Chapter 353
Chapter 353: Sorry, I Couldn't Let You Fight at Full Strength
The storm and the violent downpour raged like frenzied dancers through that shattered, once-glorious golden hall.
Viktor stood amid the churning hurricane and rain, his Coat behind him seemingly alive, whipping and thrashing wildly in the gale.
In the depths of his eyes, something like blue-white Magic Power seemed to flow, and as the hurricane accelerated, it swallowed up the crumbling golden walls one after another.
Rocks were stripped from the walls by the wind—weightless dancers colliding and shattering in midair.
Before Viktor, the 2 Tiger-folk were wrapped in a thin, flowing luminous aura, their bodies gradually growing more massive than before.
The piercing light in their eyes seemed capable of cutting through the hurricane itself, locked firmly onto Viktor.
In an instant, 3 figures became entangled like whirlwinds clashing.
Every exchange of fists and kicks felt like a contest of raw force.
The female Tiger-folk shot down from mid-air like a fired arrow, driving straight at Viktor's face.
Another orange figure seemed to partner with the earth itself—crossing the floodwaters and sending the surface surging in its wake—as a sweeping hook aimed to connect with Viktor's waist.
Those 2 gusts of force tore through the air, shattering every large raindrop that fell between them.
Fists wrapped in aura, the shockwaves then blasted apart the fragments of spray once more.
At the very moment those high-speed fists were about to make contact with Viktor, he dissolved into water again—his liquid form vanishing in an instant.
Though the 2 Tiger-folk reacted swiftly, by the time they detected Viktor's position it was already too late.
The floodwater surged upward, gradually reshaping into Viktor's body.
He braced one hand against the fractured ground, and the water clinging to him burst off in all directions.
Viktor's head was nearly flush with the ground, ducking beneath the hook that came from the side. The sharp wooden sword swept low, driving at the Tiger Lord's legs.
In the Tiger Lord's eyes, that rough wooden sword, in this moment, had the look of Death's blade.
The Tiger Lord leapt rapidly upward, avoiding the wooden sword that sliced past at speed, abandoning its attack.
But the slash had clearly been a feint. The next second, Viktor planted one hand on the ground and swung both legs up.
Like a handstand, he rotated his body.
That whirlwind-like spinning kick drove ferociously into the abdomens of both Tiger-folk at once.
BOOM—!
2 surges of force struck directly into their internal organs, like boulders crashing into the earth.
The accompanying hurricane cut through them like a blade, punching a deep hole into the golden wall behind.
The 2 Tiger-folk, after taking such a blow, coughed up 2 sprays of blood.
Their arms went limp and swaying like branches in the wind, and their bodies were sent flying backward.
Even as they swiftly corrected their posture mid-air, when their feet struck the flooded ground they still skidded back over 10 meters.
Ripples scattered outward like shattered jade. The 2 Tiger-folk steadied themselves, feet set in a solid stance, fists crossed before their chests, adjusting their breathing.
They stood upon the churning, rippling floodwater, feet planted, fists braced across their chests, regulating their breath.
Viktor had long since returned to his position, wooden sword still in hand, rain slicking its surface.
On his calm face, there was not the faintest trace of pressure.
The 2 Tiger-folk felt his composure and self-assurance, and their own steadied aura began to tremble ever so slightly.
Those watching the exchange that had just unfolded at blinding speed broke into a wave of astonished cries in the midst of the downpour.
The shock was written plainly across every face, sweeping them so completely into the battle that their eyes grew dry and stinging from the storm before they finally, painfully, squeezed them shut.
This fierce engagement had already lasted more than 1 hour. The Tiger-folk came at Viktor in relentless waves, like a squall in a gale, one assault after another.
Yet Viktor stood like bedrock, perfectly deflecting every attack.
Each of his counter-strikes was uncannily precise—as if divinely guided—always catching the Tiger-folk's openings at exactly the right moment and driving them back.
What stunned the onlookers most of all was Viktor's terrifying stamina.
His physical endurance was nothing like what any normal Mage should have.
