Chapter 92 - A Pyschopathic Ex

"Woww, so sturdy and strong~."

"Get the fuck off, shorty!"

"Tch. Flattery's out the window, I guess," I mutter as I duck under a wild swing of his arm before leaping off him to land several feet away. "Do we really have to fight? I mean, come on, trying to fight me 'cause I called you ma'am? People make mistakes! How am I supposed to know what was (originally) under those plates (and is no longer there)??"

"I can hear what you're whispering, asshole!" He yells back irately. "I'll kill you!"

"I didn't know armor had ears. Huh," I note casually, as if I wasn't dodging blow after blow.

"Rrrahhh!"

[Last Regards has activated the Skill Gorey Punch.]

As he pulls back his fist, trails of a dark red liquid collecting by his knuckles, just like a certain well-known brawler I fought in a tournament with water.

"These names are pretty straightforward, huh?" I ask with a grin. Last Regards doesn't answer, and the tutorial jumps in, to my dismay.

<Was the user expecting something else?>

<'The tutorial questions the user's hidden intellect stat.'>

"God, you remind me of someone from my past life sometimes," I groan, while the armor uses my momentary distraction to its advantage. He closes the gap in a couple of seconds, throwing his glowing blood red fist forward with all abandon. "Oops!" I cry as I chuck the silver shortsword at his face, which uselessly clinks off the heavy faceplate. However, it frees up my left hand, and I use it to vault over his hulking frame and behind him, grabbing the tip of the falling sword as I jump. Snakelike trails burst forward from his fist, whipping around along with his arm as he tries to keep up with my movements, but I'm one step ahead now.

As soon as I touch the ground, I plant my right hand, spinning my body so my feet are facing the brute.

[Cooldown complete!]

"Ah, fu—"

[Activating Klum's Reincarnation…]

[DEX increased 200%.]

"Thank the Gods," I mutter and launch myself downwards, sliding in between two massive, armored legs to end up where I originally had been. At the same time, I release the tip of the left sword, grab the right back off the ground, and snatch the handle of the left as I fly through the gap. Bending my knees, I skid back in a low squat to stop myself, watching his arm and blood trails crash heavily into the ground where I had just been. With my body moving systematically, near-perfectly as I needed it, I feel the blades in my hands, how they are just a deadly extension to my own body, and remember the Swordmaster's style.

Flowing, quick, efficient.

Tying in what I knew with my own style, I begin slashing at the same spot, activating and reactivating Critical Sight+ to perfectly place a Mark in the same spot, over and over, until the eternity of three seconds finally comes to a close.

[Skill Critical Sight+…

[Critical Mark has been…

[Skill Critical Sight+…

[Critical Mark has been..

With one heavy twin slash, I cut once more at its back and leap away, stumbling about as my body attempt to readjust to my fluctuating coordination.

Ding!

[???: Progression Increased]

[Total Progression: 100%]

[Skill Meditative State Style has been learned.]

***

"What on Puria is this?" Vao wonders as he peers at the notification popping up in his Statbook. He was still in awe of the clean, beautiful strokes demonstrated by Klum, truly embodying his style to its max efficiency.

(The Sword Saint has learned your Sword Style.)

(Your Style will receive an automatic upgrade and a New Skill will be created for you.)

(You have helped create the Skill Meditative State Style.)

"… He turned my entire style into one Skill?" he asks in bewilderment. 'If that is the case, then he may become one intense beast… no, the equivalent of a true monster. His movements may be akin to a toddler's, but his potential is seeming more and more limitless the more I see. If he met the other Swordmasters and learned their styles as well…'

Shuddering at the thought, Vao turns back to continue spectating, ready to jump in if his 'disciple' ever needs it.

***

"Dammit…"

[Last Regards Health: 67/101]

"All that, and I still barely made a dent and a few cracks in his back?" I mutter, as the monstrosity turns to face me once more. "So… Ready to talk? Maybe?"

A loud huff comes from the helmet, gray smoke pouring from under the mouthpiece. 'Maybe I pissed him off a bit too much…'

Clang. Clang. Clang!

The giant suit of armor begins charging at me once more, and I ready myself for the intense onslaught preparing to be unleashed upon me.

"yyyyyeeeaaAAAAHHHHH!!!"

A streaking red figure falls from the sky, slamming into my enemy with the blast equivalent to in between a cannonball or mortar shell. I use both swords to shield myself from the wind and debris, peeking to see a figure standing on the now half-crushed right shoulder of the Hollow Armor. A sharp grin sits widely on his face: where mine was narrow, his was almost the open mouthed grin of a kid. His almost pitch black eyeballs almost blend with his lizard-slitted yellow pupils as they lock onto me.

Or rather, the sword in my right hand.

He leaps off the Armor, who lays facedown in the dirt, and strolls towards me in an almost cartoonish manner, his stark, scruffy red hair bouncing and revealing a hidden short and curled similarly red horn with black patterns curling on one side of it on the left side of his head. Red and black scales fade into normal skin on that side of his forehead, but the unnatural look of it is mostly hidden by his messy hair. His reddish-orange pants beat out Eniyala's in terms of bagginess, looking to be made almost like the crotch drop pants I'd occasionally see back on Earth. Tribal-like patterns are etched in black from the cuffs on his ankles up to nearly his knees. Conversely, he has a snug black tank-top on, revealing an average body tone to him. His stomach even pushes lightly against the fabric, suggesting he ate well.

