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Chapter 373: Gladiator Titan
🕑 Added 2024-02-13 17:36:01 +0000 UTCThe fourth opponent was a dexterous swordsman. The fifth, a mage of the elements, and the sixth a wizard who used space as a weapon. All of them were easily dispatched by Jack, building up his momentum.
But that didn’t discourage the rest of his opponents. Everyone had their own strengths, and everyone wanted to compare against him—these battles weren’t to the death, anyway.
The seventh opponent was an eight-fruit mace-wielder ranked in the hundred-sixties. Jack’s physical superiority was no longer overwhelming. This was the first opponent who possessed the qualifications to seriously challenge him.
However, Jack was in a continuous fight. There were another eighteen people after this, some of whom would be even stronger than this mace-wielder. He couldn’t afford to hold back and waste energy.
The Dao of Life billowed around him. Green ribbons flew into the void, conjuring up a storm. The sounds of beastly roars and deep gongs echoed through space. Jack’s body grew taller, two extra arms appeared below his armpits, and his already towering aura climbed even higher, completely covering the Cathedral Square. For a moment, Jack was hidden in a rising column of green energy, only his intense eyes visible.
The energy dispersed, revealing a man with four arms and a titanic aura.
To the spectators, he seemed like a hundred-mile tall giant compressed to human size, as if his body contained endless strength. One finger could pierce a mountain, one roar could shatter space. His sheer physicality pressed down on everyone present like an uncaged beast staring right at them. After enduring so many shockwaves and now being stretched, his robes were barely hanging on.
This aura was not just an impression; it was the combination of Jack’s Brutalizing Aura and extreme physicality. Even Titan Taunt, his seemingly useless skill, was activated, turning his aura into a proclamation of war against the world!
This pressure was real enough to push people down.
The weaker people lost their breath. The stronger frowned and revolved their Dao to resist the pressure. As for the mace-wielder facing Jack, he felt like a boat in an ocean storm, as if the waves of Jack’s aura could capsize him at any moment. Thankfully, he was a hardened warrior. He roared, and his own aura rose to protect him, clashing against Jack’s and barely enduring.
The mace-wielder jumped forward, bringing down his weapon like a smite of god. Jack raised a hand.
The mace smacked against Jack’s palm. The spikes drew blood, but his arm remained outstretched. The mace came to an instant stop, and the other cultivator’s palm ruptured as it endured the backlash.
However, the attack’s shockwaves kept rolling. They washed over Jack, a storm of gray, pulling at his hair and carving up the ground below him. His robes, which already teetered on the verge of collapse, were torn completely. Purple flew away, revealing an upper body as if sculpted of marble—perfect muscles covered every inch, not too tightly, just enough to be considered symmetrically beautiful. Abs were clearly delineated on his abdomen, his chest stuck out like hard pillows, and his arms seemed to contain infinite power. Coupled with his sharp and handsome face, Jack was a legend given form.
His other hand came around, smashing a Meteor Punch into the mace cultivator and sending him flying into the distance. “Next!” he roared, his voice a deeper bass.
But nobody moved for a second. Jack’s robes had flown away, his body was ripped and handsome, his strength was titanic, and his aura soared as he faced the entire Cathedral by himself. Such an image was simply stunning, deeply carving itself into the minds of everyone watching.
Esmeralda threw Min Ling a pointed glance, to which the other girl only scoffed. “What’s the big deal?” she asked. “He’s just an exhibitionist showing off.” However, facing such a dashing sight, even she couldn’t help but blush a little.
If Min Ling was slightly swayed, there was no need to speak about the rest of the Cathedral’s women. Jack’s strength and talent had already captivated them—now, as his naked upper body was revealed, a sculpture of the highest artisan, they simply felt their legs grow weak and their hearts flutter.
Jack Rust…was the man!
As for Jack himself, he didn’t care about basking in everyone’s sights. He hadn’t even noticed; his own power was so great he was drunk in it, enjoying every moment. The four-armed battle form was originally meant to enhance his body. Now, after enduring so much tempering, the end result was simply too powerful. His current physical strength easily surpassed most nine-fruit C-Grades.
Packing so much strength into a human body was euphoric.
The next cultivator stepped up. In truth, after seeing him obliterate someone ranked in the hundred-sixties, most of his coming opponents felt like surrendering. They only persisted because Baron Longform secretly contacted them and demanded they step forth.
The eighth opponent, the ninth, the tenth, the eleventh. They were swept away. One punch was enough to defeat them all!
“Next!” Jack shouted again, his voice the death bell in the minds of his future opponents. Against Mental cultivators, Jack used his resilience to counter them. Even when he struggled, his extremely overpowered physical body could straightforwardly break through all illusions and magic. Against Will cultivators, his iron will rendered them useless. And there was no need to speak of Physical cultivators.
Of course, not all of Jack’s opponents were weak. Some were in the hundred-fifties, including even the person ranked exactly one hundred and fifty. Against a four-armed Jack, these people could last a few moves, sometimes inflicting minor injuries. They were all defeated, but they consumed some of his strength.
While his regeneration could last for a very long time, that did not include his stamina or Dao reserves.
The more Jack advanced, the fewer weak opponents he met—nobody would have registered to fight if someone much stronger was registered before them. By the twenty-first opponent, Jack was panting. By the twenty-fourth, he only had half his power left.
As the twenty-fifth opponent stepped out, a hard-faced woman holding a flute, a second person emerged from the crowd.
He was an old man wearing simple robes and with a wooden sword sheath strapped to his hip. His hair was sparse at the temples, but his eyes were sharper than blades. His cultivation was at the peak of eight fruits.
