Chaos Heir - Chapter 844: Spar

844 Spar

The Ef’i formed an orderly group before the building’s entrance, and Khan approached them, planning to greet their leader. He could sense a fifth-level warrior among them, so his legs headed for her. Yet, his eyes suddenly spotted familiar features.

“[Mezmac]?” Khan called, looking past the first row of aliens to focus on a female Ef’i in the back.

The alien stepped forward, crossing her companions to reach Khan. She stretched her hand, keeping her black claws at bay, and Khan didn’t hesitate to shake it.

“[You remember me],” Mezmac announced, using her language since Khan had done the same. “[I’m glad we could meet again, Prince Khan].”

Mezmac had been Khan’s last opponent in Onia’s tournament. The two hadn’t seen each other in years, inevitably changing. Mezmac had become a fourth-level warrior, albeit seemingly recently. Still, Khan’s transformation was far more evident.

The Ef’i were a heavily battle-oriented species. They worshipped strength and never refrained from testing themselves. Their mindset was simple and straightforward, leading to great results in that specific field.

Nevertheless, no one challenged Khan to a friendly spar. That would usually be the norm, especially in Khan’s experience. His fame would even push the Ef’i to test him out. Yet, no one mentioned the topic.

The matter involved the Ef’i’s heightened survival instincts. Their minds existed for battle, so they obviously developed a certain sharpness in those fields. They also had plenty of experience, leading to a clear conclusion. Khan couldn’t be beaten.

The conclusion wasn’t rational. It was rooted in a mere first impression, but no Ef’i questioned it. Khan’s savage appearance matched his imposing and dangerous aura. The aliens felt they were in the presence of an otherworldly beast capable of eating them alive on the spot.

Khan ignored that reaction and watched Mezmac retreat to make room for her leader. The fifth-level warrior approached Khan, shaking his hand before voicing basic pleasantries.

“Prince Khan,” The alien said in a perfect human accent. “I’m Tlexicpalli, the chosen Ambassador for this mission. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Khan responded. “Thank you for agreeing to my proposal.”

“We found it quite compelling,” Tlexicpalli admitted. “Do you mind attending to it now?”

Khan knew what the alien wanted. It perfectly aligned with her species’ creed, and refusing her request never crossed Khan’s mind. He had actually expected it, and the landing’s location reflected that.

“[Follow me],” Khan ordered, switching to the Ef’i’s language.

The group followed Khan through the barren ground, heading toward an unmistakable landmark. The Thilku Embassy was only a few kilometers away, so the Ef’i could use the walk to get used to Baoway’s environment.

The Thilku audience also felt surprised, but Khan remained impassible. Biologically speaking, the Ef’i were superior. Their smaller size didn’t speak for their physical strength since their tinier muscles were firmer and denser. Their skin was also tougher, and their living conditions further deepened that quality.

Moreover, the Ef’i had sharp claws on their hands and legs, and their tails were more dangerous than both. Their additional limb and agility provided a stark advantage in a one-on-one battle.

Mezmac didn’t stop her offensive after her punch landed. Her tail promptly rose, cracking in the air to send a sharp mana bullet toward the Thilku’s chest. The attack was unavoidable at that distance, but the Thilku showed his pride in that instance.

The Thilku bent to his left, letting the bullet hit his shoulder. The spell dug through his flesh, creating a gory hole, but the injury didn’t affect the alien’s following movements.

Mezmac felt an unstoppable force closing around her left wrist. The Thilku had grabbed the arm on his abs during the dodge, trapping the Ef’i in his unbreakable grasp.

The Ef’i tried to crack her tail again, but her whole world suddenly turned upside down. The Thilku lifted her from her arm, pulling her above his head before forcefully slamming her on the ground.

The impact on the barren ground created a deep hole that lifted a lot of dust. Still, red flames illuminated the scene, burning everything inside the cavity and the surface around it.

The dust quickly settled, revealing the Thilku standing before a vast charred spot. The ground cracked, and the same went for the hole’s insides. Yet, nobody could be found at its bottom.

The scene didn’t surprise the Thilku. He turned, bringing his bleeding hand to his grinning mouth. He had lost three of his six fingers, but the injury didn’t affect his battle drive at all. He only smiled as he looked at his opponent.

Mezmac had escaped the deadly spell but not unscathed. Her pale-brown skin had grown darker, featuring multiple fuming burns. Live flesh also littered her body, showcasing her poor condition.

Both warriors had suffered injuries during the last exchange, but neither lost their desire to fight. They actually accumulated mana, wearing battle stances to prepare for their next attacks.

The Thilku joined his palms before spreading his arms, giving birth to a series of flaming spheres that hovered before him. Those flames slowly flew toward his sides, surrounding him while waiting for additional orders.

Meanwhile, Mezmac stretched her arms and fingers, her claws growing as mana accumulated on their sharp tips. She also lifted her tail, pointing it at the Thilku. Her toes even dug the terrain, preparing her best sprint.

Silence reigned for a few seconds before both warriors shot forward. The flaming spheres turned into bullets, and Mezmac launched a piercing attack, planning to dig a hole through her opponent. The two seemed engaged in a suicidal charge, and their clash lifted enough dust to hide the outcome.

The dust slowly settled, showing holes, burns, and cracks. The fight between two fourth-level warriors had turned the ground into a mess, but no one could spot bodies there. The two fighters seemed to have disappeared, but the Ef’i and Thilku groups eventually lifted their heads, finding their representatives.

Khan hovered in the air with his hands full. His left palm held the Thilku by his neck, keeping him still. Meanwhile, his right had seized the Ef’i’s tail, leaving Mezmac hanging from it.

“No one dies unless I say so,” Khan said, his eyes lighting up to add weight to his order.