Re: Legendary Berserker’s Advent - Chapter 232

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Bracca’s previously savage expression darkened after learning of his current circumstances.

They betrayed his expectations, which included his battle against Maccaveli and his upcoming opponent.

“Eh?! What the hell is this?! Where is Ronan? I came all this way to have a fair fight with him, and the only one left on the stage is a pittance like you?” Bracca scowled, becoming indignant that Kieran wasn’t his final opponent.

As Bracca entertained the thought that Kieran was his final opponent, his expression darkened further. Although he vowed to teach Kieran a lesson, he joined this competition to battle against Ronan, who everyone lauded as the strongest of this generation.

Bracca couldn’t accept that most of the council’s attention shifted to a person that barely showed their presence within the walls of the War Deity Council.

The allure of the special prize meant nothing to Bracca. Due to the status of his opulent backer, all Bracca sought was to assert dominance at any given opportunity.

Kieran noticed Bracca’s darkened and almost sinister expression as his Retaliatory Sense tingled unlike no other. The sense of peril hadn’t been this strong throughout the entire competition, including when he was targeted at the event’s start.

Kieran could feel it—Bracca wanted to draw blood and teach a lesson.

However, Kieran wrapped his large hand around Crimson Ashrune’s hilt and pulled the large sword from the ground with a steady stance.

Ignoring his exhaustion, Kieran’s emotionless gaze fell upon the fuming Bracca, who ground his teeth hard enough to cause resounding noise throughout the broken platform.

“The final fight of the competition is upon us,” General Zieg announced. At the same time, he looked toward Ronan with a faint nod.

Ronan clapped his hands and spread them apart, creating a giant prism of gravitational energy designed to manage the fallout of Kieran and Bracca’s clash.

The final round’s swift nature led to all downed opponents remaining nearby. Most of the staff was busy taking care of the earliest elimination. Their injuries proved more severe since they were weaker in comparison.

The top contenders’ physiques were resilient and more robust, capable of distributing and enduring massive amounts of damage. So immediate medical attention was unneeded.

Besides, they wanted to see the outcome of this competition with their own eyes after waking up from their brief bout of unconsciousness.

Bracca gripped his twin axes until they emitted a strange, frightening noise. As he approached Kieran, he growled like a feral beast, berserk energy spilling off his body in droves.

「Lv.51 Bracca, The Nightmarish Savage (Titled Epic NPC)

Class: Berserker

Health: 37,950,800/50,000,000 (75%)

Affiliation: «War Deity Council» 」

Contrary to the standard class in Bracca’s information, he wasn’t a normal Berserker.

There were variations to the class based on the user’s unique traits. Bracca’s Berserker class was one of the most frightening, which would soon run rampant within the arena.

However, the fact Bracca was considered a Berserker awakened an urge within Kieran—the desire to assert dominance and show Bracca how insignificant he was.

Kieran didn’t care if Bracca was another Advanced Being; Kieran could only describe Bracca’s current condition as equally terrible.

Additionally, he was different from Ronan. He had only just stepped into the realm of Advanced Beings, whereas Ronan was already Lv.55 with Health that couldn’t be defined.

On the contrary, Bracca’s 50 million Health didn’t seem like such an insurmountable task.

“Hahaha,” Bracca released a peal of hysterical laughter after seeing Kieran’s current condition. “Little vermin, what do you think you can accomplish? I will squash you, and there is nothing you can do about it. I will rid your vile incompetence from the world.”

From the glint in Bracca’s eyes, Kieran could see that his reason was fading, only to be replaced by madness and bloodlust. Although he wasn’t a True Berserker, incapable of manipulating his vitality, Bracca possessed the pinnacle of a Berserker’s traits.

Unfortunately, Kieran had no intentions of losing against this man, not after Bracca released such a dense bloodlust toward him.

Kieran had decided that Bracca must be taught a lesson. His extreme skills like Deranged Spirit, Abhorrent Paroxysm, and Dread Culling were inaccessible, but that was fine. Against Bracca, they weren’t required.

…

In the stands above, Scar revealed an ecstatic grin. “Boys, you’re about to witness the True Berserker’s authentic way of fighting.”

“How can you tell?” Ezrath questioned, a look of skepticism plastered across his face. He couldn’t sense the change that Scar was sensitive to.

