Chapter 126: Race Against Time
'So far so good,' Azrael mused, sprinting through the fire he had created in order to buy himself time.
He glanced at the current results; his team was in the lead with two points while the other had just one.
There were less than five minutes until the end of the game. More than enough time for a Champion to cross all the rocks, reach their flag, and claim another point should they steal Azrael's flag.
He couldn't afford to slip up at any cost.
With him being in the lead, there was no reason to go towards his base; he just had to play the game of cat and mouse for a few minutes until the timer ran out, claiming victory for his faction.
His movement began to slow down, not due to exhaustion but due to the coldness that seeped deep in his bones.
Truth Devourer provided him with protection, not with warmth. Still, he wasn't going to complain.
Lowering his body even more, he moved through the burning wilderness like a ghost. Ears pricked up, searching for any signs of enemy noises.
He wasn't about to risk engaging in a fight no matter how weak his opponent could turn out to be.
"Where is he?!"
"Find him!"
"Don't stop! He must be somewhere near!"
The shouts of the Champions began to near even more; it was only a matter of time until he was caught.
Unfortunately, his escape path ran out. The fire before him proved too thick to pass through.
"Found you!"
To make matters worse, it took less than a second for a Champion to find him.
Knowing that his time was numbered, Azrael moved, discarding any thoughts.
Thinking would only slow down his movements. Something that he couldn't afford when going against such a fierce foe.
In a heartbeat the Champion had moved so fast that the man appeared like a blur.
Before Azrael realized what was happening, he saw a blade aiming to tear his torso in two.
Knowing that he had to buy more time, Azrael acted on instinct. Positioning his scythe in front of him in a defensive stance, he gritted his teeth, prepared for the strike.
And jumped.
When taking a hit head-on, even the unskilled fighter knew that they had to make their footing as stable as possible.
But that was only if they wanted to win.
Azrael didn't have a chance against a Champion anyway.
So he was simply going to make use of their strength against them.
A second later the blade of the Champion hit Azrael full force. The nauseating echoes of his bones breaking reached his ears, yet faced with the pain, he remained unshaken.
The inertia of the Champion's strike was so powerful that it sent Azrael flying to the side like a ragdoll.
Straight into the raging fires and away from the Champion's grasp.
"Crap!" The Champion, realizing his mistake, was left with no choice but to dash forward.
'That bought me a couple of seconds.' Azrael analyzed, his vision returning once he hit the ground.
His foe was about to lunge at him once more; after all, he knew where Azrael had been sent. It was only a matter of time.
Azrael was about to move only to make eye contact with a familiar Prove.
"SHIT!" ArcLancer recoiled in pure horror, facing Azrael once again.
He gripped his spear tightly, ready to fight for his own life. Quite fascinating; despite being unable to die in the VR simulation, the pain he had felt from Azrael's punches had made it seem like he was about to die.
The stream's chat went wild, reaching never-seen-before viewer counts as they got a good look at Azrael's figure.
His Radiant armor had cracked in several places by the Champion's mighty attack, revealing his muscular neck, torso, and shoulder underneath.
The sight alone caused the number of female viewers to double.
Yet neither Azrael nor ArcLancer knew about that fact, as both were too focused, living in the moment.
"Stay awa—"
ArcLancer's cry was cut short as Azrael lunged towards him.
The Proven was in his way, and he had to get rid of him in a timely manner.
His scythe blurred through the air, about to behead him.
Only for Azrael to be sent to the side, another Champion, this one a woman, had appeared at his side and hit him with staggering power.
'This is as far as I go, it seems.' Azrael mused, puking blood. [Blood Manipulation] slowed down the blood loss, but the damage was already done.
A second later the other two Champions joined the fray, descending upon him from three sides.
Azrael's bloody veil concealed his stoic expression. Tensing his body to the limit, he attempted to block.
Yet the sheer power of the strike flung his weapon to the side, making it clear that blocking wasn't possible.
Seeing death, he moved his arms to the left, only to see red as a blade carved them clean off.
'The flag is on my back, not in my hands. I can buy more time!'
He thought, lowering his legs, barely avoiding a strike that had gone for his head.
A bright light assaulted his vision; a moment later, once his eyes adjusted, he saw that his left leg had been torn off.
'Not yet!'
Kicking with his right leg hard against the ground, he sent himself flying over the edge of the rock. The flag on his back as well as his white hair flared wildly in the wind.
"No, you don't!"
Enraged that they had lost so much time, one of the Champions jumped towards him. Blade going for his heart.
Yet just before the blade could kill him, he twisted his body to the side. Putting his lungs in the path of the blade.
His insides filled with crimson blood, but he was still not dead.
"You!" The Champion cursed, raising his fist, about to punch Azrael's head off his shoulders.
Only for the strong wind to lift his bloody veil upwards, allowing the Champion to witness Azrael's mouth.
And the way it was curved into a smile despite the realistic pain he felt.
'Crazy.' ArcLancer, who had peeked over the edge of the rock, observed in stunned silence. Even his chat had stopped typing, witnessing the scene before them.
Just then, an announcement echoed across the heads of the Chosen.
[Time has run out!]
[Announcing the faction scores]
[3rd place, 0 points: Iron Howl]
[2nd place, 1 point: Crimson Accord]
[1st place, 2 points: Ashen Vow]
[Winners: Ashen Vow!]