“I’ve been waiting to pay yer back, little shit!” Dreum took out his greatswords. It seems he got himself a new one after his old one was destroyed. His veins popped under his muscular arms and temple. The shit-eating grin on his face was enough to convey his intent to kill Arnold.
“I wanted to teach this giant brute a lesson, but I guess I’ll go through you first.”
The second martial, Takard, was lean and sharp-featured, his piercing gray eyes locked onto Arnold with cold disdain. His black hair, tied back tightly, framed a face that radiated calm intensity, a stark contrast to Dreum’s brute force.
In his hand, he carried a spear, its dark shaft polished to a deadly sheen. The blade at its tip was narrow and wickedly curved, faintly etched with glowing runes that pulsed with latent energy. His grip was light but firm, the weapon resting at an angle as though it could strike in the blink of an eye.
He could tell by a glance that these two were seasoned martials despite being the bottom of the roster.
A faint smirk played on the lean martial’s lips, cool and mocking, as he shifted his stance slightly, poised like a coiled spring. His voice carried an edge of restrained amusement as he glanced briefly at Dreum before turning back to Arnold.
The old man looked between the three of them before saying, “It would be wise to surround your body in Ki, Competitor Nova.”
“I don’t need it.”
Dreum’s left eye twitched and the grinding of his teeth got even louder. Takard merely chuckled with an “My, my”.
“Alright then, begin!”
Arnold was the first to make a move, appearing in front of Dreum in an instant.
A grin appeared on his target’s face. The sound of sharp iron cutting apart the air could almost be felt if one listened closely. Sending his head down, he could feel the tip of a sharp blade cutting off a few strands on his back hair. It felt like an arrow was shot at him.
Looking to the side before jumping away, he could see that Takard—who was still standing on the same spot as before—was holding out his spear in a relaxed manner. Said spear had extended on its own and aimed right for his opponent.
‘What martial art could this be? Conjuration?’ he analyzed the pole of the spear, noticing that its design stayed the same on the outside after it extended outwards. Perhaps the lean man was changing the inside of the spear to extend its length.
Before he could balance himself, Dreum charged at him and swung his left arm in an attempt to tackle him down. Instead of avoiding the blow, Arnold held up his hands in an attempt to throw Dreum on the ground, however—
‘!’
The moment his hand touched Dreum, an explosion suddenly erupted, sending Arnold crashing into the arena like a stone thrown across concrete.
“Hahahaha, how didya like that!? Ismai special move!” Dreum’s boisterous laughter shook the surroundings.
“Huh!? That did nothing to him!?” someone from the crowd spoke in disbelief when he saw that Arnold stood up without a scratch on his body.
Ignoring the bewildered crowd, he focused on Dreum and Takard. Both of them seemed to have expected him to resist that since they didn’t look surprised at all.
‘He’s creating those explosions by causing his own Ki to become violent.’
This is typically fatal, as it takes a massive toll on the body. The explosions generate shockwaves within the Ki, which still surrounds the person’s body. Depending on their intensity, these shockwaves can even break bones. Yes, it’s similar to Aether combustion, but far, far weaker. This resemblance lends credibility to the theory that 'Aether is an amalgamation of all energies in existence,' though some doubts still remain.
Dreum’s explosion looked controlled and judging by there not being a scratch on him, he had some countermeasure to protect himself.
If Arnold could somehow do the same thing as Dreum… He wouldn’t harm himself with his Aether Combustions.
“Huup!” speak of the devil—the giant of a man appeared next to Arnold and swung his greatswords in a horizontal strike. The left and right were going in opposite directions so he was planning on cutting Arnold into three pieces judging by the angle and height.
Arnold parried the left sword and duck a second later to avoid the right sword. Instead of going in for the kill, he jumped back. The reach on those weapons were insane so dodging without deflecting one of them might’ve hit him. Of course, he wasn’t worried about getting hit. Instead, he wanted to feel what a level 80 warrior’s fully-powered strike feels like against his base form.
The conclusion?
Weak. As weak as a woman’s punch—and he’s received plenty of those from former lovers.
Instead of looking disgruntled over his opponent easily deflecting and dodging his attacks, Dreum was grinning wildly.
Arnold knew what he was thinking.
-“He’s scared of my exploding Ki so I can use the reach of my weapons to keep him away and let him waste his stamina.”
