Chapter 397 Lethal Kick

Chapter 397 Lethal Kick "I see... no matter what expression you have, it's always powered by anger, huh? What a weirdo," Lyrian said, clutching his stomach as he slowly stood up.

He reached into his storage ring and retrieved a red elixir of constant regeneration before drinking it in one swig.

In Zaryn, two different types of healing elixirs were prominent. First was an instant healing elixir/potion. These were the most common. They worked in a way where they healed you for a large chunk of health for one moment, and then their effects disappeared. The rarer version of these was the second one, the constant healing potion. Unlike the instant potion, the constant worked for an extended duration of time. Although it healed less at that instant, Lyrian decided that something like a constant healing elixir would be put to use best here fighting anger.

After drinking it, his core began to quickly heal. Anger cracked his neck side to the side, preparing for Lyrian.

The other adventurers stayed still for a moment, shocked at the speed and intensity of what just happened.

At that moment Anger exclaimed, "The strongest. That is who I go for first, for no one deserves to be stronger than I in any room. If you think you are, then I'll kill you for it." He spoke in a tone that seemed to never stop being angry. Ruthless, furious even. His eyes were full of hatred, wanting to shed as much bloodshed as possible.

"You said you're the Fourth Hair of the Black Petal Sect? Then it's confirmed. The bastards behind these disappearances are that forbidden sect after all," Lyrian yelled out to the man.

"You're right, stupid brat! Truth be told when I was sent out here to rip apart the Hyroon family, I didn't expect to be found. We are currently working in secret. However... it doesn't matter much. You all will be ripped apart as well... dead men tell no tales."

Everyone took in a deep breath after those rough words that came from a deep and scratchy voice.

"Bastard! You won't get away with this!" Rothis exclaimed, unsheathing his sword as he dashed forward.

"No! Rothis! It's too dangerous!" Zyon tried to say as the rest of the adventurers tried to follow behind him. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ NøvᴇlFirᴇ(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

"Stop," Osikae calmly said at that moment, forcing everyone to halt in their tracks.

Only Rothis continued, blinded by his rage. Anger didn't even move, simply looking at Rothis with an angry expression.

As soon as Rothis got close, he lunged forward with a coordinated strike. He wasn't a noob by any means. In fact, many could consider him a high-ranking expert. He had taken out goons like these thousands of times in the past. His technique seemed seamless as his blade appeared before Anger.

However, at that convincing moment, Anger suddenly grabbed his blade with his bare hand.

Rothis' body was forced to a stop as his eyes expanded in shock.

"W-what?" He uttered under his breath, slightly taken aback and dazed from what just happened.

At that moment Anger grunted before gripping Rothis' blade hard. Veins appeared throughout his forearm, and Rothis' blade suddenly shattered into a thousand pieces as if it were made of glass.

Rothis couldn't fathom what happened, but that didn't matter. Anger turned on his heel, kicking the adventurer in the stomach.

Rothis was launched across the room with a large foot indent in his stomach. His eyes rolled back into his head as he coughed an unhealthy amount of blood.

'That kick... is lethal.' Lyrian thought to himself, not seeing Rothis or anyone in the adventurer group being able to survive it.

He tried to move, but Anger's bloodlust made him realize that Anger was keeping an eye on him at all times. If he was to move then to help Rothis, Anger would just stop him, so he had no other choice but to stand still for now.

"Rothis!" Cylline screamed, quickly running over to where he had fallen.

Lyrian looked over at Osikae at this moment, who still stood with a stoic face, 'I like his straightforwardness and honesty... but this might not have happened if he withheld Rothis.' He mused. 'It seems he doesn't care much about his teammates.'

However, at that moment Osikae also moved, but in the opposite direction of Rothis.

He moved toward Lyrian, surprising the boy a little.

"Lord Lyrian! Please pass me a healing elixir!" Osikae shouted out of nowhere.

Lyrian reached into his storage ring again, but at that moment, Anger pushed on his heel and dove toward Lyrian.

Lyrian acted quickly, throwing an elixir to Osikae before pulling his blade out in front of him to block Anger's punch.

The punch was mere inches from Lyrian's face when his obsidian blade came in the way and stopped it. Still, the force of the blow caused him to slide back over 10 feet.

Anger retracted his, breathing aggressively.

Osikae quickly sprinted to where Rothis was and aided him with the elixir from Lyrian.

"I'll beat you. You aren't as strong as you think you are," Lyrian said, placing his blade by his side.

'I say that, but I wouldn't have been able to take a blow of that magnitude straight on. No... I would have been killed. Only because of the immense durability of this blade that Brokkr made for me am I safe now...' He thought to himself, slightly worried.

'If worse comes to worse, I'll have to use my creatures.' Lyrian thought to himself, looking around for other possibilities.

"You said you were the Fourth Hair right? What the hell does that mean?" Lyrian suddenly questioned to stall time in order for him to think. However, it was also true that this question piqued his curiosity.

'I've heard of a Third Head... thats the guy that the bald guy told me about that controlled the distribution of illegal Dark Ore swords and other stuff. But what's this Third Hair crap? Are they related somehow?'

"Fourth Hair means I am the fourth strongest."

'Fourth Strongest!?' Lyrian thought, shocked, 'This strong... and only fourth place!?'

"Fourth strongest within the lower ranks." Anger suddenly grinned through his violent expression.