Chapter 325: Rhythm of the Single-Drop Ocean
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The sound of intense fighting coming from where the Black Werewolf King had kicked Clute indicated that at least one duel was still ongoing. As for the duel between Sila and Anubis, there was no response. The fact that no one had come back implied that it was ongoing though. Regardless, Burapha’s mind was deeply concentrating on his own duel. The outcome of the other duels could no longer affect his state of mind.
A minute had passed, but Revin still showed no sign of wanting to separate himself from the red throne. He simply opened his system window and checked its contents as if his opponent didn't deserve his attention. Truthfully, though, he was testing Burapha’s patience, tempting the man to attack so he could end it with a decisive counterattack.
Contrary to Revin’s expectations, however, Burapha became even calmer. His art relied on using stillness to subdue motions. Even when his or his friends’ lives were on a thin border between life and death, keeping his cool was an absolute must. He must be as calm as an ocean, encircling lands with his embrace.
For some matters, slower will be faster. Sila had taught Burapha this concept.
Revin was more experienced, stronger, and had a higher level than him. Thus, Burapha couldn’t afford to put himself into a more unfavorable situation, no matter how trivial it would be, including abandoning his strong point and going up to attack.
“Your name is... Burapha, right?” Revin started a conversation. “The first time we met, it was in Zhongsuyuan City. Unexpectedly, it will also be the last.”
“This encounter may not be our last though. Who knows? We may meet again after the war event.”
“Nah. All of us, Montra, Kawin, and I, already gave our word to the other guilds affiliated with us that we will disband the guild regardless of the war event’s outcome. Then, we will quit the game.”
In fact, Burapha had heard the rumors from Beluga and the game forum. With Revin’s confirmation, he now knew that Montra and his gang were serious about it.
The Heavenly Dragon Guild was among the earliest guilds founded in Monster Soul. It always ranked as the number one guild, possessing the greatest manpower and influence. The amount of profit that they had made and would make must be astronomical. As a merchant, he didn’t understand why Montra would abandon such a big source of revenue for nothing.
“I see... so this is the last time.”
Revin nodded. “Yep. You won’t get another opportunity.”
Burapha inwardly screamed, ‘What a sly move!’ in his mind. On the surface, it might look like Revin was babbling pointlessly. However, it was actually a mind game, pressuring Burapha to believe that this was a deathmatch with everything on the line. Kill or be killed. There was no third option, mentally blocking the option of escape.
True, Burapha didn’t have any desire to escape from the very start. However, having options and having no choice obviously put different kinds of pressure on him.
Revin smirked and suddenly stood up. He gently stroked his heavy sword, showing many openings. Nevertheless, Burapha was aware that those were traps. Even if he rushed at Revin, it wasn’t guaranteed that he could succeed at delivering the first strike. Revin’s speed was quite high.
Every time Burapha encountered Revin, the latter seemed to always change his main weapons. He used his inspection skill to identify the heavy sword in Revin’s hand from afar and found that it was the S-grade Lamentable Dragon Sword, which was a weapon bound to its master. It didn’t have any special options though.
An S-grade weapon with no options? Burapha doubted it. He raised his vigilance. There must be something fishy about that sword.
“Don’t waste any more time. Come. I still have to severely punish those players in Zhongsuyuan City later. Examples must be set, or else they won’t realize how much trouble they have caused.”
Burapha tightened his grip on the lance. His ring, which Lala was sealed inside, let out a faint glow.
“You must know those players were tricked by us to cause a riot. Don’t you think they are guiltless?”
“Guiltless?” Revin chuckled. “How innocent you are. Everyone in the world is always guilty. Even if they don’t commit crimes, they are still guilty for not stopping the criminals. Even if they do try to stop, they are still guilty of being unable to stop them. If someone argues that they are clueless about crimes so they can’t possibly stop them, they are still guilty for not doing anything. A kind kingdom where everyone lives oh-so-peacefully only exists in cheap melodramatic novels that adults write to trick kids. The real world is not and won’t ever be like that.”
Burapha didn’t agree. “Some people are trying their hardest to make the world a better place though. That kind of person does exist. The world in your perspective is too dark.”
“Rather, it’s the world in your perspective that is too shallow. People do good things to fish for compliments. Furthermore, them doing good deeds doesn’t always mean they have good intentions. Even if they do, it still doesn’t mean those on the receiving end will feel good about it. Well, for argument’s sake, even if the result becomes win-win, it’s still an act of seeking self-benefit. Even if they sincerely desire nothing material in return, at the very least, they still subconsciously hope to get the warm and fuzzy feelings from doing it.”
If put that way, Revin’s world really wouldn’t have even a single ‘good person’. Burapha was curious. It was a wonder how the same world could be so different when looking from different angles.
Revin held his heavy sword. “That’s why... the only things I trust in my world are myself and the sword in my hand.”
