Even if my sister had died in a real duel, what about my brother?! He died just because he spoke to the girlfriend of a guy who was thought to be dead!
When did the lives of the Karna family members become so cheap.
The young man waited in silence.
His father did not support revenge because that guy named Malin was said to be favored by the God of Justice, and as for his brother, he was always in the wrong—at least, he should have waited until the news of his death was confirmed before taking action.
In that case, even if Malin had killed him and his sister, it would have been because his brother and sister were at fault first, and the punishment for him might have been to merely lift high and drop gently.
To take action first was not wrong, but it carried risks that followed like a shadow.
It was unwise, his mother had said so too.
But the young man did not want to hear all this; in this world, there wasn’t so much right or wrong, "Truth" lies only within the reach of a sword-wielding arm.
Today, one of them, he or Malin, must die.
This was a duel of honor.
"It’s Karna’s second son." Faye, standing at the window, furrowed her brows as she looked at the young man: "How has he returned."
"Wasn’t it said that he went to the Central Administrative Province?" Jessica’s brows were tightly knit: "This guy, it was said that last year he had already reached Sequence Five of the Martyr."
"What a nuisance, can Mr. Malin win?" Lillim asked.
"I believe my brother can win." Maya’s words surprised her sisters, "Have you seen it?" Faye asked.
"No." Maya wrinkled her nose: "I can’t see clearly, it’s strange."
As she spoke, Malin had already appeared in front of him in their eyes.
"You have the courage to come out, better than I expected," the young werewolf said to Malin, his face showing neither grief nor joy.
"I killed your brother, so I must stand out, but you must know that your brother’s actions were wrong, I killed him, and I had enough reason," Malin replied, holding the longsword he had obtained from the old mage, which was said to be a magical family heirloom.
"Yes, you were not wrong to kill him, and I’m not wrong to come to kill you, this is sacred revenge," the young werewolf replied as he drew his longsword: "Draw your sword, Malin, let us decide life and death between us."
"Hmm, I also think that since you’ve come to me, it means there’s a difference of opinion within the Karna family, some do not wish for you to come, while others are pleased to see it happen," Malin said as he drew his sword, flinging the jeweled scabbard behind him towards the old mage.
"Any last words?" the young werewolf asked softly.
"Now that you say it, I just remembered, I still do not know your name," Malin said.
"Kay, even though you’re about to die, I’ll still satisfy your curiosity," the young werewolf said. In the next second, he appeared in front of Malin, his sword thrusting.
Malin raised his sword, parried, and brushed off the thrust aimed at his face, their empty hands brushing past each other in the air, Malin’s fist landing on the werewolf’s waist, where his exquisite plate armor deformed, cracked, and ultimately was struck along with the blow to the abdomen.
And the werewolf’s punch landed on Malin’s forehead, without any effect.
The next moment, they both retreated; the Werewolf switched the hand holding the sword and lunged once more with both hands.
Malin also switched hands, then once again used his Longsword to parry the thrust, but the opponent’s strength was greater than before, forcing Malin to sidestep the lunge and take a kick to the waist from the young Werewolf.
The young Werewolf retracted his foot, feeling as though he had just kicked a giant meteorite due to the numbness in his leg. Although he had inflicted damage on his opponent, he was somewhat unclear who had taken the worse of the exchange.
Retreating seven steps, Malin felt a searing pain in his waist—it was the first time he had been wounded, causing him to spit out a mouthful of blood. Despite the great enhancement to his physique from his awakened bloodline, that kick had still brought him pain.
Looking at the young Werewolf before him, Malin switched hands again. This time, he faced the opponent’s cleaving strike with his sword in both hands.
Raising his sword to block this slash, Malin’s Longsword then stabbed towards the young Werewolf’s neck. As the latter was forced to retreat, Malin swiftly turned around, using the acquired momentum to swing his Longsword. The two Longswords clashed, emitting a grating sound.
This time, having the advantage in strength, Malin pushed the Werewolf’s Longsword aside while stepping forward. With his left hand on the hilt and right hand grasping the unsharpened middle part of the blade, he first struck the Werewolf’s wounded abdomen with the pommel, then blocked the incoming Longsword with the front end of his own. The young Werewolf, weakened by injury and unable to put much force into his strike, was easily deflected. Therefore, Malin took a step back, holding his sword with both hands, and slashed horizontally again.
The Werewolf had no choice but to retreat a step.
So, Malin withdrew his Longsword and surged forward in pursuit, thrusting out his sword.
The Werewolf was forced to raise his Longsword in defense, warding off the thrust of Malin’s sword aimed at his torso.
A shower of sparks flew as their sword edges scraped against each other, Malin continued to close in while flipping his blade, using the back edge as a shield to push the Werewolf away.
As the Longsword was raised by the push, Malin then stepped left, letting his Longsword come down, chopping onto the defending spine of the opponent’s raised Longsword. It pressed down a short distance, carving a wound across the Werewolf’s face.
Before the Werewolf could react, Malin closed in again, holding the sword in his left hand and gripping the back edge with his right, pushing and hitting the Werewolf’s chest.
The Werewolf’s Longsword was pushed to his chest by Malin, and he was driven back.
Malin didn’t pursue, for he saw that the Werewolf’s appearance was beginning to change.
"I remember we agreed to a duel with real swords, Kay," Malin took a step back, "You are undermining the fairness of the duel!"
"I know! But I want to kill you more!" the young Werewolf roared, "I must kill you! Just like you killed my brother! The process doesn’t matter!"
Malin glanced at the old Mage, who was holding his recording Arcane Crystal, "Got it all on camera."
Then, Malin turned to face the charging Werewolf, deflecting his swinging slash with the back edge of his sword. Taking advantage of the diversion, Malin pulled out the Revolver from his waist and pulled the trigger towards the approaching Werewolf.
The first bullet was blocked by his Longsword, leaving a mark on the blade from the .50 caliber bullet.
Then came the second bullet, striking the Longsword again, the bullet finally lodged in the back edge.
Followed by the third bullet—while the Longsword wailed, the cruel smile on the Werewolf’s face grew even more pronounced.
The final bullet left the chamber, once again blocked by the Longsword, but the armor-piercing bullet effortlessly drilled a hole in the blade. It then bored into the Werewolf’s forehead before exiting the other side, carrying with it fragments of bone and tissue.
Malin landed, sheathing the gun, then turned around to return the Longsword to the old Mage.
He approached the Werewolf, pushing his dying body to the ground.
Then he waved to the officers that had been nearby since the beginning.
"You can come clean up now!"