower abdomen. Nôv(el)B\\\\jnn
Before Kalthar could even show a reaction to the turn of events, he slowly started falling face-first to the ground.
{Match over. Winner: Terran Empire, Aron Michael.}