Under the 2 Tiger-folk's dense, unrelenting assault—with no time to rest whatsoever—even an ordinary warrior would have felt tremendous strain.
Yet Viktor had held on this long, and beyond merely holding on, was landing effective counterattacks against 2 Tiger-folk simultaneously.
Was he really a Mage?
Viktor looked at the 2 Tiger-folk before him and gave the wooden sword a light flick, sending the rainwater clinging to it flying off.
"Giving up already?"
"It seems you aren't as strong as you imagined."
The 2 Tiger-folk erupted in fury. Their drenched fur bristled all across their bodies.
The muscles of their faces twitched rapidly, the flames of rage flooding their eyes as if they would set themselves ablaze from within.
Their lips peeled back in a grotesque grin until the corners nearly touched the roots of their ears, the cold, bone-white fangs bared to the air, an expression of unbounded ferocity.
This kind of rage and humiliation was more than they could bear.
But the facts were before them: even fighting 2 against 1, they had been worn to gasping exhaustion by Viktor, their bodies covered in wounds.
Had Viktor been a powerful warrior, they could have accepted it.
But he was just a Mage!
The 2 Tiger-folk threw back their heads and roared at the sky. The terrifying bellow pierced the heavens and flooded every ear in the hall.
Everyone present was so rattled by that roar that they clapped their hands over their ears, heads spinning.
Only Viktor remained exactly where he was, eyes narrowed, expression unchanged.
The next second, a frightening eruption of power burst from beneath the 2 Tiger-folk's feet.
A towering slab of earth was hurled upward, water waves pitched high, dragging fractured ground with them and driving into the golden walls.
The 2 Tiger-folk shot forward like orange missiles, transforming into blurred afterimages.
Viktor moved with equal swiftness—wind elements coiling around his body.
He seemed to become the hurricane itself, his form a blur of afterimages streaking and weaving across the water's surface.
3 rapidly moving figures left sharp, reverberating echoes in the space around them.
To the watching eyes, all that was visible were ghostly afterimages colliding with one another.
The only proof that their clash was real were the towering plumes of water that erupted each time the 3 impacted.
The afterimages collided at lightning speed, and the hurricane birthed from each exchange grew ever more violent.
The 2 Tiger-folk moved like lightning across the floodwater, their forms flashing through the space.
Then, a calm voice slowly sounded:
"Speed—you are nowhere near my level."
Their pupils contracted sharply, fixed upon that specter-like figure—pale and azure fused together—charging toward them with even greater velocity.
The piercing force and speed had already pushed them past the limits of what their eyes could track.
All they could make out was a blurred streak of wood slashing past, leaving wound after wound across their bodies.
They reached out, trying to catch it—and grasped only the empty passage of wind.
Viktor was like the wind itself, his figure elusive, sweeping past them again and again.
Almost in the blink of an eye, countless crimson lines erupted across the Tiger-folk's skin, bright red blood spraying like rain, falling into the floodwaters.
Before every eye in the hall, the clear water was gradually stained red, and the air grew thick with the iron tang of blood.
The female tiger let out a furious roar and drove a fist with full force into one of Viktor's afterimages.
Whoosh—!
The tremendous force tore through the air with a thunderous crack.
This time, she connected.
But the Viktor she struck simply stood exactly where he was, completely unmoved.
Before her eyes, Viktor hadn't even raised a hand to block.
Only at his back—a massive, thick wooden vine hand that had grown there at some unknown moment—had seized her tiger's claw in an iron grip.
That arm seemed to be wound tight with emerald-green Magic Patterns, interwoven with intricate Runes, layered over and over.
The restrained female tiger strained with all her strength, but that enormous wooden palm seemed to possess boundless power—utterly unbreakable.
Not a single one of those 5 wooden fingers could be pried loose.
Only Viktor's cold voice sounded, composed and unhurried:
"Strength—you are also insufficient."
Watching the female Tiger-folk fall into difficulty, unable to move.