He didn’t fault the brute for having such thoughts. The Ki explosions were definitely dangerous since they can disrupt your own energy and—in turn—cause it to go violent as well. It’s a parasitic power that’s considered taboo among martials.
Arnold looked at the crowd. No one seemed to boo Dreum for using this taboo technique so it was probably allowed in this empire, or even widely used.
Violent Ki coupled with his insane endurance and the reach of his greatswords—Dreum would definitely be a mini-boss level character if one were to rank him.
‘Keeping my distance from him might be best since I don’t want my own power from blowing me up. That would be an easy win for him.’
So troublesome.
‘I’ll test how fast his reaction time is then make my next move.’
After having that thought, he threw Luxtivin toward Dreum.
“Humph!” he easily blocked the sword with his own, causing it to dig into the arena floor (despite said floor being solid marble).
“Hm?” Dreum noticed Arnold had vanished, “You little—Eh?”
“You’re pretty dumb for a brute.” Arnold appeared on the opposite side where his sword landed. Before his Ki could flare up, Arnold’s punch sent him flying across the arena and crashing into one of the pillars.
The pillar collapsed when he crashed into it.
“Euk!”
Arnold walked over to Luxtivin and retrieved it.
‘His reaction time is above average, it seems. He noticed the moment I disappeared and I didn’t go for my sword, that I was on his left.’
If the little brother is this capable in a fight, imagine how powerful and experienced the older brother is?
Arnold looked towards the highest seats in the coliseum—at the same spot where the emperor and his family sat. He made eye-contact with the wife at first (who blushed for some reason) before looking up at the giant shadow behind her.
Level 100.
Mountainous Fist martial art.
‘The direct derivation of the Sky Destroyer Fist pure martial art. That same martial art that allowed a martial god to punch through collapsing stars.’ He was familiar with the martial art since it was very popular among the Monks in the game. It was a perfect martial art for the end-game bosses.
A wide grin akin to that of a devil discovering its prey appeared on Arnold’s face when he realized how powerful this Breuk guy was. Unbeknownst to him, the entire crowd shook seeing that grin. Even the Emperor looked a little taken aback by the little killing intent that leaked from that grin and the hunger in his golden eyes.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Arnold’s eyes flicked back to the empress and the princess. A strange oddity caught his attention: neither of them had a signature.
“Focus on your fight, scum!” Takard thrust forward with his spear, causing its pole to expand and head for Arnold. It wasn’t slow at all. in fact, it was faster than the naked eye could pick up. Arnold dodged to the side and grabbed the pole of the spear.
“!” the moment he figured out the gimmick behind the weapon, Arnold used [Speed of Sound] to instantly appear in front of Takard, who instinctively let go of the spear.
“Tch!” without giving him a chance to recover, Arnold sent a flurry of punches his way when he appeared in front of Takard, “Ack!” he was unable to withstand the power behind those blows so he was punched mercilessly and knocked to the ground.
“S-Shit…”
“I thought you were using some kind of martial art to extend the pole of your spear—seems like that was a naïve thought to have. This also means I have nothing to learn from you so I’ll just finish you off—”
The entire arena shook and Arnold was buried knee deep in the ground when Dreum’s greatswords struck his clavicles.
“For a greatsword user, the power behind your blows is surprisingly weak.”
“W-Wha…” bewildered that his attack did nothing, Dreum jumped back and gritted his teeth, “That was a downward attack with all my power behind it… How did this bastard…”
Arnold stepped out of the debris and looked at the trembling lean man who had lost his composure.
Standing above the trembling Takard, he pulled back his arm and held clenched his fist.
He punched the air downwards. An extremely powerful gale erupted from Arnold’s fist, roaring downward with enough force to crack the arena floor in an instant. The shockwave expanded outward, kicking up a whirlwind of debris and dust that engulfed Takard.
The sheer pressure of the wind alone sent his opponent sprawling, his body skidding across the shattered ground. He cried out in pain, clutching his ribs after the gale battered him relentlessly, cutting through his defenses like a blade. Blood dripped from his mouth, and his once-confident smirk was replaced by wide-eyed terror.
The crowd, silenced by the devastation, sat in stunned awe. The once-pristine arena now looked like the aftermath of a hurricane. Chunks of stone littered the battlefield, and the air was thick with tension. Even the announcer seemed hesitant to intervene, his expression frozen in disbelief.
