Chapter 229: The Strongest Shield and the Strongest Spear (5)
The eighth rule of surviving in Liqueur: never save trump moves.
The first strike of White Cloud, imbued with Tusk and the Demon Arrow, was Keter’s ultimate move. It was the only technique capable of completely piercing the Divine Ironblood Physique’s ninety-two-layered shield. Keter made sure that Hyperion was conscious of White Cloud and the Demon Arrow. Because of that, Hyperion remained wary of it the whole time. And by discovering Ironblood’s weak “tail,” Keter planted a second seed of caution in him.
Keter deliberately dragged the fight out, as that was the only way to get the moment he wanted. He endured and endured until Hyperion’s vigilance peaked and, conversely, his mental reserves hit their limit.
If not for Decameron and the Oath of Death, I couldn’t have used this strategy.
Decameron wasn’t fighting, but his mere presence pressured Hyperion. Without the artifact, the Oath of Death, which split damage between its wearers, he couldn’t have lasted until now—until the moment Hyperion would finally be willing to accept sacrifice.
That moment was when Hyperion deliberately disassembled the Divine Ironblood Physique. It was a temptation—by lowering the shield, he was baiting Keter to attack more aggressively. It was a completely different style from when Hyperion was going for a perfect victory.
That makes sense. Bearing the title of the Fist Emperor’s heir, taking a serious wound from an opponent far weaker than you would crack his pride.
A warrior’s pride was more important than life itself, but when life was truly at stake, a warrior would briefly tuck that pride away.
So, Keter moved exactly like Hyperion wanted. He dashed into Hyperion’s chest, aiming for his heart, which Hyperion did as well. At a glance, it looked like a reckless mutual suicide, but it wasn’t. Just before impact, Hyperion twisted unexpectedly. Keter followed but failed to hit his heart. Instead, Keter pierced his lung, and Hyperion’s fist cleanly drove through his heart.
“Di-did I finish him?”
You fool. Of course not.
The ninth rule of surviving in Liqueur: the more trump moves, the better.