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墨書 Inktalez
Freyr witnessed a scene of bloody chaos, and the brutality within him was reignited. His previously languid muscles regained vitality, causing the ropes of the large sack around him to snap one after another. He spat out a mouthful of blood and stood up from the sack.
Delving deeper into the Gene Chain could lead to signs of uncontrollable rampage. The more easily controllable powers often fell short in defeating opponents, and many were willing to follow the strong for the sake of overcoming their adversaries. However, there was no such thing as a free lunch; the Gene Chain was a shackle hidden deep within the human body, signifying the liberation of potential.
Yet, liberating that potential required exceptional physical qualities to sustain it. After undergoing considerable training, Freyr had gradually begun to grasp some clues. He had completely mastered the first stage of the Gene Chain, and through continuous trials, he finally discovered a method to enter the second stage one day.
However, this method was reminiscent of his first entry into the Gene Chain. Judging by the results, it seemed impossible to use it twice in quick succession. After one attempt, his body would be left in excruciating pain and his spirit severely depleted. This was due to cracks beginning to appear in his internal genes. While these cracks were not irreparable, attempting a second entry within a day would be akin to chiseling at a wall filled with gaps using an iron hammer; it would only exacerbate those fissures. Although there was a possibility of further unleashing potential, at that moment, the user would also enter a countdown to death.
The Stormstream Palace did not fear the power generated by the Gene Chain; in comparison, her opponent's level was still lacking. "You managed to break free from my specially crafted ropes even after being hit by my nerve toxin. Just how reckless are you?"
Dute heard the commotion and came over, laughing heartily. "Hahaha! This is the man I value! Impressive, right? How about you witness this with me?"
Stormstream Palace looked at Dute and shook her head, a hint of helplessness on her face. "Dute, I don't know where you get your courage from; it's utterly foolish. He has continuously catalyzed his Gene Chain abilities over several hours. I think his life force will soon dwindle to almost nothing!"
Dute stepped forward and patted Freyr on the shoulder with a grin. "From burning stamina to now burning life itself—he's skipped straight to that stage! Truly worthy of being the man I admire! You have better gifts and originally possessed immense strength; this is something you've given up on yourself. You can still save yourself if you stop now; don’t be reckless—they're not dead yet!" But Freyr forcefully swatted Dute's hand away, causing him to stagger back slightly.
Dute turned back to Stormstream Palace and then looked at Freyr with an odd smile. "Move them further away; I want a one-on-one duel with this man. There aren’t many like him left in this world; perhaps that’s what he desires as well. Understood? I'm coming for you!"
"Hey, can’t I convince you otherwise? Fine, just don’t die," Stormstream Palace sighed lightly as a silver light suddenly emanated from the ring entwined around her finger. The large sack before her began to levitate, and then she kicked off forcefully, leaping into the air. "I'll watch you fight from here; you can have all the space below."
"Alright!" Dute nodded slightly. "Let’s duel; this is a battle between men!"
Freyr stood across from them, already consumed by uncontrollable rage. At this point, he could no longer comprehend what was being said; all he knew was that everything he saw would become fodder for his wrath. With a loud roar, he charged forward at incredible speed.
Dute felt a significant leap in Freyr's physical abilities this time, realizing that fighting for one's beliefs could yield such enhancements. He truly was a worthy opponent for deepening ties, and although they could not become companions, on the battlefield, even as strangers, Dute felt he could trust his back to such a man. This ignited his warrior spirit; his muscles crackled with energy, swelling to twice their previous size, both of them reaching the Second Stage of Gene Chain.
In terms of competition, Dute clearly had the upper hand. Perhaps he could rely on his physical advantages to compensate for any disparities between them. Over time, it was likely that Dute would be left far behind, but for now, he had plenty of practical experience and combat strategies to teach the younger generation.
The two collided, and Freyr wrapped his arms around Dute's legs. Dute tilted his head back, and they rolled together on the ground.
The impact shattered nearby obstacles; even the slightly thicker trees were damaged at their edges, while larger rocks exploded into fragments. Dust lingered in the air for a while before Dute's massive fist swung out, dispersing the cloud with sheer force. Freyr managed to grip tightly without being blown away this time; instead, he held his ground, creating a stark contrast in strength at such close range.
Dute understood the gravity of the situation well. He used his other arm to deliver an elbow strike. Freyr staggered slightly, feeling pain in his abdomen. His awareness was still somewhat hazy; pain only fueled his ferocity and brutality. However, this power did not increase. In his murderous mindset, all he could think about was completely eliminating his opponent. Of course, he knew that would lead to his own demise as well. For now, he could still do what he wanted—protect his comrades—but it wasn't that simple; he had staked his life on this battle.
Dute clenched his numb and hardened fist. Just moments ago, he felt powerless against Freyr's might, akin to confronting a speeding heavy truck head-on. While not afraid, he was shocked that he couldn't gain an advantage in strength. Aside from that shock, he had no other thoughts.
Freyr steadied himself and leaned forward; such a move would be seen as exposing a weakness by any skilled fighter. This blind spot would not go unnoticed. At that moment, Dute charged with all his might, unleashing the ultimate power of his muscles. His fists appeared as if they were molded from ultimate plastic—powerful and overwhelming. He thrust his fists forward like mortar shells launching into the air.
These projectiles flew toward Freyr, who reacted swiftly and dodged them expertly at close range. However, he couldn't strategize effectively; in the next moment, a larger stone cornered him and struck him squarely in the face. He was knocked back and struggled to rise as blood streamed down half of his cheek—he looked more like an Evil Spirit than ever before—but there was still a glint of murderous intent in his eyes.
Seeing this man charge at him again stirred something within Dute; he too surged forward. But suddenly, a cold and disdainful voice emerged from behind him, sending chills down Dute's spine. In that instant, his muscles contracted back to their normal state just as the man closed in on him.
This beast-like man roared as he clawed at Dute's chest, tearing through layers of subcutaneous tissue. The figure exhaled softly before a Blonde Man beside him moved swiftly; a thin steel needle shot out and struck Freyr at the back of the head, leaving a small wound from which blood dripped onto the steel needle that returned to the Blonde Man's hand. By then, the frenzied Freyr had collapsed to the ground, powerless and unconscious.
Dute gasped heavily and shouted, "Commander! You scared me! And why did Gambet attack him? My duel with him isn't over yet—don't interrupt me!"
"Interrupt you?" Gambet replied coldly with a smirk. "I have time to interrupt if I want to; this is Commander’s idea—the mission is over. This exercise is coming to an end soon. Besides, which eye of yours saw me trying to kill him? I was helping you save him! Once he's better, you can have your match again—even if by then he might not be able to perform at this level anymore; after all, people do improve."
As soon as he finished speaking, a group emerged from the shadows—each carrying about two adults on their backs. They dropped these individuals onto the ground as one young man stepped forward with a noticeably different demeanor from the others.
Dute immediately reined in his arrogance while Stormstream Palace jumped down to greet them. The only sound left on the ground was heavy breathing; everything else fell silent.
"Cario, go treat that guy. Gambet's golden needle has already taken effect. The rest is up to you; make sure to save him. It's fine if he's half-alive; the exercise is over. Using the Regeneration Cradle to reorganize his cells should be enough to restore him, as long as he has a breath left."
"And after releasing these people, we should announce our withdrawal! This time, the Execution Corps is guiding the mission for the army. As their instructors, we need to give these incompetent soldiers a grade."
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