Building An Empire Starting From The Labor Camp In Exile-Chapter 296: Dominion

Atrox gained new understanding of Svenjar and how dangerous he could be in the desert with his whole body turning into sands.

Svenjar grinned. "Do you understand now? There’s no way you can hold on to the title of the strongest Errant Knight. I have just two techniques. One is to multiply sands and the other is to turn myself into this and control it at will."

"Do you still want to fight or will you just surrender now, Clan Leader of the Soryu Clan?"

Suddenly, some of the people that bet for Atrox were feeling down and anxious, as if they’d lost before it even all began. But still, they held hope as they watched the platform projection intently. It wasn’t because Atrox was the Clan Leader that they held hope, but because of their gold.

Before Svenjar finished speaking, Atrox was already on the move. He turned into a blurring streak, but unlike before, Svenjar wasn’t caught unaware.

He even lurched himself forward to meet Atrox halfway across.

The two slammed into each other with bone-snapping force. Svenjar was thrown back a little, but he recovered quickly. They jumped at each other again, and this time they began to trade blows.

There was no technique, no fancy moves—just raw punches thrown at each other. Each punch sounded like thunder striking a mountaintop, and it echoed throughout the arena, making the spectators wince.

Their blows had generated a strong wind around them. The ground beneath them was cracked.

Svenjar was laughing as he traded blows. "Not bad! Not bad, Atrox! It’s as if I’m punching essence-tempered iron! Just what type of strength do you have? You’re only covered in a thin layer of essence!"

Indeed, Atrox was covered in a thin layer of essence, a faint reddish glow that gave the subtle feel of melting iron. It might seem like something weak, but Atrox was pumping a lot of essence into it—so much so that the essence covering his body should have shattered and turned into a storm around him.

But he had bound it so he could put in a lot of essence. It’s what he used for his close combat. It was recently made by him after he read through the technique books of the Soryu Clan.

Atrox continued his punching. It might seem as if he wasn’t getting affected, but his high essence rate just meant that he could heal very fast.

’...This guy... I’m really impressed by him... Just why did the Akatsuki not value him?... His punch would have done serious damage to me had I been an average Errant Knight...’

It was as if a desert region was carved out and then made into a fist, and then using the said fist to punch someone. It was as if Riven was fighting something that wasn’t human.

Even all the punches he was throwing at the man didn’t seem to affect him. Atrox was just punching sands as if he were venting anger.

Svenjar realized the same thing and he jumped away, disengaging from the exchange. He rolled his shoulders and brushed sands away. "Atrox! You deserve to be called a Clan Leader! Not many people can withstand my blows when I’m in this state. You are indeed stronger than the average Errant Knight, but that doesn’t mean you are allowed to be called the strongest!"

"And you are?" Atrox asked in amusement. He couldn’t help but feel a trace of fondness for the guy. He reminded him of Slya somewhat.

Svenjar laughed again. "If I’m not, do you think I’d be here?"

With that, his body expanded. Sands began to multiply at a terrifying rate, and Svenjar’s body collapsed under the surging waves.

He turned into a storm of sand that began to whirl up into a tornado, sweeping everything toward it.

Atrox dug his feet into the ground and hunched his back, forcing himself from getting blown toward the sand tornado. But the tornado wasn’t ordinary. It came with some kind of strong suction force that jerked everything toward it.

Stones from the platform shook and broke loose. Stabs went hurling into the storm. Now the tornado didn’t just roll with sands alone—chunks of stones blurred inside.

A translucent shield quickly sealed off the fighting platform from the rest of the spectators so they wouldn’t be harmed. "You can’t win this. You should have stopped me before I transformed myself to sand. Do you think you can face the wrath of the desert?"

Svenjar’s voice was now a howl, a loud blasting thing that sounded like stones grinding.

Atrox frowned as the tornado began to come closer, and in a blink, it was in front of him. "Honestly, this guy is tough and will be a difficult opponent for most people to handle."

Instead of fighting the force from the tornado, Atrox simply let go, and with a whooshing snap, he was yanked forward, hurling into the tornado.

Suddenly, the screaming spectators were silent. It was over? Just like that? Their eyes widened, and for some split second, they actually felt bad for their Clan Leader. But then, those who bet against him began to shout, giving everyone else an "I told you so" look.

But Atrox was far from done. He was deep into the tornado, spinning with such force that the only thing Atrox could see was a blur as he was sent upside down and sideways at the same time. His internal organs seemed to have turned liquid, and he was having difficulty putting together a thought!

Sharp stones smashed into him at high speed, and the sands scorched his back, seeking to peel away his skin like a sword sharpener. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Atrox might not be able to put together much thought, but his mind was used to basic instructions from him that were more or less instinct at that point. So without thinking about it too much, Atrox shoved essence into his mind, where a formation was waiting.

"Dominion!" Atrox shouted.

If one of the spectators were asked to describe it, one of them who might be a poet might say they saw a reddish glow that resembled noon suddenly explode out, lighting up the tornado from inside out and briefly painting the sands as if spilled with blood.