After my resounding victory in the test of mental endurance, I took a moment to observe my remaining opponents. Among them stood an imposing man, towering at nearly two meters tall. His massive frame and wild, unyielding gaze marked him as the favorite for this challenge.
When his turn came, he strode forward with heavy, confident steps, parting the crowd without hesitation. His bulging muscles looked as though they could crush anything in their path. I couldn’t help but study him discreetly, intrigued by this display of raw power.
As soon as the starting signal was given, the man, whom the announcer had introduced as Brutus, effortlessly lifted the heavy metal plates. His two opponents, though physically strong, struggled to bear the imposed weight. Yet Brutus stood perfectly still, his rugged face betraying no sign of effort.
Minutes passed, and eventually, the other two participants collapsed, unable to continue. Brutus remained upright, a satisfied grin on his lips. He had won the challenge with ease, without even breaking a sweat.
When the announcer declared him the victor, a wave of applause echoed through the stands. Clearly, this man had captured the crowd’s admiration with his incredible strength.
As Brutus retrieved the weight he had carried, he slowly turned toward me, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. A chill ran down my spine as I felt the primal aura of savagery radiating from him.
“So, the skinny black-haired kid with the sharp eyes,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “Looks like you’re my next opponent.”
I met his gaze unflinchingly, refusing to be intimidated by this mountain of muscle.
“That’s right,” I replied evenly. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do.”
A guttural laugh escaped Brutus’s throat, and he stepped closer with deliberate heaviness.
“Well, little twig, you’d better prepare to eat dirt,” he sneered. “I’m going to crush you like a bug.”
I merely nodded, keeping my composure. After all, I knew my physical strength could rival his, thanks to my ability to amplify my capabilities with mana.
As Brutus returned to his place, the announcer once again took the stage, raising his arms to command silence.
“My friends, we’ve reached the final trial of this tournament!” he proclaimed loudly. “As you all know, only the winner of this ultimate duel will earn the honor of joining the royal army of Valoria!”
The crowd buzzed with excitement, their energy palpable. All eyes were on Brutus and me, eagerly awaiting the start of our clash.
“This final challenge will be a duel with melee weapons,” the announcer continued. “Each of you will choose a weapon, and the fight will end when one of you is unable to continue.”
I nodded slowly, a deep sense of determination settling over me. Melee weapons, huh? That was perfect—I already had the ideal weapon in mind.
“Contestants, prepare yourselves!” the announcer declared. “You have a few minutes to select your arms. Remember, the use of magic or mana is strictly forbidden in this final stage.”
As I walked away from Brutus to collect my thoughts, I considered the best strategy to use against him. Sure, this man was an overwhelming force of nature, but I knew my speed and dexterity could give me a decisive edge.
However, one rule loomed over my thoughts: I couldn’t use mana for this fight. I bit my lip in frustration. Without my enhanced abilities, how could I hope to overcome such a powerful opponent?
Suddenly, an idea struck me. Digging through my belongings, I pulled out a familiar object, a confident smile spreading across my face. Yes, this was the perfect solution.
When the announcer called us back, I stepped forward confidently, weapon in hand. Opposite me, Brutus stood with a smug expression, a massive battle axe strapped across his back.
“So, twig, have you picked your weapon?” he jeered. “I hope it’s sharper than you are.”
I didn’t bother to respond, keeping my gaze locked on him with unwavering focus. The announcer raised his arms again, calling for silence.
“All right, my friends! Let the final duel… begin!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Brutus charged at me, his axe raised high above his head. I remained perfectly still, waiting for the right moment to act.
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At the last second, I leapt to the side, dodging his attack with ease. Brutus, thrown off balance by his own momentum, struggled to turn around, growling in frustration.
“What?! How did you dodge that so easily?” he roared, astonished.
Without answering, I launched my counterattack, spinning my weapon in a fluid motion. Brutus raised his axe to block, but the force of my strike sent him stumbling back several steps.
Taking advantage of his momentary instability, I pressed my offensive, landing swift, precise blows. Brutus struggled to keep up with my movements, his heavy weapon slowing him down considerably.
