203 An Unparalleled Experience (1/2)

Helial's demonic appearance left Medusa speechless. The boy's pitch black eyes seemed to have brought hell's last will to earth.

Curse of the Demon's edge contained several layers of compressed flames, which exploded in a cascade of sparks as it clashed with the Chakrams.

In ground beneath the feet of the two several cracks spread out, threatening to make them sink.

Medusa felt a tyrannical force push her away effortlessly, and that force came from behind the Great sword, dangerously close to her nose. Was it possible that the King's filthy disciple could possess so much strength? Still, Medusa clearly perceived that he had not passed the Late Stage of the First Phase! Could she be wrong?

As Medusa wondered, Helial continued to move his body's centre of gravity and move his legs quickly, tilting Curse of the Demon at best angle to counter the woman's attack.

Art of the Sword was now in the Master rank and Helial's knowledge of the Way of Sword had reached a much higher level than anyone could have imagined.

Fighting alongside Crater, Efeistio, Alexander and all the other Madoni generals had made him develop his skills tremendously. Therefore, even if Medusa was two Phases above him and was much stronger, the great promise of the Sect of the Worthy could never have achieved the experience Helial possessed.

A dark foreboding enveloped Medusa's mind as she crossed arms with her opponent. What was that horrible feeling...? She had to get rid of it right away, before it could affect her performance.

PUCHI!

The stadium fell into absolute silence.

Medusa looked around. Everyone was silent and she could no longer breathe.

She felt a warm, thick liquid flooding her neck and drenching her clothes.

Plop Plop

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The sand in the arena began to run bright red between Medusa's feet, while her incredulous eyes, fixed first on Helial, slowly moved downwards. No matter how hard she tried, Medusa was unable to bend her head; there was something that prevented her from moving it.

A proud and solemn expression was on Helial's face. ”Did you really think we were going to have a one-on-one fight and that I was stupid enough to put the lives of all my comrades at risk?” said the boy.

With a superhuman effort, Medusa's gaze finally rested on the object that had caused everyone's dismay.

An arrow.

An arrow had penetrated her throat.

Medusa raised a hand and touched her throat at the exact point where the tip of the arrow had pierced it. A desperate expression made its way across her face.

There was no trace of the always proud and full of herself Medusa in her now arched eyebrows and in her lips folded down. There was nothing left but a small woman begging Helial with her eyes. Any attempt to speak was impossible. Her trachea had been pierced by Vlad's arrow.

Caliban opened his eyes and mouth wide, shocked.

”He is no longer a boy,” said Pseudonym.

”He took advantage of every opportunity he could in the clash. Unlike you, instead of using supreme power, he maximized gains and minimized losses. This is a real genius,” laughed Circe.

”Do you believe that such a strategy would work against me?” said Pseudonym sarcastically.

Circe shook her head and didn't answer.

Caliban, deeply incredulous, could not understand how those two geniuses, sitting next to him, could talk so calmly about what had just happened. A real tragedy was unfolding before their eyes.

And in fact, in the grandstand, the big shots had been taken by the same feeling of terrified surprise that Caliban felt.

Cesar had stood up. His blood seemed to be aflame, in front of his disciple's genius.

Aure was still holding a glass of wine mid-air, unable to discern what sensations filled his chest.