The force from a single punch was enough to beat his opponent.
“Urahh!” but this match wasn’t over yet.
Dreum used that opportunity to cover his greatswords in Ki and charged forward then swung down with all his might again.
Arnold vanished and appeared between Dreum’s arms. If only a second went by while he was still standing there, the swords might’ve hit him.
“!!” an incoherent scream came out of Dreum when Arnold punched his gut. He flew across the arena and barely managed to stop the momentum. But before he could recover, Arnold appeared right in front of his face and kicked him—well, in the face. The sheer power behind his knee knocking against Dreum’s nose made his brain bounce and consciousness fade for a second.
“Guh… Ukkk…” he collapsed on his knees. Meanwhile, Arnold jumped back wondering to himself if it was necessary to use his own martial art. In the end, he decided not to.
“Why don’t you show me your martial art? Surely you must’ve learned the same martial art as your elder brother over there?”
‘He clearly has the same martial art.’ The system confirmed it.
“Tch! I don’t need to resort to that to fight ye!” he jumped to his feet and swung his arm but Arnold avoided his fist easily.
He brute turned his body to land a kick, probably to do that exploding Ki thing again. He missed in the end, his spiked boot inches away from Arnold’s face.
Arnold knocked his foot away with the back of his fist, causing him to stumble back. But as expected of a seasoned warrior, he got back up to his feet.
Not one to leave an opening, Arnold dashed forward, closing the distance in an instant, his movements sharp and precise. He feinted a straight punch, forcing Dreum to raise his guard high because he knew how powerful that punch will be. Instead, Arnold ducked low, pivoting to deliver a swift, bone-crunching kick to Dreum’s side.
“Keuk!” a shiver went through his spine as the pain assaulted his brain.
The impact echoed like a thunderclap, and Dreum winced, his ribs protesting the blow. But he retaliated immediately with clenching teeth, swinging a heavy fist toward Arnold’s midsection.
Arnold twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike, and countered with a spinning kick aimed at Dreum’s temple. Dreum barely managed to raise his arm in defense, the sheer force of the kick forcing him to slide back across the ground.
‘His hits are so damn heavy… I thought Father and Brother were the only ones to be capable of delivering such powerful blows.’ Dreum felt that arm he used to defend himself, tremble.
With a roar, Dreum charged forward, his greatswords left behind as he opted for raw strength. He threw a flurry of punches, each one powerful enough to shatter bone, but Arnold weaved between the strikes, his movements fluid like water. He retaliated with quick jabs to Dreum’s torso, targeting weak spots to chip away at his stamina.
Dreum, recognizing the rhythm of Arnold’s movements, shifted tactics. He threw a wild haymaker, purposefully overextending, creating just enough of an opening to lure Arnold into a counter. As Arnold darted in to exploit the gap, Dreum twisted his body and rammed his shoulder into Arnold’s chest like a battering ram. The impact sent Arnold skidding backward, his boots digging trenches into the dirt.
Not wasting a moment, Dreum charged again, this time leaping into the air and crashing down with both feet. Arnold sidestepped the attack just in time, the ground where Dreum landed cratering under his immense weight. The shockwave from the impact threw Arnold slightly off balance, giving Dreum the opening he needed.
With the sun on his back, his shadow made him look like a bear about to pounce on prey.
He quickly wrapped his massive arms around Arnold, locking him in a crushing bear hug. The sudden move forced the air out of Arnold’s lungs. It felt like being stuck in a narrow concrete alleyway without much room to move.
“Tch. You’r starting to annoy me.” He hit Dreum in the nose with a headbutt.
“Urk!” his nose broken, his head recoiled back as blood spurted out like water out of a drainage pipe.
‘If I force myself out of this hold, I’ll tear his arms off in the process.’ This was because brute strength is the only thing that can get him out of this iron grip.
“You’re not getting away from me,” Dreum growled, unaware that his grip was nothing to Arnold, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and landing on Arnold’s face. His muscles flexed, veins bulging as a surge of Ki began to radiate from his body. The air around them grew heavy, crackling with an unstable energy.
Arnold's brow furrowed slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re about to—"
“Is that fear on your face!? Hahahahah!” Dreum bellowed, his voice trembling but followed by laughter. His entire body began to glow with a fiery intensity, as if his very essence was igniting. “You’re strong, but let’s see if you can handle this!”
