Chapter 214 A single strike

Harry exhaled heavily, his golden aura flickering weakly before it completely faded.

Lyla clenched her fists but eventually sighed, her Water Aura dispersing into harmless mist.

They both knew.

They had lost.

Max hadn't even taken a single hit.

Lyla gritted her teeth, her frustration evident.

"Damn it… I wanted to beat you alone."

Harry simply let out a tired chuckle.

"I told you it would end quickly."

Max smirked, dispelling the swords with a flick of his wrist.

"Well, at least you made me go all out—somewhat."

Lyla scoffed but crossed her arms.

"Next time, it'll be different."

Harry nodded in agreement, "Yeah, but next time, we'll be stronger."

Max grinned.

"Good. Then maybe next time, I'll actually have to try."

The battle was over.

They came down.

Max had won.

But—

There was no satisfaction in his victory.

Harry and Lyla were strong—but not strong enough.

Nowhere near the level of Ravenna, Arthur, or Amelia.

They had pushed him hard.

Forced him to use cards he hadn't wanted to reveal.

But on the other hand—

Harry and Lyla together… did nothing.

They had failed to scratch him. Failed to pressure him.

They were geniuses, but a level below them.

'Why are they so weak if they're from the Lost Continent?'

Max frowned.

The Lost Continent had always been said to produce far superior geniuses compared to Valora Continent.

It was fact—proven by years of defeats suffered by Valora's best.

Every three years, geniuses from Valora Continent traveled to the Lost Continent for the Tower of Truth.

But—

Only a few ever left a mark in the tower.

The records. The achievements.

They all belonged to the geniuses from the Lost Continent.

The Valora Continent's best?

They were nothing more than stepping stones.

So why—

Why were Harry and Lyla this underwhelming?

Max's gaze shifted.

He glanced at Envoy Lucas—who was now speaking to Harry and Lyla in hushed tones.

And then—

Realization dawned.

'Could it be… he wanted me to fight weaker geniuses?'

Or—

'Is it that no geniuses stronger than Harry and Lyla have come to Valora at all?'

Assumptions piled up in his mind.

But he wasn't sure of any of them.

"Envoy Lucas, I hope you hold on to your end of the deal."

Max's voice cut through the air, his gaze locked onto the Envoy, who was still speaking with Harry and Lyla.

Lucas glanced up, his usual smirk returning.

"Ah, Max. Good fight. You defeated them both—quite easily, I might add."

His tone carried a hint of appreciation, but also something else—curiosity.

Then, he nodded.

"As for our deal—don't worry. We will be leaving a day before the birthday of the King of the West. Wouldn't want to miss such an occasion, would we?"

Max listened silently.

"So, come to me that day, and we will depart together. Or—" Lucas shrugged. "Just find me in the West anytime before our expedition team leaves for the Mourning Depths."

His smirk deepened.

"Either way, I'll be expecting you."

Max nodded in relief.

Everything had gone smoothly with Envoy Lucas.

'They seemed arrogant… but not Envoy Lucas.'

He was calm. Easygoing.

A stark contrast to what Max had heard about him.

The warnings he had received after leaving the temple—

People had expected trouble.

They thought Lucas would make things difficult for him.

But instead—

Nothing.

Lucas had acknowledged him. Respected the deal.

Max's lips curled slightly.

'I guess I'm genius enough to be taken seriously by them.'

Then—

"Max, are you ready?"

Devin's loud voice echoed across the sky.

Max turned, looking up.

There he was—brandishing his sword, his stance oozing arrogance.

"Come now."

Devin's grin widened.

"I will show you—no matter how strong you think you are, in front of a Seeker Rank expert, even at Level 1, you are nothing but an ant."

His sword glowed, his aura pulsing with raw power.

Then—

"But I wonder… will you even be alive to know that? To experience the gap?"

His words were laced with mockery.

Max remained calm.

His gaze shifted—not to Devin, but to the other four Monarch geniuses.

His eyes sharpened.

Aurelia saw it.

That look.

And she understood.

If Max won here—

He would slaughter them all.

She sighed inwardly.

'The East will be in chaos after this battle.' Find adventures on My Virtual Library Empire

***

Max floated upward and came in the air.

He stood at a little distance away from Devin.

Devin smirked.

"You can start. I'll give you the chance to attack first."

Max's expression remained calm.

"Don't regret it."

Then—

BOOOOM!

The air shattered as Max exploded forward.

His body blurred, moving faster than the eye could track.

Dash. Super Dash. Phantom Dash.

All activated at once.

His flight techniques—Float, Wind Float, Sky Float—gave him absolute control over movement.

He became a streak of unstoppable force.

But Devin only grinned seeing that.

And then—

Came the power.

His sword flashed.

30% Fusion State Aura surged forth.

The very space around him trembled.

But—

Max suppressed it, condensed it.

The devastating force didn't leak—it sharpened. Focused.

15 Draconic Scales activated.

Muscles tightened. Strength reinforced. Power brimming.

Yet—

No excess energy escaped.

Everything was under his absolute control.

Then—

His stance shifted.

Sword angled at 45 degrees.

Momentum Sword Technique.

Horizon Split.

And—

Max vanished.

Vanished from Devin's point of view.

His smirk barely had time to falter before—

A flash of steel.

A blur of motion.

His instincts screamed—but too late.

Too late to even use his Vital Shell.

Too late to even react.

At that moment—

Max's eyes met Devin's.

For a brief moment—

Time itself seemed to slow.

Then—

A silent pulse rippled through the air.

Space Freeze—Activated.

Devin's body locked in place.

He could neither react nor activate any treasures to block the attack.

His body refused to move.

Frozen. Paralyzed. Helpless.

That split-second pause—just an instant—was all it took.

But in a battle at this level—

An instant was fatal.

Devin barely caught a glimpse of Max—

His sword already descending.

Aimed straight for his heart.

Fast. Too fast.

A streak of light.

A whisper of death.

But he stood frozen in space.

The blade cut through him effortlessly.

For a moment—

Devin felt… nothing.

Just a faint pressure. A whisper of pain that barely registered.

Max reappeared behind him.

Devin exhaled sharply, turning his head to mock.

"Huh? Your attack barely—"

Then—

His words froze.

A thin, dark line stretched from his shoulder to his waist.

Then—

SPLURCH!

His body split in two.

A clean, precise cut.

Perfectly executed.

For a brief moment—

Devin's eyes remained open in disbelief.

Then—

His severed torso fell in opposite directions.

Max didn't even glance back.

One strike.

That was all it took.

The entire crowd of guests fell into silence.

No cheers. No murmurs.

Not even a single breath dared to disturb the suffocating stillness.

The spectators had expected a battle—

An intense clash of power, a desperate struggle where both fighters would push each other to their limits.

That's what they had seen before.

That's what they had anticipated.

Instead—

They saw a blur.

A single flicker of movement.

And then—

Devin was already dead.

His body split cleanly from shoulder to waist, collapsing in opposite directions like a broken statue.

No struggle. No resistance.

Just one attack.

One moment of overwhelming force.

The realization sank in—deep, crushing, inescapable.

Shock twisted into something darker.

Something primal.

Fear.

Their eyes—once filled with excitement—

Now reflected only horror.

Horror from the rage of the Monarch.