361 Two Faced

"Let's have a good battle," Leonard said, looking at Tyrone.

"Sure," Tyrone replied.

"Who do you think will win?"

"Of course, Leon will win. What a silly question."

"But Tyrone Martell is no pushover."

Many speculated about the match, but no one could confidently predict the outcome between the two.

In the last End Year Tournament, Raelyn, Tyrone, and Leonard demonstrated comparable strength. Tyrone lost to Raelyn, and Leonard also fell to her. As a result, Leonard held the Rank 2 position, but his loss had been a razor-thin margin.

Damian and Amelia were discussing the upcoming match when Asher approached from behind.

"Yo, that was a solid fight." Damian raised his thumb in congratulations.

"Congrats," Amelia echoed.

"Thanks," Asher responded, his expression unchanging, as he settled down to watch the stage.

"What's your take? Who'll come out on top?" Damian asked, just as the match was set to begin.

"Who knows," Asher replied.

Though Asher's face was expressionless, the intensity of his headache kept escalating, showing no signs of abating.

Any average individual would have been writhing in agony, but Asher had become numb to pain.

"Like father, like son," Xarax remarked aloud.

"He's quite adept at currying the public's favor," Xarax said, turning to look at Osbert.

Two faced, that was word that came to Xarax's mind when he looked at Osbert.

He found it funny how people believed this man was way better than the Elite Families.

Osbert's eyes met Xarax's briefly upon hearing the comment.

It was evident that the World Association enjoyed the public's support. This association was tasked with maintaining order and regulating the Elite families.

It was also clear that the World Association was in contention with the three most powerful elite families.

Osbert was aware that Xarax was targeting him, especially since he had sided with Farnus, facilitating the entire Successor Candidate process.

Had they all resisted, Farnus would have had to take a step back, and Xarax could have deferred the matter to the forthcoming High Council Meeting.

Yet, thanks to Osbert's support, Farnus secured the full backing of the World Association.

Tyrone's aura surged as he gripped a two-handed long sword.

Leonard, in contrast, calmly invoked his aura, bracing for the duel's commencement.

The stage had been reinforced, tailored to withstand the might of two Rank B Hunters.

"Begin!" the referee declared.

Instantly, Leonard twisted his wrist and deftly flicked his sword upward, releasing a massive wind torrent towards Tyrone.

ραΠdαsΝοvel.cοm Tyrone remained steadfast. With a precise slash, he cleaved the gale in two, allowing it to dissipate behind him.

"Quite impressive," Leonard remarked with a smile.

Both vanished, only to reappear at the center of the stage where their swords met with a clash.

To First and even most Second Years, their movements were little more than a blur.

The rapid exchanges of their swords, leading up to this lock, were nearly imperceptible.

'He's improved,' Tyrone realized, sensing Leonard's enhanced strength.

As their swords remained interlocked, Leonard slightly tilted his blade, aiming to break free. However, before Leonard could swing at him, Tyrone quickly retreated, increasing the distance between them.

"I didn't realize he was this strong," Damian commented aloud, observing Leonard.

"They're both beyond the level of an average B Rank Hunter," Amelia noted.

"Well, he is the son of the World Association's Chairman," Damian added.

"Is that the best the Vice President of the Student Council has?" Leonard taunted, parrying Tyrone's assaults.

"Don't worry, I've yet more to unveil," Tyrone responded, taking another step back.

"Martell's Second Sword," Tyrone murmured, his long sword beginning to glow.

"Is that the Ember Art of the Martell family?" a few students whispered.

A flame enveloped the blade, changing its hue to a vibrant orange. Leonard's smile widened in response.

"Third Remer," Leonard intoned. An unfamiliar flame emerged, winding up from Leonard's arm and enveloping his sword.

The Remer Art, the sword technique employed by the Tarvian family, was identical to that which the current Chairman of the World Association wielded.

This display naturally piqued the interest of many students and even Guild Recruiters.

"Let's determine whose flame burns brighter," Leonard challenged, lunging at Tyrone.

His feet seared the ground beneath, flames dancing around his limbs.

The Third Remer technique allowed the user to envelop their body in an element, reinforcing them.

Using Third Remer, Osbert could melt even the bones of the most formidable SS Rank Monsters with just his bare hands.

However, Third Remer underwent a transformation when paired with a weapon, turning any armament into a lethal instrument.

Tyrone's eyes widened as he invoked Martell's Second Sword, merging his aura with the fire element.I think you should take a look at ραΠdαsnovel.cοm

Such a feat was typically reserved for S Rank individuals or higher, but the Martell Bloodline ability made it far more accessible for him than for most.

