Game’s Dogma

With one leading and the other trailing behind, the distance of one step between them showed to the world their master and servant relationship. The person up front had wavering golden hair like the bright sun, so dazzling that others could hardly keep their eyes on it. The person behind him was like his shadow, concealed beneath the sun.

“I am Zeus,” declared the blonde young man, his voice booming throughout the battlefield, “make way!”

He was Zeus, so all others had to make way for him. To the Western players, this was the ironclad rule that none objected to, but what about the Eastern players?

“The heck? Ya think you’re really a god?”

“Piss off, blonde clown!”

Shouts and jeers rose from the defenders, triggering the Western players’ wrath. They couldn’t tolerate imbeciles who insulted their Divine King. Before they sprung into action, the blonde young man made his move.

A wave of his hand summoned an ancient-looking lance in his hand. It was similar to a knight lance but with a longer handle, and its thick cylindrical body bore arcane swirls. As he pointed it to the sky, the weather took a turn for the worse.

Vroom!

Shades of dark grey condensed above them into stagnant clumps of darkness. A thick electric snake struck his lance from the sky, charging its arcane circuits to give off a bright glow.

Zeus was merciless. He sent a condescending gaze at the defenders with his azure eyes as if was truly a god.

“Get lost!” he roared.

The next moment, he pointed his lance at the entrance from afar and shot a blast of lightning. The three-metre-wide beam bombarded the entrance and obliterated everyone within its path.

“Kill whoever stands in my way!”

At the Divine King’s command, all Western players shouted, “Kill! Kill them all!”

The tower entrance fell in no time.

Butcherer’s motions were simple, yet they contained a fluent sense of beauty to it. He had repeated this particular motion tens of thousands of times—lifting his arm, then swinging his knife.

Just like how he was going to chop pigs up, he swung his knife at an invisible pig in front of him. All he had to do was to sever its bone as he had done so countless times.

The two were ten metres apart, yet Drako Yau still felt goosebumps all over him. The activation of Frost Form turned his vision white. He saw a streak of chi originating from Butcherer’s sword and taking physical form before it cut through the air, creating a vacuum near it as it travelled towards him.

Drako Yau dared not act carelessly. When Butcherer swung his knife, he responded by morphing his arms into crystals fuelled by flames, covering Shooting Star in sparks. Turning his waist, he brought his spear into a sweep. He had never planned on taking hits head on—the old geezer’s spearmanship simply wasn’t such a style.

The tip of his spear struck the streak of chi and changed its trajectory, just enough to steer it past him. He could even hear the sound of it grazing his mask.

“Wonderful. You’ve survived my attack.” Butcherer nodded. “Then take another one.”

He then swung his knife again; such a simple attack didn’t tire him out at all. After all, he had to repeat this day after day for so many years. Just like that, he sent streak after streak of chi blasts at Drako Yau effortlessly.

Drako Yau was certain it wasn’t purely a skill. The most devastating attacks he had faced were all ones that combined internal powers, real-life techniques, and in-game skills. Tigeroar’s Roar of the Forest Tiger and Bloodless Bladester’s special Dash were good proofs.

The bulky fatty might seem sluggish, but that didn’t matter when all he did was bunker down and fire off destructive chi blasts in quick succession. Drako Yau was fearful of receiving the blasts, nor was he confident he could take them on. However, he didn’t have to either.

Butcherer was asking Drako Yau a question with his knife, yet Drako Yau didn’t wish to play to his tune. Butcherer might be repeating the same attack, but that didn’t mean that was his only attack; he was only doing so because he desired to test Drako Yau’s strength through a direct confrontation.

On the other hand, Drako Yau wasn’t willing to take on the test as he attempted to resolve the battle with an alternate solution, such as using footwork.

Butcherer was a fierce opponent with a domineering atmosphere. His attacks contained so much killing intent that they seemed to cut even space itself apart. Perhaps it might seem an exaggerated and mystical way of fighting, yet this was one of the most realistic fights Drako Yau had ever fought in.

“What are you afraid of?” Butcherer asked, unable to anticipate Drako Yau’s thoughts. “If you’re as strong as the Divine King, you have no need to fear my knife.”

“I do not fear your knife.” Drako Yau made a rare response. Mist gradually swirled around him while the ground near him was branded with devastating indents. “It is disdain.”

As Drako Yau continued to evade the incoming attacks, the distance between them was gradually shrinking. He planned on ending the fight in melee range, just as he would when fighting a mage.

After he evaded another chi blast, Drako Yau formed a claw with his left hand and thrust it out, firing off Dragon Capturing Hand. The dragon aura whizzed through the air towards the fat butcher.

“It’s useless.”

Butcherer was as calm as ever. His composure originated from his strength, as well as the resulting confidence in his own strength. He simply swung his knife like he had done so the entire time. If there was a video replay, one would realise all his slashes were the same to the core. 

Countless shadows seemed to converge together before taking form as a single slash. The chi blast clashed against the dragon aura and forcefully severed it.

“My knife can sever any skill.”

One strike to rend the soul, one strike to end a life. Ditching all unnecessary manoeuvres, one strike was all it took to end a life and rend a soul. This was the inheritance, Heavenly Demon Monostrike!

The butcher knife was so short on the surface, but to Drako Yau, it lengthed well over a hundred metres. The surrounding air was its extension, swallowing him like a swamp.

Drako Yau activated phase two of Flame Form and integrated it with Empyreal Dragon Step. Despite being swallowed by the swamp, he struggled with all his might like a loach. It was now a game of hide and seek where the one who was caught by a hit first would lose.

Both of them knew this wasn’t necessary at all. Both of them were unwilling to give in to the opponent’s demand either. Drako Yau detested Butcherer’s intention of testing him by forcing him into a head-on confrontation. On the other hand, Butcherer was dead set on testing Drako Yau’s strength through a direct confrontation to determine whether the man was worthy of being the Divine King’s nemesis.

Regardless of their intent, the distance between them continued to shorten. The closer they were, the more dangerous things would become. It’d be more difficult for Drako Yau to elude the quick and brutal chi blasts, while the same went for Butcherer with Drako Yau’s attacks.

Both of them knew—the victor would be decided in an instant.

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