Once his hand touched the hilt, bits of the blade started to fall off, letting out a lamenting cry. Revin’s magic power poured into the sword, then the sword converted it to qi. The sound of the blade slowly chipping away was so sad that it was heartbreaking. Every time a dent appeared on the blade, Burapha would feel so sorrowful that tears dwelled in his eyes.
“The Lamentable Dragon Sword. I got it from a special quest. Only I can wield it. Every time I use it, it will gradually implode.”
Such a negative option implied that one shouldn’t underestimate the power of the sword. The more serious and permanent the downside of an item was, the more powerful it would be.
Nevertheless, Burapha, too, was confident in his Eastern Sea Evil Lance. His pure psychic power flew into the black lance, causing the golden letters on it to glow. Only when battling against an opponent of the dragon race would the lance display its maximum potential.
Burapha dismissed every unnecessary thought. His mind focused solely on a droplet of water in his sea of consciousness. Although it was a single droplet, its size was as large as an ocean.
“Rhythm of the Single-Drop Ocean.”
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There were no visible changes except for Burapha’s eye, the one which wasn’t covered by his eyepatch. It gradually lost focus and looked dazed.
“Interesting! So you can use Rhythm, huh? Even I can’t do it.” Revin dragged his heavy sword along the floor. The sword’s wailing sound and the sound of the friction were frantically distracting.
Among the three top leaders of the Heavenly Dragon Guilds—Montra, Revin, and Kawin—the one who was the most reliant on his battle instincts and quick-wit was Revin. He was adventurous and disliked troublesome paperwork. Even though he was a magic-type player who could technically use Solaria’s spells, the number of spells he had memorized was less than ten. Among those spells, not even one was high-tier. He only remembered spells which were easy-to-use, convenient, and could be cast quickly.
When in battle, there were only three things that he fully trusted: the sword in his hands, Flame Phoenix Sword Art, and Flame-Dancing Dragon Steps.
For Revin, the sword in his hands was a reliable comrade—the companion who wouldn’t ever betray him. It was one of his favorite pastimes to fight together with different friends, also known as different swords. That way, he would have to constantly adapt his sword art to suit each sword he was using, broadening his views as a swordsman.
Flame Phoenix Sword Art was the art he personally came up with, with guidance from Sanon. He had been improving it non-stop for years and it was the art he was most confident about.
Lastly, Flame-Dancing Dragon Steps was the art developed from Coiling Dragon Steps, the Sky Dragon Dojo’s basic movement art. While Montra excelled at barehanded art and developed the dojo’s Sky-Rending Dragon Fist into his Heavenly Destiny Fist, Revin took more of a liking to Coiling Dragon Steps.
Revin had sought Sanon’s guidance. Together, they had brainstormed and reformulated Coiling Dragon Steps into a movement art that focused more on movement speed within a limited range. Finally, he got a movement art that flashed around his opponent like a cyclone of flames. It eventually became one of Revin’s personal profound arts, together with Flame Phoenix Sword Art.
Revin’s magic power spread to his feet. His figure blurred as if one was looking at him through waves of heat. Hellfire Dragon’s Scales and Dragon Domain were both activated.
“Let me see how much stronger you have become since the last time we fought.”
Revin lifted up the heavy sword and put it over his shoulder. His movements were smooth as if the giant sword was weightless. His grip on the sword’s hilt was quite loose. He swung it once, generating hot wind that blew toward Burapha.
Burapha held his lance with both hands. His vision blurred thanks to Revin’s flashing movements which were shrouded in flames. Fire sword energy encircled him, preventing him from reading the trajectory of the swinging sword.
“I don’t mean to find faults, but aren’t you holding your lance the wrong way? You’re wielding it like it is a staff.” Revin’s voice came from all directions.
Burapha didn’t answer. He simply rotated his lance once, flipping the back of his lance to block the blade coming at his right ankle.
Clang—!
The sound of the impact told Burapha that his defense was effective. Revin used a giant sword, so people would normally think that he would have swung the sword from top to bottom in order to hack his opponent. Revin was sly, however. His first strike unexpectedly aimed at Burapha’s ankle.
“Dang~ Kraizer was also able to block this move of mine. Am I getting weaker lately?”
There was a catch in Revin’s statement though. While Kraizer could block his sword, the man still got some injuries. Burapha, on the other hand, was perfectly fine after receiving the attack. Well, to be fair, part of the reason was Kraizer also counterattacked Revin as he was defending. As for Burapha, the man only defended firmly.
Burapha wasn’t in a hurry to strike Revin, whose position had been exposed. He knocked the end of his lance on the floor, spreading a ripple of psychic power. The ripple was faint and powerless, but it echoed back to him once it had come into contact with Revin, informing him about the man’s actual whereabouts. It turned out that Revin had shifted position. He was no longer behind Burapha but on his right.
After receiving another incoming attack, Burapha pressed his lance on the sword, locking it to the floor. The ring on his hand flashed, and Lala flew out. She thrust her trishula toward Revin.
“Heh~ Did you really think this would work against me?”
