Villain Retirement - Chapter 936 936: Esme vs. Grea

“Well then, this is unexpected. We have not even been properly introduced.”

“My name is Esme’Varoif, former Princess of the Varoif Kingdom of Theran… My universe is dead.”

It is as Miss Pepondosovich surmised, there were hundreds and hundreds of them on the 91st floor, and yet Esme and Grea just had to face off against each other just moments after meeting.

“Grea, just Grea. My universe has long been gone, probably,” any eloquence or grace in Grea’s tone disappeared as she cracked her knuckles and started stretching her neck, “To think that I would actually have to face you this early — Pepondosovich’s doing, without a doubt. When one is granted stupid luck, those that are near her are stripped of it, such is the nature of her powers.”

The championship and finals of the Grandarena City are as lengthy as it is because one needed to be completely undefeated until the very top of the tower. If you were to reach the 100th floor without any match-up, you would need to wait until another undefeated combatant reaches the same floor — that is when a champion will be decided.

And with almost all the gods equal in strength in the uppermost floors, it is possible that a champion would not be born even after years and years. There are also instances, however, where a champion is named not even a month after — that was the case with Miss Pepondosovich.

“Please teach me a lot of things, Miss Grea,” Esme, unlike with her previous matches, quickly put up her guard and formed a stance as she looked at Grea from head to toe, watching even the slightest microscopic movements she made.

“I don’t really think a physical behemoth like you can learn something from me, Princess Esme,” Grea just suddenly burst out in laughter as she also looked at Esme from head to toe, “But as your elder, I do feel somewhat obligated, so…

…Lesson No. 1.”

Esme squinted her eyes as Grea suddenly disappeared, and without even a second later, Esme swung her fist to the side; smashing Grea’s fist that was heading straight toward her head — something was weird, however… the fist was missing the rest of its body.

“!!!” Esme then lowered her body, sweeping the hard ground of the arena as she waved her feet; meeting Grea’s leg that was also swinging toward her ankle… but once again, only the foot was thrown away; the rest of Grea’s body, completely nowhere to be seen.

“Never engage an opponent if you do not know their capabilities and abilities.”

Esme quickly turned to look to where Grea’s voice was coming from, only for the back of her head to be hit by Grea’s other fist. And even though the impact was enough to cause the air around them to implode and explode, it did not seem to do that much of a damage to Esme, however, as she just slightly stumbled forward.

But before she could do anything else, Esme suddenly found herself once again hit by a fist that she couldn’t see coming; all she heard was the boom that came after. No, at this point, it was more like a marching drum as the fists seemed to now be coming from random directions—no, from all directions.

Esme covered her head; her eyes, now just focusing on a single fist. And as soon as the hand shot toward her, she quickly caught it; gripping it hard as she started examining it. Unfortunately, before she could even look at it for a couple of seconds, the hand suddenly crumbled. But fortunately, that was all Esme needed to know what exactly was going on…

…and Grea seemed to also realize that as she finally revealed herself in front of Esme.

“That… is interesting, Miss Grea,” Esme lowered her arms as she watched as Grea… dismembered herself; completely ripping off her hand. She then just casually let go of the dismembered hand, and before it could drop to the ground, her arm already regenerated another hand.

But that wasn’t what Esme was staring at — wounds healing almost instantly was not that common in the Domain of the Gods, after all; almost more than half of them were capable of it. What she was focusing on… was the dismembered hand which was now crawling on the ground. And then, without even any warning, it just suddenly shot toward Esme at the speed of light, literally.

Esme swatted the hand away, completely turning it into dust.

“Your body, it’s completely made of stone, Miss Grea?” Esme asked as she watched as Grea casually approached her, “…And you can control your dismembered limbs?”

“It is weird, no?” Grea chuckled before she started shaking and waving her arms; hitting them against each other. And as she did so, her hands were ripped apart again and again — all of them, shooting toward Esme as soon as they hit the ground, “But as I expected, this is nothing to you.”

Each of Grea’s dismembered hands would probably be capable of piercing through an entire planet; maybe even destroying it in impact; Esme, however, was just tanking everything she couldn’t deflect or parry.

“Lesson No. 2,” Grea then pointed her finger at Esme before making a flicking gesture. And as soon as she did so, Esme suddenly found a finger almost lodged into her arm; not quite, however, as her flesh was still slightly able to bounce it off. But not even a millisecond later, another finger shot toward the very same spot on her arm — the second one was not even done bouncing off before another finger shot toward her arm… this time finally able to slightly pierce through her skin,

“Even behemoths will fall when hit at the same spot over and over again by something… tiny.”

“I already know that lesson, Miss Grea,” Esme caught one of Grea’s hands and used it to block her finger bullets, “Master did something similar when he made a drill out of an entire galaxy to completely incapacitate me when I was still an undead.”

“Riley Ross…” Grea could not help but just chuckle as she heard Esme’s words, “Truly a very interesting individual. Very well, then… Lesson No. 3.”

This time, Grea pulled out her left arm… before just attaching it above her shoulder as her original left arm regenerated; she did the same with her right arm.

“Don’t let your enemy transform to their next phase.”

“!!!”

Esme’s eyes widened as this time, Grea joined her hundreds of shooting limbs to attack Esme. Esme also tried blocking Grea’s fists as she slammed them toward her—perhaps a mistake. The power behind Grea’s dismembered limbs and her actual strike could not even be compared.

Esme just found herself suddenly sticking to the walls of the arena; most of her body, completely embedded in it. She could really only widen her eyes as she felt something she hadn’t really felt coming from someone else before — pain.

She would have probably felt this kind of pain when Riley attacked her with the cosmic drill, but she was an undead back then and couldn’t really feel anything but hunger. And so, now, Esme slightly winced as she heard her flesh and bones healing themselves.

“Lesson No. 4 — there is no time to be shocked in battle.”

“!!!” And as Esme was still registering the new sensation in her mind, Grea appeared in front of her and mercilessly slammed all of her fists at her head; again and again like a jackhammer. The audience that were trying their best not to make any noise, could no longer contain their excitement as they felt their inside tremble along with the entire arena. Each of Grea’s strikes caused Esme’s head to just go deeper and deeper into the wall.

“Lesson No. 5,” Grea slightly growled as she increased the strength behind every punch even further; almost to the point that her voice sounded almost visceral, “Never give your opponent the chance to strike back. The only time you stop your strikes is when your opponent is done for.”

“Lesson No. 6 — when you think you’re doing enough, do more.” And as Grea said those words, she grabbed the edges of the already concave wall with all of her hands and started stomping Esme’s head with her feet.

“Woah!” The audience could really only grab onto their seats as they felt the entire arena almost shift. The arena is supposed to be indestructible and immovable — and yet right now, all of their knowledge of the place is being questioned each time Esme is on the stage.

But alas, Esme’s streak seemed to be about to end as they could no longer see her fighting back.

“Lesson No. 7…” Grea’s voice then slightly lowered as she continued to stomp Esme’s face. But after a few more kicks… she suddenly stopped.

“…There is such a thing as too much difference in strength — to the point that no matter what one does…” Grea smiled, “They will never be able to fill that gap.”

And as soon as Grea said those words…

…a hand suddenly emerged from the hole and grabbed her face.