Chapter 2938: Aqualas’s Trick - I
Chapter 2938: Aqualas’s Trick - I
Date: Unspecified
Time: Unspecified
Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Sky Blossom City
"Veerott, wake up!!!"
Aqualas’s desperate scream echoed across the battlefield. For the first time since the fight began, genuine panic filled her voice.
After hearing Seraphine’s warnings, listening to the Southern Hope repeatedly demand surrender, and watching Veerott retreat entirely into his defensive shell, Aqualas could no longer maintain her confidence.
Something felt wrong. The Veerott she knew wasn’t like this. This wasn’t his fighting style. He wasn’t a cautious defender. He wasn’t someone who patiently endured punishment while waiting for an opportunity. Even when facing impossible odds, Veerott always chose to advance. Even if he was dying, if defeat was inevitable, he would go down swinging.
That was the Viltronian she had trained with for countless years. That was the friend she knew. And that was precisely why the current sight frightened her. A part of her was beginning to think that Seraphine might have been right all along. Maybe Veerott really was losing. Maybe the Southern Hope had already gained the upper hand.
Yet deep down, Aqualas refused to accept it. She didn’t want to watch her friend lose. She didn’t want to watch him become a servant to their enemy. Most of all, she didn’t want to accept that this entire situation existed because she had insisted on settling old scores. The guilt that had been quietly gnawing at her heart since the beginning of the battle suddenly surged.
As this dragged on, that guilt grew, multiplied, and crushed down on her chest. For perhaps the first time in a very long while, Aqualas felt truly helpless. And from the depths of her heart, she cried out once more.
"Veerott, you cannot lose!!!"
Meanwhile, Veerott who had long since stopped paying attention to the outside world, felt the desperation and hope in her voice. Even though pain was slowly beginning to dominate his will as his body ached, organs screamed, and thoughts felt sluggish. Self-doubt, frustration, hatred, and an unfamiliar fear had gradually seeped into his mind through the countless curses assaulting his will.
The world around him had become a blur of impacts and noise. Then something changed. Suddenly, it felt as though he had been plunged into the deepest part of an endless ocean.
The ocean’s immense cold and silence strangely felt comforting. Unlike the suffocating pressure of a real ocean, this presence didn’t seek to drown him. Instead, it wrapped around him, supporting and carrying him.
A familiar warmth hid beneath the crushing pressure. And within that ocean, he heard a familiar soft, gentle, but desperate voice whispering to him,
"Veerott, wake up."
"Veerott, you cannot lose."
These words echoed in his mind repeatedly until he recognized it was Aqualas. The friend who had spent centuries helping him break his limits. The friend who had stood beside him through countless battles. The friend who, despite all her flaws, had never once doubted him. For the first time since the battle began, the fog clouding his thoughts began to crack.
Within that familiar embrace, Veerott’s mind suddenly cleared. The pain, injuries, and curses were still there. Yet none of them felt unbearable anymore. The self-doubt vanished and the hesitation disappeared. Even the creeping fear that had been worming its way into his heart was swept away like a wave erasing footprints from a shore.
All that remained was certainty. He wanted to fight. He wanted to win, not to satisfy his pride, not to seek glory, but for his friends.
The moment that conviction solidified, the oddly shaped ball of muscle began to move. A pair of arms extended outward and then the legs followed. The compact defensive shell unfolded into a bizarre form. Moments later, Veerott began rotating at terrifying speeds.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
The floating fists surrounding him shattered one after another.
While spinning, he carefully kept his vital points protected behind layers of hardened muscle, allowing his body to function as both a weapon and a shield simultaneously. For a brief moment, it seemed as though he had finally broken free.
Unfortunately, the fists simply regenerated. Every fist he destroyed was immediately replaced by another. The endless barrage resumed without pause.
Veerott quickly realized the problem. This wasn’t a battle he could win through attrition. Not against an opponent capable of endlessly recreating the attacks.
His eyes narrowed. Then he made a decision. The spinning abruptly stopped. The muscles throughout his body compressed and strengthened as he ditched the defence form and stood up to face all the fists head on. A terrifying force exploded from body as he sprang up.
*BOOM!*
Before the shockwave could erupt outward, the two thousand-plus fists were obliterated simultaneously by him before they could properly regenerate, making use of his Viltronian speed and high end martial arts.
Rather than continue defending, Veerott abandoned caution he chose under the influence of curses and returned to what he did best, offense. Pure and overwhelming offense.
Veerott had already demonstrated a high level of mastery over martial arts as he assumed that tortoises-form under the influence of the curses. I couldn’t guess its mastery level as the martial art form was unknown to me.
However, when he used his Viltronian speed along with martial arts taught to elite members of the Southern Watch to destroy the fists of primordial ethereal spirits surrounding him, I realized he had achieved grandmaster level mastery in it, a step away from achieving sage level mastery.
Then Veerott disappeared. One moment he was destroying the two thousand plus fists and the next moment he was standing directly in front of me. The transition was so smooth that it felt as though reality had skipped a frame.
My eyes widened slightly. He was fast, very fast. Before I could fully react, Veerott struck. One fist drove into my abdomen. Another pierced straight through my shoulder.
The attacks landed with enough force to rupture space itself. And for the first time since the battle began, Veerott looked like the terrifying Viltronian warrior Aqualas had been boasting about all this time.
With my hybrid Viltronian physiology, layered defensive curses, and regenerative abilities, Veerott shouldn’t have been able to break through my defenses. Yet he did. Because I allowed him to.
Rather than resisting his attacks outright and letting myself be thrown around like a ragdoll, I welcomed the impact. The moment his fists pierced my body, I activated my cellular restructuring abilities. Flesh and muscle along curses surged around his arms like living restraints, locking them in place deep within my torso.
"Argh!" Veerott grunted as he tried to pull free.
The muscles restraining him bulged and twisted, fighting against his monstrous strength. Veins stood out across his arms as he exerted himself, and the ground beneath his feet cracked from the force he was applying. Finally, with a violent wrench, he managed to tear his arms free.
"Huh?"
The victory lasted less than a second. Veerott stared at his arms in stunned disbelief. His fists were gone. Most of his wrists had disappeared along with his hand. The flesh near the severed ends was blackened and distorted, as though it had been dissolved rather than cut.
For the first time since our battle began, genuine shock appeared on his face. His body instinctively retreated several steps. Not from pain but from fear.