Building An Empire Starting From The Labor Camp In Exile-Chapter 297: Sand Tornado

The tornado collapsed.

The force from the technique that Atrox used was enough to destabilize the movement and the heat was strong enough to melt some of the sands.

Atrox was thrown skidding into the ground where he heaved. Everything was spinning, he couldn’t tell up from front and sides. It was as if he was now in a world that was in constant spinning motion.

And his stomach felt strange, as if he had no internal organs at all. Atrox tried to take a step but he found himself on the ground. ’...when did I even stand up...’

He groaned.

Somewhere Svenjar was laughing. The sand waves condensed into the shape of a Knight that was five times bigger than his normal size. He held a giant hammer made of sand in his hand and he rested against it as he watched Atrox.

"Clan leader, every attack from me is designed to kill. To weaken. I do not have the brain to start making changes on the battlefield so I’ve trained myself so hard on all my techniques.

"But you’ve surprised me. All who have entered my tornado have passed out with saliva and mucus running down their nose. I get more impressed by you every time!"

Atrox struggled to his feet and forced a smile on his face towards where he thought Svenjar’s voice was coming from, but his eyes were still spinning too much for him to make an accurate guess. "I... I... am... glad t... o... to impress."

"Please continue to do so, Clan leader!" Svenjar shouted. He lifted the hammer high above his head, and then he dug his right foot in. The ground cracked as he exerted strength.

Bam!

He smashed Atrox with the hammer and he didn’t hold back.

It wasn’t the ground that was smashed but a cracking dent appeared where Atrox was standing before he was hurled so hard and fast that he slammed into the shield with snapping sounds as if his bones were broken. The shield cracked, the translucent thing shuddering and trembling.

This time, the speculators were silent. Of course, they’ve all witnessed violence but they’ve never seen two Knights go at it so hard against each other like that before.

It was magnificent. It was terrifying. But they couldn’t look away.

In the royal stand, Eryndor’s tattoos were glowing faintly and the man was gripping his hands, his bones creaked gently. "Is it time for me to go in then?"

Slya rolled her eyes. "Why? You want to destroy his winning?"

Eryndor couldn’t believe his ears. "But he’s getting a thrashing! I know from that sound that at least two of his ribs were shattered and one limb bone snapped."

Tiber turned to him. "Oh, you’ve never seen him fight, have you? Look at the fighting platform."

Eryndor, who had turned his attention away in worry, looked at the platform. His eyes widened. "Impossible. He’s healed already? An Errant Knight?"

Tiber and Slya only laughed. "Relax. The real fun might start now but only if Atrox wanted to give us something to watch."

Atrox picked himself from the ground and rolled his shoulder. His hand went to his stomach and he grimaced. The reason it always seemed as if he could take a beating was because he healed extremely fast. He had enough essence to use. And because he could actually take a beating.

"Bastard actually broke my bones," Atrox said but he still nodded in satisfaction. "He’s not holding back at all. What a strong son of a bastard."

"I shouldn’t hold back as well. It will be a disrespect to you, Svenjar."

Svenjar was going towards Atrox, each of his steps shaking the ground. He swung the massive hammer casually. "Do you have healing powers as well? You heal so fast. If I have...!!"

Suddenly Svenjar stopped walking and his back hunched instinctively. His eyes, made of sand, widened. "What is this?"

He wasn’t the only one. Although the shield on the platform was containing it, all the Knights in attendance in the arena felt it. As if a rain of pressure was falling down on them.

Only a Master Knight should be able to use that much pressure.

But their eyes couldn’t deceive them. It wasn’t a Master Knight.

The pressure they were feeling was from him. Him. The Clan leader of the Soryu Clan had freed his essence pressure. And it was mixed with his bloodlust.

"What the..." Eryndor had run to the front of the room and was looking through the glass. He shivered slightly. "An Errant Knight produced this kind of pressure? Shit. No wonder he was able to kill Thrain. No, this is no Errant Knight!"

If there was a rank between the Errant Rank and Master Rank, then Atrox would be there.

Atrox nodded at Svenjar. "I hope you forgive me. I’ve not been taking things seriously before. That changes now."

"Wait..." Svenjar gave a nervous chuckle. If sand could sweat, perhaps he would have sweated a little. "I didn’t know you were like this... are you an incomplete Master Knight?"

He looked up but Atrox was already gone from his place.

Svenjar felt a lick of heat from above and knew that the attack would be coming from there but still he couldn’t move fast enough to avoid it.

A kick that was trailing fire caught him on the head and smacked him right down into the ground. Atrox didn’t give him a chance and created several fire spears that he hurled at him.

A big body only makes a big target. Svenjar’s body exploded into countless sand fragments, quickly reforming into his small size.

The fire spears exploded against the ground, sending chunks of stones flying.

Svenjar sneered at Atrox and then he flew at him, trying to draw him into physical fighting but Atrox wouldn’t let him. Svenjar had the advantage when it came to physical fighting in his sand state.

Others’ attacks wouldn’t do much against him, only sending some sands flying but he could just make more sand. Meanwhile, Svenjar’s attacks would slowly accumulate on the other person.

That was what made him dangerous.

Of course, Atrox was the same with his massive core but right there he wasn’t looking to fight with hands. Atrox wanted to burn things. He wasn’t going to hold back.