Revin swayed the hilt of his sword to parry the trishula and threw a fierce kick as a means to counterattack. Burapha calmly removed his lance from Revin’s sword and blocked the kick. Meanwhile, Lala tossed a large metal barrel at Revin. The two of them made their moves simultaneously without exchanging any words. Performing combination attacks was the strength of psychic-type beings.
At first, Revin thought the barrel contained bombs. However, a split second later, he doubted it. He didn’t think the two would use bombs at such a close distance. No, even if bombs were really inside the barrel, the Hellfire Dragon’s Scales would be able to significantly reduce the damage.
With that thought, Revin flipped the sword, pointing the sharp edge upward. He then grabbed the hilt with one hand before kicking the back of the blade, swinging the Lamentable Dragon Sword up using the force from the kick. The blade neatly cut the barrel in half.
The barrel broke, and a large volume of water poured out. As it turned out, the barrel was a water tank used by armies, loading enough freshwater for an army to last a week.
Racial Skill — Water Spirit.
Lala activated one of her racial skills. The water, which was splashing throughout the room, wrapped around Revin, trapping the man inside.
Burapha’s eyes gleamed with killing intent. He clenched his lance and thrust it into the water dome.
Eastern Sea Sailing Lance Art — Undercurrent.
The surface of the water dome shook heavily. Undercurrents were echoing inside the dome, compressing Revin. Blood gushed out from many parts of his body, dyeing the water red. Honestly, he didn’t expect Burapha’s attack to be this powerful.
Burapha’s Rhythm of the Single-Drop Ocean enhanced his overall control over his psychic power. Under the Rhythm’s effect, his mental connection with Lala would become clearer and he would be better at using his power, as if the system was assisting him. The experience he was feeling right now was like how the game’s difficulty level suddenly dropped from insanely hard to beginner. It was a suitable Rhythm for someone like him who was quite lazy and tended to seek shortcuts. The duration of his Rhythm was extremely short though.
The overall situation indicated that victory was already in Burapha’s bag. However, he just noticed that Revin’s hands were empty. The Lamentable Dragon Sword, which should have been in them, was nowhere to be seen.
“Watch out!!” Lala cried as she exerted her greatest strength to push Burapha away from his current standing location. Apparently, Burapha was too fixated on attacking Revin. He was counterattacked in an instantaneous moment of carelessness.
Rip—!
The sound of the slash came after it was done slicing. Lala, who had just saved her Partner’s life, was bisected from her shoulder to her waist. She dispersed as white light and returned to the ring. Meanwhile, Burapha frowned, staring at the Lamentable Dragon Sword, which was floating despite no one holding it.
The mass of water wobbled and collapsed. Burapha had no time to regret what had already happened. All he could do was tighten his grip and refocus, controlling his breathing.
Revin extended his hand to grab the floating sword. He pushed his wet hair up using his other hand. The heat from his Dragon Scales caused the water to evaporate, his body covered under vapor.
“Whoa, I almost died. I really am quite vulnerable against in-game skills with strange abilities.”
Even without inspecting the man, Burapha could tell that Revin was greatly injured. That series of attacks were his trump card that he had spent weeks developing. He had tested them several times until he was confident that he could enhance his attacks using water. If Revin was hit by those attacks and came out unscratched, Burapha would really consider committing suicide to not waste their time.
The water was leaking out of the room through doors. Without Water Spirit being active, no amount of water would be enough.
As the water level had dropped to their ankles, Burapha tossed out five more barrels. He spun his lance, breaking all of them. He had to keep the water volume to at least at knee-level, reducing the sharpness in Revin’s Flame-Dancing Dragon Steps.
Racial Skill — Water Spirit.
Revin wouldn’t fall for the same trick. This time, however, Burapha didn’t imprison Revin inside the water dome. The target was himself. He spun his lance from the inside of the dome, sending waves at Revin.
“What kind of move is that?” Revin became more vigilant. He stabbed his heavy sword into the ground before stepping on its hilt, using it as a foothold. He jumped to one of the pillars in the room and kicked it, soaring toward Burapha.
The Lamentable Dragon Sword cried once as it flew to its master’s hand.
Refusing to come into contact with the water surface, Revin performed a move in mid-air.
Flame Phoenix Sword Art — Gliding Phoenix.
Relying on the momentum of the sword flying his way, Revin grabbed it and turned a somersault. He swung his sword at Burapha’s back.
In response, Burapha controlled the water dome to spin, deflecting Revin’s sword. He was relying on the six techniques Sila had imparted to him to reduce the fierceness of Revin’s attack.
Revin flicked his other hand, his magic power pouring into his ring, and activated a spell that he used often.
“Flaming Blades of the Underworld.”
Dozens of blades made of hellfire were summoned. They surrounded Burapha from all directions. The water dome was slowly boiling, scalding him.
The throne room was soon filled with water vapor, greatly reducing visibility. No one could witness the result of the duel.