Thorian further transford a part of his mana that was already flowing all over his body into its purest form, then absorbed it back, refilling his energy reserves.
It almost felt like a new world had been opened in front of him. The energy expenditure in adapting his energy to various uses, one after another, was also far less taxing than it would have been normally.
Thorian then saw the disbelieving look on his brother’s face and grinned, "You talk on and on and on and on... about Low and high blood like a sign that you have to flash in front of the world. All while knowing in your heart that you are nothing without it."
"Which was why father gave this pill to as a form of silent acknowledgnt," iterated Thorian.
"Because at the end of the day, it is I who obtained the very attribute of our father. In fact, he was the one who made sure that this remains a secret, because he knew his insecure bitch of an eldest son would start to bark like a dog in heat," he added with a sneer.
Nox could not contain his rage any longer as he dashed forward with a murderous look. Thorian also charged forward with furious intent to kill; their swords t in a destructive clash.
But Thorian was unable to withstand that clash, as his figure shot backward more than 50 ters in an instant.
His hand that held the sword was instantly injured due to the sheer overwhelming power that his brother now commanded.
He spat out the blood coming out of his mouth, but a smile ford on his lips; his adaptation was already working overdrive, adapting to the energy signature of his brother.
Not only that, but Thorian was also adapting his energy to produce a special form of power, then pushing it into his brain to keep his mind sharp and refreshed, which would help him think quickly. Through that, he could use another ability, charging forward once more, he mumbled, "Technique adaptation."
By overclocking both his brain and his energy, he entered a sort of enhanced flow state, a manually engineered trance condition amid the battle, through which he could easily understand and counter his brother’s techniques.
Their clash grew deadlier with each passing second, and Thorian’s prowess continued to shock Nox even more. Of course, the eldest prince of Blackvale was no fool; he knew very well how his family’s adaptation attribute worked.
If used correctly and with enough versatility, this was one of the most broken abilities ever. So, he had to end it as fast as possible. Because the longer it dragged on, the worse it would be for him. Which was why each attack he now perford was intended to kill.
He had already let go of his sadistic desire to keep Thorian half alive to see him forever in pain. His younger brother was too dangerous; he couldn’t be kept alive.
In fact, the most frightening thought was that even if he did manage to seriously injure Thorian, what were the chances that his brother could use his adaptation and just co back stronger?
After all, that was the principle, the motto of the Blackvale Dynasty.
As if reading his mind, Thorian pushed forward with his blade, his body covered in deadly injuries, yet he stood in a chilling grace, looking at Nox with a gaze that pierced into his very soul,
"Brother, what doesn’t kill ... only makes stronger."
BANG!!!!!
CLANKK!!!!
Both then separated, creating so distance between them.
A cruel and vicious expression appeared on Nox’s face; a glint flashed in his eyes as he arched his hand backward, pouring almost 80% of his remaining reserves onto the sword, as if ready for a final, destructive attack.
Thorian’s gaze beca solemn. He was not afraid, ready to throw his own powerful attack, and at this mont, Nox spoke, "Actually, there is one thing I didn’t tell you about, little brother."
His face abruptly changed to a monstrous grin, looking like a murderous psychopath, as he finally revealed, "Your whore mother, she is actually dead.....hahahhaahah."
"She was tortured for almost a week before death. Every mont of her agony, it’s all recorded, saved in a place only I know."
The mont he spoke those words, it was as if the world itself went deathly silent.
Thorian’s pupils widened in terror and disbelief, all the fine control and continuous adaptation of his energy against Nox, as well as his flow state, to counter Nox’s techniques.
Everything went erratic, as his mind was shaken to the extre. Nox did not wait a single millisecond and threw the sword in a manner as if he were throwing a spear. It shot out like a booming missile. Mid-flight, the sword transford into a blazing red spear.
The spear pierced straight through the stomach of Thorian, his body was dragged thirty ters back, and the spear, while on his stomach, impaled him onto the ground.
Nox grinned viciously, his mind filled with ecstasy. The bastard was done; now, just one more blow to cut off his head, and the throne would finally be his.
He walked closer, glee apparent in his eyes. He saw Thorian struggling, completely bloodied, his attribute barely working, pulling onto the spear, his upper body slightly tilted up. Nox saw Thorian looking at him with hatred even greater than before.
Nox did not rush there, walking leisurely. Then he heard Thorian speak in a broken voice. At first, he didn’t understand because he wasn’t paying attention, but the second ti, when his defeated brother restated it, he heard the words clearly.
"I...already knew...you wretch..." Thorian’s voice was hoarse.
Nox frowned, and Thorian said again, but the words seed to take out the last of his energies, "I, arghh already knew....you were going to kill her....cough...."
Nox froze, just 15 ters away from him. For a mont, genuine confusion crossed his eyes, yet he eventually smiled. ’This bastard, he is actually trying to buy ti, using his mother as an excuse, wow...’
Just as he was about to open his mouth to taunt Thorian one last ti.
He froze; an imdiate sense of danger filled his entire being. It was so sudden and powerful that his heart stopped beating for a second. The sensation was extrely clear, sothing.... was about to cut through his back in a fraction of a second.
Whatever it was, it was about to horizontally slice him in half.
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