An Understated Dominance

“Haha… He won. Venerable Truce won!”

“At least he took that guy down. Venerable Truce is awesome!”

“Though he lost, he should feel honored for holding out against Venerable Truce for that long.”

The entire arena cheered as the spectators watched Jeremiah get slammed into the battle ring by Truce’s Vengeful Gaze. Dragonmarsh spectators jumped to their feet to give Truce a thunderous applause.

The first fight of the day was nothing short of electrifying. Both sides went all out as they traded blow for blow in a showdown that left the spectators on the edge of their seats. Their excitement reached a fever pitch.

This was what a martial artist’s duel should look like.

“Phew… Is it over?” Truce wiped the sweat from his brow and began to relax. The killing move had drained him, but it was worth it since he had defeated Jeremiah.

But just as the crowd’s cheers filled the air, the rubble in the center of the battle ring began to tremble. Small chunks of stones at the top slowly slid down and created a faint clatter.

“Hmm?” Truce frowned as a wave of unease washed over him.

In the next second, the pile of rubble exploded. A cloud of stone dust filled the air, and it rained down like a shower of ash.

Jeremiah, covered in black scales with eyes glowing red, emerged from the thick cloud of dust.

His low, sinister laugh echoed through the venue. His eyes, once human, had transformed into slitted, beast-like pupils-crimson and filled with savage fury. He looked like a demon incarnate.

With each step he took, the damaged scales and wounds on his body healed at an astonishing rate. By the time he emerged from the crater, he was fully healed. At that instant, his presence was even more ferocious than before.

“You… You’re still alive?” Truce’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He had just poured every ounce of his energy into that strike. It was his ultimate move that no one below an ultimate grandmaster could withstand. Yet, Jeremiah was still standing, unscathed.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

The spectators were stunned into silence, The cheers and applause abruptly stopped as everyone stared in disbelief.

They had witnessed Truce’s final strike -a blow as unstoppable as a mountain’s descent. Even the battle ring made from Abyssal stone had been blasted into a deep crater.

A direct hit like that should have turned Jeremiah into a bloody smear. But he was unscathed. Just how terrifying was his defense?

“You’ve forced me to use my second form. Impressive. But unfortunately, it’s still not enough.” Jeremiah sneered and bared his razor-sharp teeth.

He continued, “You’ve had your chance. Now, it’s my turn.”

Before the words had even left his lips, he vanished into a blur. He moved so fast that even an ordinary martial artist could barely track him.

“Watch your back!! someone yelled from the crowd.

Truce’s eyes widened in alarm. He instinctively turned and threw a punch. But midway through, a deadly claw pierced through his chest.

The claw punctured through his back and emerged from his chest, with blood trickling down the claw’s tip. What began as a few drops quickly became a steady stream.

“Ugh…” Truce’s body trembled as he went rigid with shock.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he looked down at the claw impaling him. His mind went blank, but he could faintly see a pulsating red mass within the claw’s grip.

“Is that… my heart?” The horrifying realization struck him. He struggled to keep his eyes open and was desperate to see what was in the claw.

But in the next instant, the claw tightened and crushed the object within with brutal force.

All strength seemed to drain from Truce. His body went limp, and his vision darkened.

“The scent of blood is so intoxicating,” Jeremiah said with a wicked grin. He flicked his wrist and sent Truce’s lifeless body flying several yards before it crashed outside the battle ring.

A heavy thud echoed through the venue as Truce’s body hit the ground like a discarded sandbag. Blood spilled out and spread in a grotesque, irregular pool of red.

Silence fell over the crowd in stunned disbelief.

Everyone gaped at Truce’s lifeless form. They could hardly believe what had just happened. Just moments before, he had seemed poised for victory. Now, he lay dead.

The entire sequence had been so abrupt that no one had time to react. Truce, renowned for his Adamantine Body Art and reputedly impenetrable defense, had just been killed by a single strike?

How was this even possible?