Return Of The Strongest Player

Blood enveloped the entire battlefield, shrouding it in a tint of scarlet red. The death-infested atmosphere was unwelcoming and provided those who stood in it with an inescapable feeling of dread.

Barely any signs of life were visible.

Two powers clashed relentlessly, hacking away mindlessly at each other. Both beings had an enormous beast at their side that did their bidding for them. However, the conditions of the beasts were not ideal.

Both the bear and wolf were on their last legs, capable of enduring for barely a few more minutes. Even the two humans that engaged in battle were on the verge of collapse, holding on using a sliver of hope.

Hope that their village would continue to exist, and possibly thrive in the future.

Either one of them would gladly offer their lives for that guarantee, but they both were aware of the impossibility of that outcome.

The one who survived this endeavor would naturally exterminate his opponent's village in order to prevent future struggles. Even if one achieved victory, the village wouldn't matter if most or perhaps all of its residents were dead.

Both Feyright and Gabriel were fighting a losing battle.

They were certain of their eventual loss, regardless of if they won or lost. At this point, it was a battle concerning only their remaining arrogance and ego.

With their gazes piercing even the heavens themselves, Gabriel and Feyright locked eyes, revealing the most devilish smiles they could muster. At that point, it was only a matter of who could kill the other more brutally.

"It feels unreal," muttered Feyright, his voice echoing across the battlefield that was previously a venue in which hundreds of people stood, unbeknownst to their fate, and their eventual deaths at the hands of Gabriel and Feyright. "Who could have expected us to die trying to claw at each other like mere stray cats?"

"So you admit you're a stray cat?" Gabriel inquired, revealing a toothy grin. He pushed his blood-soaked hair back, clearing up his vision as he gazed upwards at the ashen sky. The coldness of the atmosphere stung his skin.

Wounds and injuries felt much worse under the bone-chilling cold since nerves were under higher pressure.

"The immature Gabriel I knew back then has returned," Feyright let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

"You never changed," said Gabriel. "You're still the most immature brat ever. You don't care about consequences and do whatever you want whenever you want. Also, you act spoiled, as if everything in the world belongs to you."

"Had it been a few days ago, you would be successful in spiting me. But now, I feel nothing at your insults."

"Me neither… Insulting you has become mundane."

"The thought of our eventual death is settling in," Feyright spoke regretfully, shutting his eyes while heightening his senses. Feeling the wind brushing across his skin for possibly the very last time, he let out a deep sigh.

Death was much scarier when you could see it approaching.

Suddenly, Gabriel unstrapped his sword, throwing it to the ground. He glanced at the bear beside him. A warm light enveloped the bear's body, and with a swift motion of Gabriel's wrist, the beast vanished into thin air.

Feyright's jaw dropped to the floor as he observed Gabriel's incomprehensible actions, finding them to be absurd. "Why did you…"

"Our last battle…" Gabriel muttered, dropping all his accessories and items to the ground. Only a thin layer of fabric separated his body from the surrounding atmosphere. "It should be without any interference."

Feyright laughed, covering his face as he gazed coldly at Gabriel. "And what makes you think I won't kill you immediately, refusing to fight that way?"

"Kill me," said Gabriel. "We'll both have a worthless death, in that case."

Feyright's laughter faded and his deranged smile was replaced by a solemn glare. "You're not only stupid but also a maniac."

"You just realized?"

"No. But I've only just realized how 'much' of a dumbass you can be. Stripping yourself of all items during a battle to the death… Have you gone senile, old man? The old age has finally gotten to you."

"You're just as old as me, so drop the act. Just admit you were hoping for this."

Feyright dropped all of his items to the floor, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. The two old men glanced at each other, smiling as they recalled their prime days. It was absurd how things had turned out.

"Announce the battle, old man," demanded Feyright, to which Gabriel nodded. The latter was not affected by the former's harsh words, as they had already lost their meaning. No one would be offended by a dying man's words.

"Begin."

At that moment, the two shot forward, clashing in mere seconds. Strong winds rushed in opposite directions, symbolizing the endgame of the prolonged battle. Golden-purple and emerald energy swirled across the battlefield.

Hand-to-hand combat was the basic form that every warrior was supposed to master. Only after mastering weaponless combat did one build upon it. Many already possessed the quality and skipped the weaponless phase, but they were quite rare.

Especially without the advantage of regression.

Gabriel slid his hand under Feyright's armpit, preparing to dislocate the latter's shoulder with a quick strike. However, the latter spun around, throwing a jab at the former's belly, which was avoided swiftly.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

The two exchanged blows rapidly, causing the ground to crack due to the pressure. Due to their exhaustion, neither of them could produce maximum force. To fighters on their level, the battle would seem rather pitiful.

Without the use of artifacts or items of any kind, battles were quite straightforward.

But that was what made them so interesting to observe.

Rather than physical force, one relied on either pure instinct or rapid thinking. That was where the mental aspect of a battle came into play.

Only now–when both of their physical prowesses were restricted–would true talent surface.

Only now would the battle become interesting…

And dependent on cunningness.