Chapter 493 The Strongest Pt. 6
?Moriarty and Zadkiel clashed with their weapons drawn, sparks flying with each strike.
'What the hell is wrong with him?'
Zadkiel wondered as he dodged another blow from Moriarty's spear.
He thought his rival of times bygone was acting stranger than usual.
Zadkiel expected him to be able to easily manipulate Moriarty's emotions, like he had done multiple times before. It wasn't working this time.
After another clash of the weapons, Moriarty smiled sinisterly and pushed Zadkiel backward with surprising strength.
Zadkiel put more strength into his feet and stopped himself from sliding any further. As he glanced back, he noticed that the pit of the boiling lava wasn't too far away.
'Trying to push me to the lava? Huh, nice try.'
As Moriarty was about to launch another stabbing attack, Zadkiel suddenly dashed forward, passed the spear, and then drove one of his Sai's deep into Moriarty's waist.
Moriarty didn't flinch, not even showing any signs of startlement.
Instead, he elbowed Zadkiel in the face and pulled out the Sai from his waist before tossing it into the pit of lava.
"Hmph." Zadkiel pinched his nose and squeezed the blood from his nostrils.
Moriarty ignored the bleeding wound and looked over to the other fight that was happening. It was clear that Julian was winning as Ambrose, now one-handed, was struggling to defend.
However, Moriarty didn't show any concern for his teammate. Instead, he turned back to Zadkiel and grinned with clear malicious intent.
"Your teammate is losing." Zadkiel said it with a smile. "After Julian has finished him off, what do you think will happen to you?"
"If you're a man, you would still fight me—alone." Moriarty said it coldly and scoffed. "Or, are you perhaps afraid that I would defeat you?"
"Hahahaha." Zadkiel laughed in amusement. "You're trying to use my tricks against me? Buddy, I invented this kind of fighting style. Why would I risk losing in front of the whole world?"
"That's what you are—isn't that right?" Moriarty squeezed his spear tight. "You always chose your battles carefully. That's how you haven't lost yet, ain't that right?"
"Haha, that's right." Zadkiel smiled in satisfaction.
During the whole time Zadkiel had been playing Martial Online, he had never died. Not a single time.
It was because of his battle style—choose battles carefully.
It didn't matter to him if his friends were in trouble or about to die. If it looked like it wouldn't be possible to save them, he wouldn't even try.
While his community, viewers, and everyone who knew him in the real world loved him to the bone,
Those who knew the real him hated him to the core. They knew the darkness that lurked beneath his charismatic facade.
Moriarty crouched till his knees almost touched the black rock, then he jumped towards the ceiling, and as he reached the room's tallest point, he pointed the spear down towards the ground.
"Fine, that's it!" Moriarty's mother jumped out of the sofa and looked up to the second floor. "I am going to remove the plug from his headset!"
"Don't."
At that moment, Moriarty's father snapped and crossed his arms angrily.
"You would fry his brain if you did so."
"Tch..." Moriarty's mother sat back down with her arms crossed. "Anyway, how the hell did Moriarty injure him? How is he cheating this time around?"
...
Zadkiel touched his bleeding chest and stood up, a pool of blood appearing around him.
In this room, one couldn't lose health, and therefore dying was impossible unless one fell to the pit of lava. If one could lose health, Zadkiel would be losing lots of health with each passing moment.
It was one of the saving graces of the current challenge.
"How did you do this?" Zadkiel asked with a frown.
"Simple." Moriarty smiled and raised his finger.
"First, I unleashed my attack. You probably thought it would be a brute-force attack. Therefore, you tried to counter with equal strength.
"However, I then controlled my attack to deflect your attack instead. That deflection caused your wound."
"That doesn't make any sense." Zadkiel frowned. "The amount of control you need to control that dragon is too much. It was clearly a skill created for brute force and not for some controlled, precision attack."
"That's true." Moriarty nodded. "It is attack that I created to create as much as destruction as possible. However, in my hands, I can control even something like that."
"Not bad, I suppose."
Zadkiel's expression turned cold, and the weapon in his hand started glowing with Inner Power.
The playtime was over.
On the other side of the room.
Julian pushed forward with his attacks and clashed sword strikes with Ambrose. They moved around one of the lava pits, dancing dangerously close to the edge.
Clang, clang, clang!
Julian's sword and one of the crimson shortswords clashed loudly, illuminated by the fiery glow of the lava below.
Ambrose had a frown on his brows as he tried to anticipate Julian's next move. However, his anticipations were wrong—
every single time.
'Since we can't die without falling to the pit of lava, Julian's goal since the start of the fight has been to get rid of one of my arms.'
He looked at his bleeding left shoulder, which missed an arm.
'What can I do to even the odds? If this continues, I'll lose.'