Just when they thought Max had been cornered, a sight unfolded before their eyes—one so extraordinary that it would etch itself into their mories forever.
A single, quiet sword strike.
Not a blinding flash of light, not a thunderous explosion—just a mont of unparalleled stillness, followed by an outco that no one had anticipated.
Most could only catch faint glimpses of Max's strike—fleeting shadows of motion, too swift to comprehend fully. It was as though ti had bent around the edge of his blade, rendering the act imperceptible to all but the most discerning eyes. That 'quiet sword,' so unassuming yet so absolute, descended with an elegance that belied its destructive power.
The result was instant and devastating. Arthur, who had seed invincible monts ago, was reduced to fragnts—his body cut into countless pieces, disintegrating into glowing particles of red light.
Even those who had barely managed to glimpse the slash could feel its weight still lingering, an echo of mastery and precision that sent shivers down their spines.
The Battle Realm was left in silence, save for the murmurs of disbelief. This was no ordinary swordsmanship—it was the revelation of a genius who had achieved sothing extraordinary, sothing far beyond what they had expected.
For the gathered prodigies, one thing was clear: the day they witnessed Max's quiet sword would remain burned into their mories, a mont they would never forget.
"Did you notice the mont before he struck?" Veylin asked, frowning as he turned to Aelric.
Crown Prince Aelric nodded. "It was there, even if just for a split second—an aura that clearly hadn't reached level 3 but had the intent behind it that could rival a level 3 aura. Moreover, that attack…" His voice trailed off as he turned to Veylin. "Could you dodge that attack if you were in Arthur's shoes?"
Veylin's expression darkened as he understood what Aelric ant. He remained silent and turned his attention back to the battle between Asha and Jack, which had just resud after the previous debacle.
Crown Prince Aelric smiled slightly, seeing no reaction from Veylin, but his curiosity about Max grew after he had taken care of Arthur in re seconds.
On the other hand, Max, after delivering the decisive blow, calmly turned toward one of the towering pillars. His gaze locked onto Arthur, who had reappeared, alive and fully intact, his body restored by the rules of the Battle Realm.
"You lose," Max stated, his voice steady as he pointed his sword at Arthur.
Arthur trembled at those words, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The bitterness of defeat weighed on him like a crushing mountain. 'He had been so close'—so close to victory, so close to slaying Max, and so close to harnessing the power of a Level 1 Concept.
Yet, in an instant, everything he had worked for had been shattered.
Rage surged through him, his glare fixed on Max like a burning fla.
'This isn't over,' Arthur vowed silently. His fury was palpable, his mind consud by a single, seething thought: 'I will kill you, Max!' Enjoy new tales from My Virtual Library Empire
No matter how long it took or what price he had to pay, this humiliation would not go unanswered. Once their trials in the temple concluded, he would ensure Max's downfall.
But amidst his anger, Arthur couldn't escape the sharp sting of frustration gnawing at his core. He alone understood the rigid, almost impossible conditions required to break the shackles of a Level 3 Aura.
He had pushed himself to the brink, risking everything to grasp the power of the 'Level 1 Concept of Mist.' He had tasted the edge of greatness, yet that power had slipped through his fingers.
The most excruciating part wasn't just his defeat—it was the knowledge of what could have been. 'If' he had managed to control the Level 1 Concept of Mist, even slightly, his path forward would have been unparalleled. Just a glimr of comprehension, just a mont of resonance with the concept, could have set him apart from every other genius in the Battle Realm. His future would have been limitless.
But reality was cruel, and all that remained now was 'if.'
Arthur stood there, trembling with suppressed anger and regret, his mind replaying the decisive mont over and over. The sheer weight of his failure pressed down on him, yet deep inside, it only fueled his desire for vengeance.
For now, he would bide his ti. But when the opportunity arose, Max would pay for what he had done.
"You aren't a true fighter at all!" Just then, a loud and enraged shout reached everyone's ears.
Max turned toward Asha's stage, where a battle was raging. Glancing at the fifth stage, Max noticed the battle there had already ended, leaving only the ongoing battle at Asha's stage.
As Max observed the battle, he found the situation there a bit odd.
Asha, the woman with the mask from the Black Lotus guild, seed to be standing calmly, surrounded by ten blazing spheres of black flas.
Not far from her stood Jack, the Mad Sword, though he was currently huffing, taking deep breaths as if he had already exhausted all his strength in the battle that had led them to this point.
"You're no warrior at all," Jack snarled, his voice tight with frustration. "You fight like a coward, hiding behind those black flaming spheres. The whole battle, you haven't even moved! All you do is sit there, letting those things block every one of my attacks."
His grip tightened on his weapon as his face darkened, veins bulging on his temples. "Where's the fun in that?!" he bellowed, his voice rising to a furious pitch.
Asha's expression remained calm, her gaze as cold as the void. Slowly, she parted her lips, her tone sharp and cutting. "Fun? You misunderstand the purpose of this battle," she said, her voice a blade of ice. "You're simply too weak to compel to attack."
She stepped forward, her black flaming spheres circling her in an elegant, unhurried dance, each radiating an oppressive, smothering energy. Her voice dropped to a chilling calm. "Soon enough, you'll understand what true despair feels like. That mont when every ounce of your strength proves useless, when every attempt to breach my defense crumbles before you."
Her eyes glead with an unsettling light, the faintest smirk curving her lips. "It's then you'll realize the truth: your efforts were nothing more than a child's tantrum. Your strength is aningless. And you? You are nothing to ."
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