A deafening boom echoed through the arena as Dreum detonated his Ki. The explosion was blinding, a vortex of raw energy that obliterated the ground beneath them, sending shockwaves through the crumbling stands. Dust and debris erupted like a volcanic cloud, engulfing the battlefield in chaos. The crowd screamed and shielded their eyes from the sheer force of the blast.
When the dust began to settle, Dreum stumbled backward, his breath ragged, his skin blackened and cracked like overcooked meat. Steam rose from his body, curling into the air as every movement sent ripples of agony through his battered form. He clutched at his sides, struggling to remain upright, yet through the pain, a flicker of triumph burned in his bloodshot eyes.
“That’s… what happens… when you underestimate me…” he wheezed, his voice a dry rasp, barely audible over the faint crackling of scorched earth beneath him.
But as the haze fully cleared, Dreum’s fleeting confidence crumbled. Standing exactly where he had been, Arnold remained completely unharmed. His clothes were pristine, devoid of even a single scorch mark, and his calm, composed expression sent a chill down Dreum’s spine. He wasn’t even out of breath, his steady gaze locked on Dreum as though the attack had been a harmless breeze.
“I think I get it now,” Arnold said, his voice cool and unhurried.
Dreum’s knees buckled, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out—only a panicked whimper. A dark stain spread down the front of his tattered pants as fear overwhelmed him.
Meanwhile, Arnold raised his hand, casually balancing a ball of swirling white energy in his palm. The glow was gentle a and serene but the air around it buzzed with unrestrained power. “You’re channeling all your focus into the point where you want the explosion to happen,” Arnold began, his tone almost instructional. “That’s why you have to contract your muscles like a desperate amateur. But for me…” He tilted his head, watching the energy swirl. “It’s different.”
“I don’t have to flex my muscles like an idiot,” Arnold continued, his voice razor-sharp. “Because I’m far above you in handling this kind of power.”
“U-Uuuu… n-no… please…” Dreum stammered, tears streaming down his soot-covered face. He fell to his knees, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. “D-don’t… I’m sorry… I—”
Arnold’s expression didn’t change, his eyes cold and calculating. “You’ll make an excellent test subject. That’s the only use for a weakling.”
Dreum’s eyes widened in sheer terror as Arnold flicked his wrist, sending the ball of energy hurtling toward him. The giant’s scream reverberated through the arena.
It definitely seemed as Nova forgot about the rules and was about to kill Dreum. But his older brother Breuk didn’t move to save his brother at all.
He concurred with Nova—weaklings have no use in this world except being test subjects for the powerful martials.
The audience gasped, some shielding their eyes from the brilliant light. Dreum could only scream, the sheer terror consuming him—
—but at the last moment, the ball veered to the side, slamming into the ground just inches away from him. The explosion tore through the arena, a deafening roar shaking the very earth. Dirt and debris shot into the sky as a massive crater opened up next to Dreum, the shockwave nearly knocking him off his knees. The air was filled with the acrid smell of scorched earth, and the audience collectively gulped, many instinctively taking a step back.
Dreum, pale and shaking, turned to look at the crater, his trembling hands pressing against the cracked ground as he tried to steady himself. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He was frozen in place, his face painted with unfiltered fear.
Arnold cchuckled, his laugh deep and unsettling. “That blast would’ve killed you instantly and it was just a fraction of what I am capable of. I must admit, your fear was amusing.”
His smirk suddenly vanished, “But if this was a real fight, you would not be alive because if my opponent is trying to kill me, I will do the same. And if someone has already killed me, I will hunt you down even after death.”
Arthur’s face appeared in his mind, making his body tense up with rage that the audience thought was directed at Dreum.
Dreum’s eyes were blank as if his mind was in a daze. He saw his life flash before his eyes but he will live to see another day.
Even if he had won against Nova, his injuries would’ve caused him to forfeit. He lost either way.
The silence that followed was deafening. No one dared to speak, the tension in the air almost unbearable. Arnold straightened, brushing a speck of dirt from his sleeve as if nothing had happened, then turned away, leaving Dreum kneeling by the edge of the crater, too petrified to move.
“Winner! Nova!!”
The only word to describe this young man was—
Monster.