Chapter 256
Duke Beowulf showed no mercy.
With an expressionless face, he trampled over Natae, relentlessly pursuing him whenever the slightest hint of escape appeared.
Thud! Crack!
Beowulf’s merciless kicks struck Natae’s entire body. Each blow caused Natae to contort like a shrimp, yet Beowulf didn’t relent. He continued to strike Natae’s waist and head.
And then it happened.
Aaaah!
A frigid aura enveloped Beowulf, taking on a distinct form.
Yan’s eyes widened as he recognized it.
“Is that…?”
It resembled the ice flowers Hans had once demonstrated—the Ice Blossom technique. Had Natae mastered it?
But when Yan glanced at Beowulf’s face, doubt crept in. Natae’s gaze was fixed on Hans.
Hans, too, stared in astonishment, mirroring Vila’s earlier reaction.
Yan realized something.
“This madness…”
Could Natae absorb and replicate techniques? And the unfolding scene confirmed his suspicion.
The ice flowers surrounding Beowulf began to flutter like petals. They sliced through his skin, leaving crimson trails.
Shhhrrr!
Dozens of wounds appeared on Beowulf’s arms and legs.
“How dare you mimic Beowulf’s technique.”
Beowulf extended his fist toward Natae, who merely sighed.
“Haah.”
Natae’s breath turned frosty as his hand transformed into an icy blade.
“Watch out, Duke!”
Thunk!
Beowulf drew a thin sword he’d never used before, clashing with Natae’s blade.
Boom!
A tremendous shockwave swept the area. The collision of cold energies enveloped everything. Yan’s eyes caught Ella collapsing in the distance.
He had no particular fondness for her, but perhaps she’d be useful later.
Beowulf and Natae continued their battle. Initially, Beowulf dominated, but now they were evenly matched.
“Beowulf reads Natae’s moves.”
Beowulf’s superior strength and skill remained, but they only mattered if his attacks landed.
Natae seemed to anticipate Beowulf’s every move. His counterattacks consistently struck Beowulf’s skin.
Beowulf’s stamina was abundant for now, but if the fight continued like this…
“Beowulf will falter.”
Reading moves in a split second—Beowulf was chillingly adept.
“But wait…”
Something was off. How could he master techniques instantly, predict attacks, and engage in impossible-speed combat?
“Even a genius or monster shouldn’t defy logic like this.”
Why hadn’t Natae been showcased earlier, despite being stronger than Werner?
Yan pondered. “Was there a reason to hide him?”
“Why? No one saw his face during the assassination attempt on Beowulf’s wife.”
“Then there’s only one answer.”
“Despite this insane ability, he has a fatal weakness preventing him from taking center stage.”
Yan’s memories replayed, revealing peculiar scenes: Helena’s radiant burst of light and Natae’s scream of agony before his appearance.
Lastly, the variety of techniques he displayed.
And then it clicked.
His own domain, the Sequence of Creation, and Natae’s inexplicable abilities were eerily similar.
“I can only use my domain after absorbing information. But why can he wield it instantly?”
A hypothesis formed in Yan’s mind.
And finally…
“This madness.”
He chuckled. His hypothesis was absurd, but it made sense.
* * *
Duke Beowulf felt a growing unease as Natae became increasingly challenging to face.
“Something’s off.”
Had Natae suddenly grown stronger or revealed hidden abilities, Beowulf might not have sensed anything unusual. But Natae remained in the same state as when Beowulf had initially overwhelmed him.
Although Natae had showcased a few new techniques, most were familiar to Beowulf. The significant change lay in Natae’s ability to predict moves.
Was he foreseeing attacks or timing his defenses perfectly? And those unexpected counterattacks—what was going on?
And then it happened.
Malicious!
“Kihiihi, finally got a blade to that wretched face.”
Natae’s sword grazed Beowulf’s cheek, drawing blood. Beowulf’s body remained resilient, but he was far from unscathed. His cloak and armor bore crimson stains from several blocked or deflected strikes.
In the distance, Yan’s voice echoed:
“I’ve found it—the weakness.”
Beowulf’s expression darkened. Had he forgotten his warning not to interfere?
Yan’s voice returned:
“Lorena is badly injured. Despite our pride, now isn’t the time for emotions. Will you abandon her like this?”
Beowulf’s grip tightened on the sword. His paternal love for Lorena outweighed any desire to flee while she suffered.
He nodded subtly, signaling his willingness to intervene.
“Hold Natae back momentarily. And deploy your ‘domain’ without fail.”
Thunk!
Beowulf stomped the ground, and a chilling cold spread in all directions.
Beowulf’s domain—the Eternal Frost—unfolded around him. Intense cold formed solid ice throughout the area, even freezing the nearby Source of Warriors.
Within this domain, Beowulf launched a powerful strike at Natae.
His intent was clear: prevent Natae from focusing elsewhere.
Yan clenched Ascalon with both hands, channeling mana.
The Sword of Founding, Improved Style, Domain Deployment, and Sequence of Creation.
Zzzz!
Yan’s domain emerged, matching Beowulf’s Eternal Frost.
Unexpectedly, a powerful energy flowed from an unexpected direction, diverting Natae’s attention.
Yan’s lips curved into a smile.
“Are you laughing?”
“I think I’ve figured it out.”
His words seemed trivial, but they held weight.
Natae evaded Beowulf’s attack with a wild leap.
Ignoring Beowulf’s sword swinging from behind, Natae’s focus remained on Yan.
“Tell me about this space.”
Quazijijijik!
Ascalon emitted bluish light and sliced horizontally.
Beowulf frowned. What was Yan doing?
Natae, still airborne, suddenly halted.
Thud!
“Uwaaaah! Craaash! I’ll kill you! I swear!”
Natae writhed on the ground, pain etched across his face. His eyes bulged, bloodshot, and his skin turned pallid.
What madness was this?
Beowulf glanced at Yan, who calmly stated:
“We’ve been mistaken.”
“Mistaken?”
“Natae’s true form isn’t here.”
“…?”
Beowulf looked at the spot where the sword had swung but found nothing.
If Natae had a physical presence there, Beowulf would have sensed it.
Yan smirked.
“It’s not there.”
“What are you talking about?”
Beowulf’s question prompted Yan to thrust Ascalon into the ground.
“Kwaaah! Stop! Enough!”
Natae’s desperate cries echoed.
Beowulf’s expression hardened. Now Beowulf understood what was happening.
“Could it be…?”
“Yes, that ‘could it be’ is correct.”
Yan surveyed the empty space.
Nothing visible, yet something existed there.
It made sense.
“Natae’s true form is this surrounding domain—it’s the domain itself.”
Natae’s essence lay within the area he enveloped.