"I often ponder what you might've achieved had you possessed that Bloodline ability," Sylvus mused to Dexter.

"I've wondered the same," Dexter admitted with a chuckle.

Indeed, the Martell Family's bloodline ability had fostered generations of exceptional weapon makers and craftsmen. Their primary enterprise centered around this.

Yet, at their core, they were a Hunter family, so typically only the Martell branch members engaged in these artisan professions.

Within the Artisan's Association, the Martells enjoyed unique prestige, freely coming and going without a care.

However, Dexter Wright eclipsed the Martell's renown when he showcased his innovative creations and skills.

Tyrone's sword met Leonard's in a fiery clash as their flames intertwined.

Clang!

Clang!

With each clash, the intensity of their flames amplified.

By the third collision, Leonard was slightly pushed back as Tyrone channeled his might into a singular strike.

Yet, Tyrone's expression was marred by frustration.

"Remember, Tyrone Martell, aim only for the 3rd Rank. We want no confrontations with Osbert Tarvian," the Elder of the Martell Family had advised Tyrone a week before the End Year Tournament.

"Why should I listen to your advice?" Tyrone retorted, pausing his training.

"If it weren't for your blunder, we wouldn't be in this predicament," the Elder responded sharply.

Tyrone's fists tightened, struggling to come to terms with the Elder's words.

'A mistake on my part?' Tyrone fumed internally, keeping his emotions under wraps.

"It's a direct order from the Family Head. If you wish to remain a part of the family, adhere to it," the Elder declared before ending the call.

Despite being one of the most promising talents in his lineage, Tyrone found himself in a dilemma. To satisfy his family's wishes, he had to feign defeat.

"I should've seen this coming," Tyrone mused, a wry chuckle escaping him.

In the ongoing match, Tyrone was acutely aware of the challenge Leonard posed.

He could feel the flames around Leonard slowly affecting him despite Tyrone having a body that was resistant to fire the most.

It was because of the Martell Bloodline Ability as it made their bodies resistant to fire to a certain degree, but against Leonard, he was still feeling it.

'As if I could easily best him,' Tyrone conceded internally.

Leonard was a tough opponent for Raelyn who was Rank 1 and what his family wanted him to do was to not make any complications with Leonard Tarvian.

The Martell Family maintained neutrality, affiliating with no factions. They were renowned weapon manufacturers, and their principal client was none other than the World Association.

If Tyrone really wanted, he could push Leonard to his limits to make his chances of winning against Raelyn go lower.

It was a dirty tactic to do, but Tyrone was already warned to not do anything stupid like that.

Osbert Tarvian was coming to the End Year Tournament himself, and the last thing they wanted was a rift between the Martell Family and the World Association.

Tyrone amplified his aura, determined to at least have a fair fight.

'I don't care if I lose,' Tyrone thought, anger swelling within him.

Leonard perceived a change in the swiftness of Tyrone's swordplay.

'What a madman,' Leonard mused.

Tyrone's speed with the two-handed sword was comparable to Leonard's, but his flames were less potent. Leonard knew he had a stronger affinity for fire and took pride in that fact.

"Fourth Remer," Leonard intoned. The flames around his limbs became fainter but more intense, augmenting Leonard's power.

Bam!

Bam!

Raelyn observed the bout; Leonard was employing the very technique that had troubled her in their previous match.

"This will be challenging for him," Raelyn murmured, aware that Tyrone lacked defensive items, making victory a distant prospect.

"You seem unscathed by my flame," Leonard remarked as their swords clashed.

"But this is as far as you go," Leonard declared. As he twisted his blade, a glint appeared in his eyes.

This technique, one he'd learned from Osbert, had the potency to take down a Rank B monster in just one move.

The ambient temperature rose as the flames sharply concentrated on the edge of Leonard's blade.

"Flame Slash," Leonard intoned, slashing his sword downward.

Tyrone, despite the burning sensation on his skin and the force pushing him back, retained his composure.

"Martell's Fourth Sword," he murmured.

His flames began to flow in reverse, effectively countering Leonard's assault. As Tyrone neared the stage's edge, he halted, with the attack veering off to his side, liquefying the stage around them.

"Not bad," Leonard acknowledged with a grin, swinging his sword through the air.

Yet, burn marks marred his armor and skin. Anyone else in Tyrone's position would have either incurred severe injuries or instinctively evaded such an onslaught.

"But you're aware, fire isn't my primary element," Leonard remarked, smiling as the flames around him intensified.

The gusts grew fiercer, amplifying the fiery aura encircling Leonard's feet.

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