“Jack Rust!” he shouted. “My name is Shi Mosh, ranked 117th. I do not meet your ranking requirements, but my heart insists I test my blade against you. For that, I am willing to part with five hundred Dao stones, my life savings. Are you willing?”
Jack looked straight into the old man’s eyes. Someone of his age should have been kicked out of the Cathedral after not breaking through to the nine-fruit boundary, but there were always exceptions. In this case, this man was likely accepted due to his battle strength and soaring spirit. Just by glancing at him, Jack knew he was no lackey; he genuinely wanted to experience Jack’s strength.
“How could I refuse a good battle?” he replied, laughing. “There is no need for extravagance. Fifty Dao stones would be enough—however, I will accept no further challenges after this.”
It was no longer about the World Anchor or making a profit. Twenty-five consecutive battles had roused Jack’s fighting spirit, awakening his primal self. All he desired now was to fight!
The old man wanted to experience Jack, but Jack also wanted to experience the strength of someone close to the top hundred ranks!
“Good!” the old man laughed. “Then, I shall wait for you!”
His name was added to the list of opponents. Jack faced the flute-wielding woman—she was the hardest opponent so far, alternating between illusions and Will attacks, using them to enhance each other. Jack defeated her, but not without cost—a splitting headache beat just behind his ears, taking away part of his concentration.
Finally, the last battle arrived. Shi Mo stepped into the square—the man ranked 117th.
“Thank you for accepting to fight me,” he said, bowing at the waist.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Jack replied. “Now, come. Let’s battle!”
“Exactly what I wanted!”
Shi Mo drew a slim sword—a katana. At the same time, his upper robes expanded, then exploded in strips of fabric. This old man’s body was smaller than Jack’s, but his muscles were even more compact, even more packed together. He was simply a force of nature.
The audience cheered.
“Meet my blade!” Shi Mo shouted, exploding with a burst of speed that almost made him disappear. The thousandfold gravity was a breeze to him.
Jack felt shivers. He was extremely excited. He still hadn’t discovered his limit, and this old man was the strongest opponent he’d ever faced.
He also disappeared. The two of them streaked across the square, leaving behind series of afterimages. Clashes echoed. Metal struck skin. Blood erupted as Jack’s fists were sliced apart then quickly regenerated.
The bros ramped up their drumming. The audience roared their cheers. Everyone stared carefully, and even the Envoys had leaned forward in their chairs.
“Jack Rust! Jack Rust!” the audience echoed, their roars splitting the Cathedral.
For a time, sparks filled the square, along with many afterimages. It was like three Jacks were fighting three old men. Only the strongest people present could follow their movements. Bangs were interspersed into the sounds of combat as Jack used Meteor Punches in succession. Space was split apart like thin curtains, further enhancing the speed of the two fighters.
Jack’s physical prowess was far beyond a normal eight-fruit cultivator’s, but the old man also specialized in physicality. His speed and strength were approaching Jack’s, forcing him to constantly sacrifice his hands to survive. This battle style was similar to when Jack fought Marcus William, but at a far higher level.
Marcus, who was also in the crowd, could only sigh.
The old man possessed not only power and speed, but also experience. He combined simple moves into infinite variations. He remained unpredictable throughout the battle, occasionally erupting with tricks that Jack struggled to stand against.
Jack also had a trick, but he was saving it for the perfect moment.
Finally, at a completely random moment, the old man erupted with power. He instantly went all-out. There was no grandstanding, no preparation, no signs this would happen. He was far deadlier than the show-offish cultivators of the Cathedral—a true life or death warrior.
However, who was Jack? He had walked the razor’s edge for a year. He had survived many life or death battles, often turning the tables to win. In those moments, a single mistake could have spelled his death—how could he be unfamiliar with real battle?
When the old man erupted with his full strength, Jack instantly followed. A blinking blade met a fist slower than the others, but far more powerful. Either Jack would blow away the old man, or he would be cut into two.
At the same time, however, another of Jack’s four fists slithered. It used the properties of space to accelerate impossibly fast, reaching the old man before the other fist had met the sword. Of course, for a fist to be this fast, it was necessarily weak—but it carried a hidden strike.
“Fist of Emotions!”
A thousand lifetimes burst into the old man’s heart. He sank into visions of life and death, joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. He saw loved ones die and babies being born, the everyday person’s struggle to survive. An entire world unraveled in an instant.
The old man guarded against the illusions, shielding his mind and using his Sword Dao to cut them away. However, that single instant had weakened his previously all-out attack—and, in a battle between masters, a single flaw could be fatal.
Jack’s full-power Meteor Punch smashed against the old man’s strongest strike. Purple met gray. Two auras expanded, instantly covering the entire Cathedral Square, grinding against each other. A series of booms came from the epicenter, then everything folded back on itself as all sound and light were completely shattered, leaving the point of impact a wide sphere of nothingness.
The ringing of a blade resounded, covering all other sounds. The gray aura cleanly broke into two as the fist pierced through, reaching the old man’s chest.
Shi Mo flew away with enough speed to sear the void. Blood left his mouth, and his innards were completely broken. He was only barely alive—but his grip on the sword remained as hard as ever.
A gentle power grabbed Shi Mo and stopped his flight, courtesy of the watching Envoys. And, as space repaired itself and light returned, everyone saw Jack Rust still standing at the center of the square, his body shaking, his panting ragged, his fists bloodied.
His aura, victorious.
Everyone erupted into cheers. Almost a thousand mouths opened to shout for the man who defeated everyone.
Jack Rust…had triumphed!
Comments
Greg Lambert
Great work on this. Fun battles
Melody Haren Anderson
I'm going to be shocked if Jack doesn't try to develop a battle rival/friendship with the last warrior. He saw a kindred spirit, but one honed over a long time rather that rapidly like him.
