Chapter 137: More!
Vlad released a long breath, his eyes, hidden behind the strands of long hair that reached all the way to his chest, slowly opened.
Ding...
[Your mana is fully restored.]
"No matter how many times I use it, this skill never ceases to amaze me," he murmured, his lips curling into a faint smile. "I never knew forming a dragon heart had such effects."
The skill Vlad was muttering about was the Art of Dragon Breathing. He had only ever used its initial application, the one that allowed him to form the Dragon Heart, never bothering to learn much about it beyond that. He had assumed forming the heart was the technique’s only use. It was only when he ran out of food for a month, despite stretching resources meant to last six months into a full year, that Vlad discovered this further application of Dragon Breathing.
The art allowed him to absorb the neutral mana from his surroundings, which could be used to replenish his reserves and provide the nourishment his body needed.
"Who knew this place held so much mana," Vlad said, slowly rising to his feet. "If I hadn’t entered the State of Enlightenment for Umbra mana back then, which sharpened my mana sensitivity, I would never have realized just how dense the mana here truly is."
He swept the hair back from his face and tied it behind his head with a strip of cloth torn from his sleeve. A few stray strands still rested against his temples, but they only emphasized how much he had matured. His youthful features had sharpened further, lending him a distinctly masculine look. Even the dirt covering his face could not conceal his charisma.
It was only natural that he had changed. After all, five years had passed since he entered the Ascension Dungeon.
"I’m sorry, Sera," Vlad sighed, a hint of frustration and grief coloring his voice. "I gave it my all, but I couldn’t make it back in time. It must have been two months already in the real world."
He grabbed Éclair, still stabbed into the stone floor beside him, pulled it free, and stepped forward. The ring behind him glowed with a white light. Several runes flared to life on the armored puppet standing within it, along its helm, chestplate, and arms.
Golden mana bled into all six blades of the puppet, doubling their size.
On the other side, Vlad’s sword was wreathed in crimson mana, bolts of lightning dancing along its edge.
"Come at me, bastard," he taunted, tightening his grip on the hilt.
In a sudden burst of motion, the puppet lunged, its swords converging on him from every direction.
Vlad activated the Foresight Eye, his eyes flickering with electric bolts.
’Faster... I need to be faster,’ he thought, the lightning along his blade growing more violent. With practiced precision, he wove through the incoming swords, dodging the first three blades with ease.
After five years of training his eyes, he had extended their foresight from half a second to a full second. The puppet’s shifting sword patterns no longer confused him.
’More strength. I need to channel more mana into the sword.’
A thick layer of mana surged into the blade, swelling its size, as he skillfully deflected the next three swords aside rather than meeting them head-on, a technique he had learned after analysing the battle with Marcus.
’More precision. The blade needs to be sharper.’ The dense mana around his longsword compressed as his jaw tightened, and he swung the blade in a vertical arc.
A thin, sharp line appeared across the chestplate of the puppet, the first time he had managed to cut through the armor rather than merely leave a mark.
Before the puppet could overwhelm him with another flurry of attacks, he vanished instantly using Lightning Step, reappearing behind it.
He thrust his sword forward. As it had many times before, the puppet swung a blade from its back upward from below.
"More power!" Vlad roared, a thunderous crack of lightning following his words. The mana around the blade surged again, piercing the puppet’s back and knocking it forward a few steps. He kept up the pressure, closing in with Lightning Step once more.
He had barely settled into position when he saw a blade slice clean through his arm, severing it completely.
It was a translucent blade, one that would struck him a second later in the future.
Instead of dodging, he answered with his own blade.
Clang!
The reverberating sound of their swords colliding echoed through the hall, sending dust scattering outward from where they stood.
"Still not enough! I need to push more mana!" Vlad shouted, his arms reddening as blood rushed through them, veins straining near their limit.
Crack!
The lightning surged along the blade, finally forcing the puppet’s sword back.
Five more blades followed with the same intensity, one coming within a hair’s breadth of his side.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
With equal intensity, his blade met each one head-on, the mana compressing and lengthening the blade with every strike.
"More!" he screamed, swinging his sword down in a vertical arc and severing one of the puppet’s arms. At the same moment, the puppet’s blade pierced his shoulder.
Blood poured out, splattering onto the stone floor already darkened by dried blood from countless duels before.
He ignored the pain, his eyes fixed only on the opponent before him as he began swinging his sword so fast it seemed there were four blades at once, clashing against the four incoming strikes simultaneously.
"More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More! More!"
One by one, the puppet’s severed arms fell to the ground, the precision and strength of his blade growing sharper with every strike. His eyes had rolled back, showing only white, yet he never stopped swinging.
With one final wide horizontal slash, his sword struck the puppet’s neck and cleanly severed its head.
The head tumbled through the air for a few seconds before slamming onto the ground, followed by the heavy thud of the broken puppet falling backward.
In the ring, only Vlad remained standing, breathing heavily. In his hand, pointed downward, was Éclair, wreathed in intensely sharp mana, crackling with crimson lightning that had grown to nearly the double of the blade’s size.