“One, we seek to assert dominance by nature. Two, my boy has trained in that particular way of fighting nonstop for more than two days. He hasn’t revealed it thus far, but he will undoubtedly reveal it now. When the power is infantile, this way of fighting can only occur when the body is bruised and battered,” Scar answered, his expression filling with pride and glory.

Kieran’s christening of the most brutal power was upon him.

Caecus and Ezrath silently turned their gaze to the stage below, attentively listening to Scar’s description of what was to come. After learning of it, unbridled excitement bubbled up inside of them.

…

General Zieg didn’t utter the start of this match; Bracca simply raced toward Kieran like a crazed fiend in a fit of blind rage.

Contrary to Bracca’s actions, Kieran remained still and recalled the words Scar said to them at the beginning of their training. Only a fool would rush into battle against an opponent without gauging the disparity in their raw strength and processing ways to narrow this disparity.

After watching Bracca’s frantic rush, Kieran noticed his actions were quite chaotic, but there was a recurring pattern in how he moved. This only happened for one reason.

‘He’s hiding an injury that can’t be resolved in a short amount of time. But where is it?’ Kieran wondered. His analyzation burrowed deeper as he dissected Bracca’s every action, especially the ones leading up to his recurring movement pattern.

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“That’s it,” Kieran muttered with a flash of realization passing through his gaze.

Afterward, Kieran stepped back and turned his body, flowing underneath Bracca’s first swing, and then ducked, avoiding Bracca’s second swing. Due to his fluid movements, Bracca’s attacks hit nothing but air.

Kieran, on the other hand, swung his body and used Crimson Ashrune’s hilt to hit the connective joint on Bracca’s jaw. The damage was negligible, but Kieran wasn’t looking to end everything within one strike.

Kieran wanted to torment Bracca and make him understand that despite his higher level, he would never amount to even a fraction of Kieran’s ability.

Power could make someone indisputable, but control and authority can make one infallible; there was a significant divide between those two concepts.

In Kieran’s eyes, Bracca’s one advantage was might. His reasoning was too frail, which as a Berserker wasn’t dire, but against a Berserker that traveled a path of perfection, it was a grave flaw.

Bracca lifted his foot to kick Kieran, but he jumped and used Bracca’s foot as a spring to help him gain height. After taking to the skies, Kieran once again created a faint blood platform to perform an abrupt aerial dive.

Whoosh!

Kieran arrived at the ground in an instant, becoming a flash of crimson light. After he passed by Bracca, a thin cut that seeped a trickle of blood surfaced on Bracca’s cheek.

Kieran stood behind Bracca with an imposing presence and fearless expression before speaking. “From here on out, you will not lay a hand on me. I will show you what this vermin is capable of. Your inability will drive you to madness, and no one will come to save you from the despair of defeat.”

People like Bracca couldn’t fathom or process defeat, and Kieran was well aware of that fact.

An utter defeat would likely shatter their resolve or turn them into a hateful existence, who embittered by their circumstances, began to run amok.

The backlash of his actions was of no consequence to Kieran because he simply couldn’t bring himself to care. His mind was set the moment Bracca directed pure bloodthirst toward him.

A challenge of ruthlessness and maliciousness? Kieran wouldn’t lose.

Fury bubbled up with Bracca as he roared to the sky while swinging his arm in an arc, intending to sever Kieran’s head from his body.

“Mana Manifestation: Earthstattering Abomination!”

A frightening existence, seeming to me some type of abominable colossus, released a deafening roar after it appeared.

It possessed a set of unfocused eyes, an oversized mouth filled with numerous large teeth, where the outside was stitched together, and two sets of arms, one large and one small and grotesque.

The sensation it gave off was one of fury, destruction, deep malice, and an unidentified amalgam of emotions.

Both Bracca and the manifested abomination emitted a crazed roar, projecting large amounts of revolting fluids.

Many who laid eyes upon Bracca’s manifestation felt it was off-putting. How did he come to possess that dastardly manifestation? It seemed like something no human would willingly draw power from.

However, Bracca wasn’t like most humans. He would accept a path regardless of the consequences if it could give him power.

But unlike several of the participants who returned to watch the final fight, Kieran remained calm, unperturbed by this unnerving sight.