(W-wait, am I really being treated like an insect here? They never intended to take this seriously from the start…)
Ves sighed silently.
He understood the opponent’s mindset all too well.
If he himself had drawn a new combat item from the Wishing Pool, he would definitely try to practice on some random monsters—just for the thrill of something new.
Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, at least there was a chance to struggle.
However, before he could even catch a single breath, the “Dark Doom” storm came crashing down.
This time, it was no longer just a simple mix of magic-infused calamity breaths.
Swept up in the raging wind, countless tiny sword blades spun wildly within, silver sparks flashing in the black vortex—it was like a meat grinder.
Ves didn’t dare gamble on whether the “Wandering Dust” could withstand physical attacks.
If his armor broke, he wouldn’t even have the chance to struggle.
So he made no choice, leapt up, and with a kick shoved the motionless Morphyana behind him aside.
“Running away? Yeah, that’s right. Running is all you can do. But don’t get me wrong—I’m not about to make the same mistake as the Soul-Eating Sovereign.”
Norsen raised his other hand, and a second storm whipped up alongside his words.
The Calamity Knight’s eyes were fixed solely on the pitiful little cricket—the mercenary.
The twin storms ignored the female knight standing aside and surged straight for Ves.
They blocked all routes, sealing off front and back.
Sensing the opponent’s intention, Ves’s steps faltered.
To anyone watching, it seemed impossible to escape the storm’s range.
His retreat was completely cut off by the black mist.
So he simply stood his ground, his posture like a man who had given up healing, but his eyes flickered with ferocity:
“Is that so? But I never said I was going to run away like last time when I met the Soul-Eating Sovereign.”
The next moment, the hand that had been hidden at his side quietly drew out the “Melo-Melo Eye” from his pocket, swiftly snapping the enchanted orb into the slot on his wristguard.
It was a custom design, specially reforged by the most famous artisan in Crow City to facilitate combined use.
He hadn’t expected it to be used this soon—maybe even the last time it would see action.
With the resolve of a desperate gamble, Ves gritted his teeth and shouted purely to boost his courage:
“Enchant—Holy Light!”
The next second, he stomped the ground and transformed his entire body into a cannonball, charging backward at Norsen.
It wasn’t that his movements were so fast the eye couldn’t follow.
On the contrary, it was within the bounds of a normal person’s speed, an ordinary pace, wearing armor, covering a hundred meters in about ten seconds.
But this bravely reckless act was enough to make Norsen pause in surprise.
“Heh…heheh, interesting. I thought you were a cautious mercenary, someone who valued life above all else. But when pushed to the brink, illusions of survival can cloud even the sharpest mind, making them fight like a cornered beast…”
The black mist storm’s control faltered, the two swirling vortexes collided and repelled each other.
The resulting powerful wind pressure felt like two invisible hands pushing Ves from behind, accelerating him beyond the limits of his own run, truly sending his entire body flying forward.
Norsen stopped manipulating the storm and switched hands, gathering a new calamity breath on both arms.
He shaped black mist into full armor, transforming into the true form of the Doom Knight.
“Vuuuum—”
The low rumbling of impact spread along with the sound waves.
Even the mist-shrouded valley bottom was cleared, allowing the moonlight to shine through more brightly.
Morphyana was again knocked to the ground, rolling hard across the earth.
But this time, she didn’t stand there dazed and numb.
Before she could even recover, the female knight immediately lifted her head to look toward the center of the battle.
“How… is this possible?”
Morphyana whispered in disbelief.
But under the moonlight, everything was revealed with absolute clarity.
The chaotic, deformed armored mist hands were gripping the mercenary’s attacking fists.
Ves and the disproportionally large calamity form exchanged punches.
The glow on his wristguard flashed sharply—the true Holy Light shining brilliantly.
But the light didn’t last long.
Norsen’s upper body extended his hand, thrusting the tip of his sword aimed straight at Ves’s chest.
“—Watch out!”
Morphyana saw it clearly, and her warning escaped instinctively.
Ves had already reacted even before the voice.
He twisted his body aside, loosening his grip slightly, then used the push from the misty arms to leap backward, evading the close-range strike.
“Compared to me, your technique is more like that of a mercenary, alright? Those old foxes at the tavern fights love moves like that—I’ve learned plenty from them.”
Ves didn’t pause for a moment, standing up immediately to regain his posture, still taunting.
Norsen slowly lowered the sword aimed at empty air, disdain shining in his eyes:
“You’re just an insect. Does it really matter how you’re stepped on? If you want to talk about dueling, you’re not worthy.”
After they put distance between each other again, Morphyana finally confirmed—
All those swords swirling within the knight captain’s storm, and the blade he now held, were without exception crafted and wielded by the subordinates under the knight’s command.
“—Hey!”
Ves’s sudden shout made the female knight tremble all over.
She looked at the mercenary—
“If you want to live, then cooperate!”
Ves tried to wake her up.
At least compared to the dazed state she’d been in before, now there was a faint glimmer of light in her eyes.
Though holding out was possible for a while, Ves was well aware—his hard-earned mercenary experience taught him that he couldn’t get through this ordeal alone.
All the confidence and momentum he’d shown so far was just a façade—to draw in the third uncertain factor here and get her on his side.
Like a jockey showing off skills to the crowd before a horse race, hoping to gain their bets.
—“Look, I can win, okay?”
This was also why Ves had initially blocked the storm and rescued the knight lady.
“Cooperate…”
Morphyana’s lips trembled, but she still couldn’t get to her feet.
Whether she was injured or just lacking willpower, she remained in a defeated state.
Only for a second—Ves received no reply before the “Dark Doom” storm surged again.
“You really told me a joke.”
Norsen laughed without concealment, looking at the fleeing mercenary with unrestrained delight.
Even his usual poised, elegant image was nearly lost.
“So you really plan to leave here alive. That’s exactly what I expect of a mercenary… Fine, I’ll erase your delusions all at once—”
His words fell.
The “Dark Doom” storm swirled up again.
This time, not two, but storms gathered from all directions.
If before there had been space for Ves to charge straight at Norsen’s body,
Now, there was no gap left for escape.
No matter how small an insect is, it’s impossible to survive.