NOVEL NEXT Chapter 163: S-She Was Holding Back!?
He had her broadsword in hand now, the massive blade heavy as a felled tree, it was almost like it weighed this heavy because of the lives it had taken.
The weight strained his arm, muscles burning with the effort, veins bulging under his green skin like twisted ropes. Despite his system-boosted strength, he could feel the strain of it—this sword was damn heavy, designed for her immense power, not his. But he gripped it tight, the leather-wrapped hilt slick with sweat, wanting to show her his strength, to prove he was no mere goblin but a force worthy of her attention to be taken seriously.
And in her crimson red eyes, Byung could swear he saw excitement—a spark of genuine thrill, her tusks parting slightly in that sickening grin, as if the challenge ignited something long dormant.
Byung couldn't comprehend how an orc this strong and if they were this strong in other regions, if this was the case then he stood no chance but there was no doubt the ones in this region weren't nearly as strong as her.
If he could get her under his command, he could no doubt conquer the orcs in this region even with Kraghul on their side.
The Chieftess charged, her white robe billowing like a storm cloud caught in the wind, bare feet pounding the dirt with thuds that vibrated up through Byung's legs. Her red eyes narrowed, killing intent radiating like heat from a forge, the air around her seeming to shimmer with pressure. But everything Byung had adjusted to was overridden in an instant—she had shown even greater combat capabilities, her speed spiking beyond his heightened perception. He couldn't even blink before the impact hit.
A powerful blow—her fist, or perhaps her shoulder; it was too fast to tell—slammed into his chest like a meteor crashing to earth. Air exploded from his lungs as his mind momentarily went blank, ribs compressing with a sharp crack that sent pain lancing through his torso. He flew backward, the world blurring in a spin of sky and fence, the wind roaring in his ears like a gale. Her sword flew out of his hand, the heavy blade tumbling end over end with a metallic ring, embedding itself in the dirt with a force that shook the ground. Byung slammed into the fence, the jagged barbs piercing his back this time, blood welling up instantly in hot, sticky flows that soaked his tunic and dripped to the ground with soft patters. Internal damage bloomed inside him—organs bruised, ribs fractured—blood escaping his mouth in a cough that sprayed green mist into the air, the coppery taste flooding his tongue.
Byung realized how stupid he was to think he stood a chance.
The crowd screamed, goblins pounding the fence with fists, the metal rattling like a storm of hail. Maui's voice cut through—"Byung! Get up!"—but he could barely hear over the ringing in his ears.
The Chieftess didn't even pick up her sword. She walked toward him slowly, her bare feet padding softly on the dirt, robe flowing with each step, her red eyes unblinking, filled with that sickening grin. Byung instantly knew he had made a mistake trying to harm her at all. He had awakened something that should have been left sleeping—a primal force, her presence now a suffocating aura that made Byung want to run away, everything in his body was screaming at him to run. She was having fun but Byung knew she intended to end it before the time elapsed. She wanted to take his life, there was no mistaking that and something told him how she planned to do was to decapitate him. There was no regenerative ability that could save him from that.
He tried to move, muscles twitching as he pushed off the fence, the barbs tearing free with wet rips that sent fresh pain lancing through his back, blood streaming down in warm rivulets. But the moment he even twitched, she appeared right in front of him—a blur of white robe and white hair, her speed defying sight. Her hand shot out like a striking cobra, grabbing him by the neck with fingers like that of a monster, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. His feet dangled, kicking uselessly, sand scattering beneath him.
Byung struggled, hands clawing at her wrist, nails digging into her skin, but it was like scratching stone—unyielding, her grip tightening with a slow squeeze that made his vision tunnel, black spots dancing at the edges. He gasped, air whistling through his constricted throat, the pressure building in his head like a dam ready to burst.
He managed to grab the last of his bone daggers from his belt, the hilt slick with sweat and blood, and nicked her wrist in a desperate slash. The blade bit shallow, drawing a thin line of green, but Byung was confused as to why it couldn't cut deeper—the edge skittered off like it had hit armor, not flesh.
The answer was simple: she had hardened her muscles, tensing them to steel-like density, making something like that impossible to damage her. The bone dagger's paralysis venom beaded on the cut but didn't take—her blood burned it away, she was immune to something of the potency. Byung watched in horror, all of his attempts to gain an edge had been in vain.
She tightened her grip further, fingers digging into his throat like claws, cutting off air completely. Byung's struggles weakened, legs kicking slower, hands falling limp. Everything was going blank—vision fading to gray, sounds muffling to a distant roar, the pain a dull throb. This felt a lot different than when Kraghul beat him to a pulp—this felt final, like the system couldn't pull him back from the void.
Her other hand grabbed him by the leg as she raised him over her head, the force pulling in opposite directions.
"S-She is trying to rip in half!" Maui blurted out.
The crowd's screams faded, the world narrowing to her golden eyes, unblinking, watching him slip away.