He pauses, pointing a pointed black fingernail at the golden sword. I notice that while we look the same height at first glance, he's actually an inch or three taller than me. "I want that."

I look at him, then the sword, then him again. "… No. Who the hell are you?"

The man… child? The dude claps his hands together suddenly in excitement. "Hey, I remember you! You're Liwuukay from the tournament!"

I sigh in exasperation. "Uh, no, my name's actually—"

"Anyway, Liwuukay, gimme that shiny thing!"

"Like I said. N o." I enunciate the last word, lifting said 'shiny thing' to rest on my shoulder.

He shrugs. "We can fight for it then," he says, drawing a sword from his waist. It's a gladius, a golden hilt in the shape of wings expanding into the center of the blade, which is a dull gray. He charges towards me, albeit it's as slow as a turtle in my eyes. He raises his sword over his head, in an extremely rudimentary style, and telegraphing his next move several seconds before executing it. Thus, it's an easy maneuver to get into position to deflect it.

SLAM!

"What the fuck?!"

I saw his blade screeching against my borrowed ones, but even with only a fraction of the force, it feels like a boulder was slammed onto my arms. As it glances off and his blow extends to the ground, the packed dirt explodes into a small crater from the pure force of the blow. My arms shake heavily, nearing muscle failure, and with my original counter gone, I kick my foot out at the softest part of the guy — his stomach.

"Oof," he says, not sounding very hurt

My foot meets a brick wall, and I wince in pain. "What the fuck?! Are you made of stone or something?" I mutter, leaping off my good foot to gain distance for a second. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

As I'm about to activate my Skill…

<The user should use Analyze+ to find out.>

"The fuck did you think I was doing?!" I reply angrily, activating Analyze+.

"Wow. You must not be right in the head, huh?" The new arrival notes, and I roll my eyes as the window pops up. "You have no room to speak, dumbass."

[Name: Ro]

[Age: 22]

[Lv: 46]

[Class: None]

[Health: 95/96]

[Mana: 101/101]

[Stamina: 66/96]

STR: 102 MAG: 12

AGI: 8 DEX: 9

VIT: 30 INT: 20

ACC: 8

DEF: 70 {+80}

POW: 16

[Skills: Dragon's Constitution (Ultra Rare), Partial Dragon Transformation (Ultra Rare), Treasure Hunter (Rare), Full-Power Punch (Rare), Mana Resistance (Rare), Bash+ (Uncommon), Bound+ (Uncommon)]

[Spells: Dragon's Breath (Curse), Curse Punch <Locked >, Dark Gauntlets <Locked >]

"Are you a monster or something?" I cry out in shock. In response, Ro sticks out his tongue, the end slightly forked out. "No, you."

"Huh. That exists here?"

Ro blows a raspberry at me, and I dash forward in his second of distraction. He lifts the sword defensively, but I can easily see it coming.

[Skill Critical Sight+ was activated.]

I slash at his shoulder, and a mix of red and black scales form on it protectively. An almost evil grin creeps across my face. "Lightning Strikes," I say quietly, whipping the blade back and then redirecting it up.

[Critical Mark has been hit. Dmg was adjusted to 500%.]

WHAP!

I smack the flat of my blade onto the front of the dude's nose. As the Critical Hit lands, his head snaps back cruelly from the force. It flops back down, and a small trail of blood trickles slowly from one side of his nose. He wipes his nose and it's gone, instead upon his finger. "Huh. Been a while since I seen this."

"You done yet?" I ask suspiciously, lifting my nose with a hint of pride.

Scrunching up his face, he sheathes his sword reluctantly. "Fine. Can I still have shiny thing?"

"No."

"Aww."

As the childish boy sulks, behind him rises a giant suit of armor. "Uhhh… Ro? Wanna fight that thing for me?"

Ro turns his head, inspecting the ragged armor, before facing me again and crossing his arms. "Hmph. Nope. Anyway, how do you know my na—"

A metal fist clocks him on the side of the head, sending him flying. He bounces like a ragdoll for dozens of feet before stopping, pulling himself up to a sitting position. "Hey, that REALLY… kind of hurt." He looks like he wants to retaliate, but catching sight of me he harrumphs again and sits, facing the other direction.

"Great. I'm all alone against a beast that took 20 Critical Hits to put a scratch on. Loving this final task SO much."

The Armor roars. "I'm going to crush you into little pieces!"

* * *

<Tutorial here! Remember kids, do NOT try falling from the sky at home! It's very dangerous, and tutorial promises to berate World's Most Shameless Author—< p>

Hey! That's not my World Authorization!

<It totally is. And if it's not, the World Lines are playing favorites. I mean, in name. AUTHORization.>

Alright, shut up before you spoil something.

<Oho~ Well you see, Klum actually—< p>

Alright, you're getting removed from the story.

<Wait— Noo! You can't! The World's Best Readers will miss me too much!>

You're exaggerating. That's not even their World Authorization.

<Check it.>

I'm telling you… Wait, what??

<Told you.>

That's it. I'm muting you for two chapters.

<Nooooooooooooo—< p>

[The World's Most Annoying Tutorial has been muted.]

[The World's Most Annoying Tutorial requests a rename.]

[The World's Most Annoying Tutorial requests a rename.]

[The World's Most Annoying Tutorial requests a—

[The World's Annoyingest Tutorial has been renamed.]

:P She deserved it.