hotmtlnovel Chapter 266 Best of Warriors II
Chapter 266 Best of Warriors II
Vorgrim—Canna's second born and the general of the shock troops of the sanctuary—stood tall, his red skin gleaming under the dim light of the arena. He wasn't built for mass destruction like Mortem, Canna's firstborn, whose undead armies could decimate villages if he wanted. No, Vorgrim's strength lay in his raw power, his unmatched skills in close combat.
He was born to fight, to conquer—one opponent at a time.
In the sanctuary arena, Vorgrim was the undisputed champion. Though Mortem thrived in large-scale battles with his necromantic forces, Vorgrim excelled in one-on-one duels. He was a warrior in the purest sense, forged from the blood of the Voragons, a race of ancient, relentless conquerors.
They were the first race in Sepra to discover martial arts, the first to train with weapons and hone their bodies for combat. And they were ruthless, known to conquer entire nations just for the thrill of fighting powerful opponents.
It was said that the Voragons had been wiped out long ago, their savagery leading them to challenge forces they couldn't defeat. But the tales were fragmented, and even Canna didn't have the full story of their downfall. What mattered now was that Vorgrim was the last of his kind—a relic of a bygone era, standing before the saint of Clan Varran, ready to prove his mettle once more.
Vorgrim's eyes gleamed with the fire of battle as he regarded the saint. The elder had shed his aura of calm and now stood ready, his muscles taut, his fists clenched. Vorgrim, in a show of respect, tossed aside his own weapons, letting them clatter to the floor of the arena. This was to be a battle of fists, and Vorgrim would face the saint as a warrior—no weapons, no tricks.
"Warrior, prepare." Vorgrim's voice rumbled like distant thunder as he raised his fists, stepping forward with unshakable confidence.
The saint felt a ripple of unease run through him. Vorgrim was only a great-calamity, but the aura he projected was something else entirely. His presence was overwhelming, the weight of centuries of battle experience clinging to him like a shroud. Still, the saint pushed the feeling aside. No matter how strong this newcomer was, he was still just a great-calamity.
The elder, with his saint rank, was far more powerful. He would obliterate Canna's red-skinned subordinate and end this farce.
The fight had escalated into a brutal brawl, both fighters landing devastating blows that would have crippled anyone else. But Vorgrim was not slowing down. If anything, he was getting stronger, his attacks more precise as he adapted to the saint's new strength.
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Meanwhile, Varya was barking orders through her communication stone, her voice filled with frustration. Minutes had passed, and yet no one had responded to her calls. Usually, there would be an immediate reply, especially in an emergency like this, but now there was only silence.
Her instincts suddenly screamed at her to dodge, and she barely managed to sidestep in time to avoid a bone spear that had been aimed directly at her head. She looked up, her eyes narrowing at the sound of clacking bones in front of her.
Mortem, Canna's firstborn, materialized from the shadows, his skeletal form towering over her, his menacing staff at the ready.
Hovering above, Noctis had cast a spell that blocked Varya's communications, ensuring she would receive no help. Mortem's mission was clear: Capture Varya. It was a direct order from Canna, and Mortem would not fail.
Varya stared at the skeletal figure before her, weighing her options.
"You won't take me that easily, monster," Varya hissed, summoning her sword and taking a fighting stance.
Mortem's soulless eyes gleamed in the dim light, and without a word, he charged at her, his staff raised high, the very air around him crackling with dark energy.