[Chapter 63] Sion – Blood Arena III

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Got you! Sion shattered the last phoenix. Now finishing this will be simple.

Bang, bang, bang. Bullets whizzed by harmlessly. It’ll be over long before those start hitting. Since the Blood Arena’s stakes were real, the blessing was in full effect.

Eight left. Who’s next? Sion was angry, but not because of his lost shark-tooth spear. I was planning on discarding it anyway. The Northern Emperor had promised him a worthy weapon. No, he was irritated this farce was lasting so long.

Amazingly, they even have a prospect of victory, no matter how fleeting. His foresight warned him of three threats. The first was Ethan’s clone. How on Enera did he obtain Diamonds Edge? Fortunately, ‘Heaven Splitter’ was easy enough to evade. Next was Jenna’s clone, the one pointlessly shooting. She had an unblockable bullet reeking of death. Which asshole gave her that? Last, there was Sola’s clone. He couldn’t let her touch him for some reason. As long as I’m not immobilized, I’ll be fine.

Sion chose Astra’s clone. The ice walls she keeps dropping are annoying. Zigzagging across to her, he unleashed a flurry of jabs. The girl guarded with two short swords, barely deflecting the barrage into glancing blows. Impressive, but this ends soon. Her ice armor was being stripped away. Next will be her flesh.

“Fire Wall!”

A green blaze erupted around his victim, driving him back. Shocked, Astra’s clone watched the inferno flow harmlessly around her. She peered behind him, and Sion followed her gaze to Nero’s double, cradling the severed corpse. The boy looked at him with teary, determined eyes and yelled, “Fire Wall.”

Sion jumped aside. It couldn’t be…? The tip of his spear was aflame. He whirled it around, but the weapon burned stubbornly. Soulfire…

Resembling a brighter ghastfire, soulfire consumed all sorcery its caster deemed hostile. This included golden constructs as well as magic circulating internally as fuel for martial arts. With continued exposure, even consciousness would be incinerated away. As if circumstances weren’t aggravating enough, leave it to Nero’s clone to find the necromancy I despise the most.

Sion had known fate would be against him. It was the same back at that village. He doubted his young opponents realized how much aid they were receiving. The ground was so slippery it might as well have been covered in oil. He was compensating with golden puddles, but his speed still suffered. Otherwise this would’ve concluded ages ago.

As the ‘child killer’, he’d learned much about fighting in such hostile conditions. Most critically, nothing could be left to chance. Which makes chaotic elements like soulfire problematic. Its random spread would be accelerated a dozen fold. Sion observed the emerald flames surging up his spear, melting and disintegrating. He grimaced. Facing soulfire with the odds stacked so heavily against me… If he caught fire, it might take several attempts to extinguish himself. That’s if I can put it out at all…

Sion threw away his lance, creating another. How vexing. This wouldn’t change the outcome, but it’d make the process longer.

“Fire Wall.” Again? He hopped back. What does he hope to accomplish with such predicable—— “Fire wall. Fire wall. Fire wall.” Sion scrambled as the Blood Arena became stripped with criss-crossing emerald flames.

Six times? Sion experienced a cold sweat. Necromancy this advanced? He glanced back and noticed the book gleaming wickedly in the boy’s lap. A spell circle floated above. Apprehensively, Sion recalled Nero’s recent statement, ‘As long as he has the will, the Necronomicon will lend him strength.’

That book isn’t simply a collection of knowledge. It’s a catalyst, one which allows casting through its pages! A chill ran down his spine. Nero clearly intended his clone to be his replacement. Did the infallible hero err? That seemed almost as inconceivable as him losing.

The boy dies now. Sion threw his spear. An ice barrier arose, but the immortal forced it through with telekinesis. This is no longer a game. Unfortunately, the aura brats pounced, dragging the slowed weapon into a flaming wall. Sion sneered at the setback, materializing a dozen javelins in the air. Let’s see them block this…

A black ninja appeared from nowhere, slicing his golden armor with a powerful downward swing. He felt a sting as his skin was pierced. Damnable insect! Instantly summoning a spear, the immortal aimed for the head. Destroying the brain prevented substitutions. You drew blood, but it’ll cost you your miserable life!

“Freeze.” Sion grunted at the magic. Although he’d been prepared for more time manipulation, what assaulted him was incomparably stronger. With his spear boring into the shinobi’s face, he felt the world speed up, and then sand collapsed before him. These wretched pests…

A feverish grogginess hit him. A curse from that shinobi blade? Dodging a grenade, Sion took stock. It’s not too bad, but I can’t risk a second dose. If the affliction was the stacking variety, it’d be crippling. I should give up the offensive. No catalyst, no matter how powerful, can extend its owner’s strength indefinitely. Nero’s clone will collapse shortly.

Sion had reached the Wall through innumerable struggles. He knew the key to surviving was keeping a cool head before the unexpected. My opponents may not be saints, but they’re doppelgangers of the strongest immortals, many wielding legendary weapons. It’s time to stop thinking of them as children. He’d bide his time for the opportunity to strike.