I Received System to Become Dragonborn

Chapter 705 Not Enough

Aerchon gritted his teeth. His grip tightening around his Magic sword. He could feel the weight of the battle pressing against him. The realization of what they were up against. A traitor that once he called uncle, and a disturbing construct that he had made.

Eryndor was unlike anything he had fought before. He wasn't just strong, he can also changes his body to evolve. Aerchon can see that he will be able to absorbed and countered every attack they made because his body alredy changing.

But Aerchon wasn't about to back down againts that abomination.

Without a word, he lunged forward.

His blade cut through the air with blinding speed, aimed directly for Eryndor's head. The cybernetic Elf's eyes flickered and analyzing the trajectory in an instant.

Just as the attack was about to land, Eryndor's neck twisted unnaturally, avoiding the blade by mere inches. The moment Aerchon's attack missed Eryndor immediately retaliated.

A metallic limb lashed out like a whip, his arm morphing mid-motion into a serrated blade.

Aerchon twisted his body, narrowly evading the slash as sparks flew from the floor where the weapon attack landed.

He planted his foot and countered, bringing his sword in a fast wide arc. But again, Eryndor's body adjusted, his armor plates shifting to his flesh part, forming a reinforced guard that deflected the blow.

"I need to be faster."

Aerchon poured his speed into the fight, his attacks becoming relentless and faster. His sword became a blur of light and striking from all directions, looking for a gap that could be exploited.

But with each clash, Eryndor's movements became smoother.

Then, in a single devastating instant, instead of Aerchon, Eryndor found his opening.

He caught Aerchon's sword mid-swing. His fingers that reinforced with hidden mechanisms clamped down so strongly.

The sheer force behind his grip sent a sharp vibration through the blade. Before Aerchon could react, Eryndor's other arm shifted then transforming into a long gleaming spear aimed directly at his chest.

Aerchon had only a fraction of a second. He let go of his sword and threw himself backward just as the spear shot forward.

The tip of the weapon grazed his armor, slicing through the fabric and drawing a thin line of blood across his torso. He landed in a crouch and breathing heavily, his sword still trapped in Eryndor's grasp.

Behind him, the others watched in tense silence. Vael's knuckles were white around his bow, and Sylra's fingers twitched near her daggers, waiting for the right moment to strike as well.

Eryndor tilted his head slightly, his artificial gaze locked onto Aerchon. Experience more tales on My Virtual Library Empire

Aerchon's eyes also remained locked on Eryndor, his breath steady despite the pain from his wound. Even with his sword trapped and this strange enemy looming over him, he showed no fear.

Sylra cast a worried glance at Saeldir, unable to ignore the way Aerchon looks struggled against Eryndor.

"Shouldn't we help him?" she asked.

But Saeldir remained calm. He said, "Don't worry. He's not losing."

Sylra frowned. "Are you sure?"

Saeldir's gaze never wavered. "Remember, he is the prince of the Elf Palace. Don't underestimate him."

Sylra, Vael, and Arlyn exchanged uncertain looks. As Forest Elves, they had never lived among the highborn of the Elf Palace. They knew of Aerchon's title but had never witnessed his true strength firsthand. Still, they held their ground, for now.

Yet their unease grew as they watched his sword, trapped in Eryndor's grasp. This doesn't looking good for Aerchon.

Aerchon's jaw clenched in frustration, but his blue eyes remained calm.

His fingers twitched slightly and a faint glow shimmered around his hand. It was a subtle and almost imperceptible but enough for Saeldir to notice.

Sylra still looked unconvinced, shifting slightly as if ready to spring into action.

Eryndor start moving. His artificial fingers tightened around Aerchon's sword, the mechanisms in his palm twisting with an eerie grinding noise, exerting pressure meant to crush the blade entirely.

"You look like you rely too much on this weapon," Eryndor said, his voice cold and mechanical. "Without it, you are nothing."

A loud crack echoed as the sword's surface fractured under the pressure. Sparks scattered into the air, and Sylra's breath hitched. It was breaking.

But Aerchon moved first.

Before the sword could fully shatter, Aerchon let out a sharp breath and snapped his fingers.

In an instant, the blade erupted with Magic. A searing white light flashed as pure Magical force surged through the cracks, overloading the energy inside.

Eryndor's cybernetic eyes flickered in alarm. But he was too late.

The blade exploded with a burst of strong Magic energy. A shockwave rippled outward and forcing everyone back as Eryndor staggered, his grip finally breaking. Pieces of the sword's hilt fell from his damaged fingers and molten metal dripping onto the floor.

And Aerchon was already in motion.

Using the explosion's momentum, he lunged forward, his body twisting mid-air. His fists that now wrapped in surging Magical energy became his new weapons.

BAM!

Aerchon's first strike slammed into Eryndor's exposed side. The impact sent cracks rippling across his armored plating, forcing him back.

BAM!

BAM!

A second and third strike followed.

Eryndor struggled to counter. His adaptive body tried to shift and compensate but Aerchon wasn't fighting in a pattern anymore. He wasn't using calculated swordplay or predictable strikes. For years, he already trained his body to the fullest. Not just in Magic control but also in physical battle.

He was fighting like a storm now and became to wild and unstoppable for Eryndor.

Sylra's eyes widened slightly. This was why Saeldir wasn't worried. Aerchon was more than just a swordsman or Magic fighter. He had also trained in combat that didn't rely on weapons alone.

Eryndor unable to fully adapt now so he went on the defensive. He raised his arms, trying to block, but Aerchon's fists burned with Magical force, breaking through his defenses piece by piece.

Then, with a final leap, Aerchon flipped over Eryndor and landing behind him. His right hand crackled with concentrated Magic, forming into a pure white blade made of energy.

With a single flashing arc he sliced straight through Eryndor's back.

A deep wound tore through the cybernetic Elf's frame. Sparks flew wildly as something inside him failed. His body spasming as his mechanical components flickered.

The moment his feet hit the ground, Aerchon didn't even look at what he was done. He simply exhaled and straightened.

Behind him, Eryndor stood frozen. Then his body collapsed to one knee.

Aerchon looked at Laston with sharp and challengin eyes.

"That's your champion?" he asked.

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