NOVEL NEXT Chapter 162: Byung Gets Serious!
Byung's world narrowed to the Chieftess's red eyes, the killing intent pressing down on him like an invisible mountain, making his muscles lock and his breath come in shallow gasps. The arena's air felt thick, the dirt under his feet sticky with sweat and blood, the crowd's murmurs a distant hum like bees in a hive. His heart thumped wildly, fear clawing at his insides, but then—something shifted.
For a moment, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, whites showing in a eerie blank stare. The world tilted, colors inverting in his vision, the faces pushed against the fence pulsing brighter with a low hum that vibrated through his bones.
Pain spiked behind his temples, then vanished, replaced by a cold clarity. Everything changed when his eyes reverted—pupils dilating back to normal, the fear peeling away like old skin shedding in the wind. His body relaxed, muscles uncoiling like a spring released, the killing intent dissipating as if it had never been. He breathed deep, the air tasting fresh and sharp, his heart steadying to a calm rhythm.
The Chieftess swung her broadsword in a deadly arc, the blade whistling through the air with enough force to split stone, aimed to decapitate him in one clean stroke. But it met no mass. Byung disappeared into thin air, his form vanishing like smoke in a gust, the sword shattering into the ground with a thunderous crack that sent dirt exploding upward in a cloud of dust. The impact vibrated through the fence, the barbs rattling like chains, the crowd gasping in unison, their breaths held in shock.
The Chieftess smirked, a slow curl of her lips revealing tusks that gleamed white in the morning light. Byung had finally gotten serious—she could feel it in the shift of the air, the way his presence had sharpened. He had realized she wasn't underestimating him; her strikes were precise, her intent pure. No games. No mercy. She simply had no plans to kill him without tasting his true power.
Byung reappeared behind her in a blink, his form materializing like condensing mist, sword already swinging in a horizontal arc aimed to decapitate her in one go. The blade hummed through the air, edges sharp enough to slice wind, the blunt tip a deliberate choice that didn't lessen the lethality. Maui, watching from the fence, her green eyes wide, wondered why he was going for the killing blow—their intention had been to recruit the Chieftess, to turn her power to their side.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, her tusks grinding with worry.
The Chieftess spun with impossible speed, her broadsword coming up in a parry that met Byung's blade with a deafening clang, sparks flying like fireworks in the daylight, the force rippling through the air in a shockwave that stirred the dust at their feet. The impact threw Byung backward, his body hurtling through the air like a thrown stone, the wind rushing past his ears with a roar. He twisted mid-flight, but the momentum was too great—he slammed into the barb wire fence, the jagged points impaling the soles of his feet with a wet crunch, blood welling up instantly in dark green pools that soaked into the metal.
Pain should have exploded through him, but he showed no reaction—like it was a mere scratch, his face impassive, eyes cold and focused.
The crowd gasped, goblins pressing closer to the fence, the metal rattling under their weight. Naruz's hands clenched the bars so hard they bent, her voice a low growl. "Get up..."
But the four guards made sure she didn't interfere.
Byung didn't flinch. He used the impaled feet as leverage, catapulting himself from the fence forward with immense speed, faster than he had been on the ground, his body a green blur that cut through the air with a whoosh. Barely any goblin could keep up visually, their eyes straining to track the streak—except the trained fighters like Maui and Naruz, who saw the precision in his launch.
The Chieftess swung her blade to cut him in half, the massive sword arcing horizontally with a low hum, as it sliced through the space where he should have been. But Byung was mid-air, trajectory locked—or so she thought. He twisted his body, using his sword to parry her attack mid-swing, the blades clashing with a ring that vibrated the fence.
The force altered his path slightly, a calculated deflection that sent him sailing past her offense, the wind of her swing ruffling his hair.
He bypassed her completely, her swing committed and unstoppable. It was impossible for her to retract the sword in time—momentum carried it forward into empty air. Byung spun in mid-air, his sword flashing toward her neck in a killing arc, the edges sharp enough to part flesh like paper. The Chieftess released her broadsword with a clatter, leaping backward in a blur of white robe and muscle, the fabric tearing slightly at the hem with a rip. The blade nicked her neck—a shallow cut that welled blood in a thin green line, dripping down her collarbone. If the tip hadn't been blunt, it would have been deeper.
No one could believe what they had just witnessed. The crowd erupted in gasps and shouts, goblins pounding the fence with fists, the metal rattling like a storm. Maui's jaw dropped, her tusks parted in shock—Byung had not only survived but turned the Chieftess's power against her. Naruz's eyes widened in utter shock. Even the four honor guards shifted, their bone helms tilting slightly, a rare crack in their stoic facade.
The Chieftess touched her neck, fingers coming away slick with blood, her red eyes narrowing. She smirked—a sickening grin that split her face, tusks gleaming, as if the nick amused her rather than angered.
Byung landed lightly, blood from his impaled feet soaking into the dirt with soft plops, but he showed no pain, his expression cold and focused. The duel hung on a knife's edge, inconclusive, the air crackling with tension as they circled once more.