“Damn you, you little bastard!” he snarled, frustration etched across his face.
Suddenly, he managed to land a brutal swing of his axe, forcing me to retreat. To his shock, however, the only sign of damage was a small tear in my sleeve.
“What?! Impossible!” Brutus bellowed, stunned.
I couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. It seemed he hadn’t realized the nature of my weapon.
“Come now, Brutus, surely you know that an adamantium blade isn’t as easily damaged as regular steel,” I said with a hint of amusement.
Brutus glared at me in disbelief, the realization of my advantage finally sinking in. With my adamantium sword, I could block his attacks effortlessly and land my own strikes without fear of dulling the blade.
Taking a deep breath, Brutus reset his stance, his eyes blazing with determination. It was clear he wasn’t going to go down easily.
I tightened my grip on my sword’s hilt, ready to meet his next attack. Despite the restriction on mana use, I trusted in my finely honed swordsmanship.
To my surprise, Brutus didn’t attack immediately. Instead, he began circling me, studying my movements intently. His sharp eyes seemed to search for any weakness in my defense.
I furrowed my brow slightly, intrigued by this change in strategy. Was he more cunning than I’d initially thought?
Suddenly, Brutus lunged at me, his axe carving a deadly arc through the air. Anticipating his strike, I prepared to block—but at the last moment, he feinted, changing direction to throw me off balance.
I narrowly deflected the blow, stepping back to regain my footing. Brutus didn’t let up, following with a relentless series of attacks, trying to overwhelm me with sheer aggression.
I pushed myself to the limit, parrying each swing with precision, but the strain began to take its toll. My movements slowed as fatigue crept in.
Brutus, on the other hand, seemed tireless, his raw strength compensating for his lack of finesse. He knew that his best chance lay in wearing me down.
Then an idea struck me. If I could unbalance him for just a moment, I might be able to turn the tide. But how could I do that without mana?
It was then I remembered the interface my system provided. Closing my eyes briefly, I accessed it.
Interface :
[Enemy Analysis: Brutus] Level: 51 Traits: [High Physical Strength, Resilience, Bestial Instincts]
HP: 345/345 MP: 0/0
My eyes widened slightly at the information. This man was a true monster of physical strength. No wonder he struggled to match my speed and agility.
But the complete absence of mana in his energy core told me something important—he had no way to counter my precision. A smile crept onto my lips. I had found his weakness.
Opening my eyes again, I adjusted my stance, ready to execute my plan. Brutus charged at me once more, but this time, I didn’t just defend. I countered with rapid, calculated strikes, forcing him to step back.
Caught off guard by the shift in momentum, Brutus faltered, his movements becoming erratic. Now was my chance.
Springing forward, I darted around him in a complex pattern. Brutus struggled to follow my movements, his cumbersome axe hindering his reaction time.
Seizing the opportunity, I landed a series of precise strikes at the joints of his armor. Each blow rang out with a heavy clang, drawing a pained grimace from him.
Gradually, I felt his pace slow, his attacks becoming increasingly desperate. Brutus was clearly outmatched by my strategy.
As he swung his axe one final time, I slipped behind him with fluid grace, pressing the edge of my blade to his throat.
“It’s over, Brutus,” I said calmly.
The giant froze for a moment, his ragged breathing loud in the sudden silence of the arena. Then, with a heavy sigh, he let his axe fall to the ground with a resounding clang.
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, chanting my name with enthusiasm. The announcer rushed to my side, raising my arm in triumph.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winner of this tournament—young Griffith!”
I nodded humbly, knowing that my victory was largely due to my strategic thinking. Without the aid of my interface and precise execution, defeating Brutus would have been nearly impossible.
As the announcer continued his jubilant speech, my gaze drifted toward the royal box. There sat King Gaspar, his expression inscrutable. Yet, I could detect a faint glimmer of intrigue in his eyes. Clearly, my performance had caught his attention.
I quickly looked away, choosing to focus on what lay ahead. This was only the beginning. The real challenge would come later when I would face the deeper dangers lurking behind the throne—and the demon within King Gaspar himself.