The Tiger Lord's pupils contracted slightly as it fixed its gaze on Viktor, wrapped in those Magic Patterns.
It put all 4 limbs to the ground and launched its body upward in an instant, leaning forward, claws and fangs converging on Viktor together.
Viktor had long since clocked the male tiger's movement and calmly raised the wooden sword in his right hand to defend.
But the Tiger-folk shrewdly adjusted mid-motion, twisting its fist around the edge of Viktor's wooden sword, sweeping in a horizontal arc directly toward Viktor's face.
The force of the rushing air was nearly upon him.
In that instant, the noble lords watching went wide-eyed with alarm.
If that punch landed, Viktor as a Mage would very likely be stripped of his combat capability entirely.
The onlookers, seeing this, were seized with panic.
But the next second, something none of them anticipated happened.
Abruptly, the corner of Viktor's mouth curved faintly upward.
At some unknown moment, he had already raised the other arm—the one that had made no movement throughout the entire fight.
On that arm, a Round Shield appeared in an instant, dark and suffused with an eerie, sinister energy.
The shield's surface bore the grotesque face of a demon, and embedded above it were 2 rubies that gleamed like crimson eyes.
Sensing the malevolent aura radiating from the shield, the Tiger-folk's eyes went wide.
It twisted sharply, trying to pull away, but the fist had already committed its force—impossible to pull back.
And so that heavy punch landed with perfect accuracy on the Round Shield.
Bang!
With a heavy, muffled sound, the Tiger-folk was instantly plunged into a Stagger state.
Almost the moment the Stagger hit, the wooden vine blade in Viktor's right hand was swallowed up again by vines, transforming into an enormous wooden hammer.
The great hammer swept from below upward, dragging across the flooded ground and swinging toward the sky.
More precisely—it swung directly into the male tiger's body.
BOOM—!
Under that terrifying hammer blow, its body was like a vessel capsized by a great wave.
Its limbs contorted, as if its internal organs had suffered the same devastating impact.
From every orifice save the ears, crimson blood burst forth, mixing with the rain into something especially horrifying.
The enormous orange body carved an arc through the air and came crashing into the floodwater.
Then—dazed—the Tiger Lord pulled itself back from the verge of unconsciousness, rapidly righting its body mid-air.
It landed with a thunderous crash.
One tiger's claw pressed against the wet ground, one knee on the ground.
The other tiger's claw raised and wiped the blood mixed with rainwater from the corner of its mouth.
The tiger-man's gaze locked rigidly onto Viktor before it.
In this moment, it actually felt, in the domain it was most suited for—close-quarters combat—a trace of…
Fear.
They had been fighting this long.
And it had not touched the other party. Not once.
Was that even possible?
And those watching, seeing the Tiger-folk now bleeding from every orifice, were equally overwhelmed with shock.
What exactly had just happened?
They had seen with their own eyes Viktor very nearly driven into a disadvantageous position.
And yet in a single instant, Viktor had turned the situation from disadvantage to advantage.
That hammer blow just now—even though the Tiger-folk and Viktor were some distance apart from where they stood—the violent force of it still made their hearts lurch.
Viktor looked at the male Tiger-folk before him, and his voice came out, unhurried:
"As for technique?"
"I don't believe you can surpass me there either."
Viktor's other hand swung outward in a sudden motion. The enormous wooden hand swept with it, hurling the female tiger forcefully toward the Tiger Lord.
That orange figure broke through the air, like an orange meteor streaking across the flooded ground.
Water sprayed in all directions. Her limp body shot rapidly toward the Tiger Lord.
The sweeping gale unleashed by the wooden hand's swing swept across the faces of everyone watching.
That nearly tearing sensation struck every noble in the hall in an instant.
The sharp pain cut through their faces and straight down their spines.
The female tiger also steadied herself in the air, landing heavily on the ground.
Viktor regarded the 2 Tiger-folk with a calm gaze.
As though carrying that invincible air, his voice came out, unhurried:
"If this is the extent of what you've got."
"You haven't given me a satisfying fight yet."