Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 146 - 145 - “Wasn’t physical enough, huh?”

Graye stood like a tragic statue of chivalry, sword planted in the wreckage of the arena, armor glinting in the sun.

His aura wavered with uncertainty—but his voice was still steady.

"No!" He exclaimed, shaking his head so hard that his helmet almost flew off. "I can’t admit defeat. My father once said—’A warrior may fall, but never surrenders!’ If you want to win... you’ll have to knock me unconscious!"

Raven’s face twitched.

’Goddamn it,’ he muttered mentally. ’Of course. Of course, it had to be this way. He’s one of those guys.’

The crowd was silent.

Somewhere in the background, some squirrels peeked out from under a bench, eyes gleaming with suspense.

Jessy chewed on jerky.

Clara facepalmed in exasperation.

Siris looked mildly interested.

Meanwhile, Raven stared at Graye as if he’d just been told the only way to win was to defeat friendship itself.

’So we’re back to square one,’ he sighed. ’I can’t beat this guy in brute force. That would make him stronger. I can’t keep dodging, as the fight would then go on forever. What can I do?!’

Then, the dark thoughts crept in.

He slowly looked at the ground.

’What if... I just killed him?’

"...Bro," Omni said, his voice flat while his tattooed form on Raven’s arm pulsed. "That escalated fast."

’I mean, it’d end the match instantly. No more dragging things out. You can cut through anything. I just go zip-zap, and he’s in half. Boom. Win.’

Omni coughed. "Okay, hold up. Who are you, and what have you done with Raven ’Protagonist Morals’ Vaise?"

Raven blinked, then shook his head, horrified. "Shit. I’m starting to think like Siris."

Somewhere in the stands, Siris sneezed violently and instinctively began sharpening a dagger.

Raven sighed again and looked at Graye properly this time.

This guy wasn’t evil.

He wasn’t arrogant.

He was just... honest. Painfully honest.

He was the kind of guy who looked both ways before charging into a one-way duel. He meant everything he said.

That made him dangerous—but predictable.

Above all, Raven knew that this guy wasn’t related to demons. If there were angels, then he could be related to them, but not the demons.

’He’s just straightforward,’ Raven thought.

But then, it clicked.

His eyes narrowed.

’Wait. Omni said the tale Graye was under had a condition—that the fight must be fair. That’s what gave him that ridiculous stat boost.’

If that’s the case...

’Then if I make the fight unfair, Graye will lose his buff?’

"Yes," Omni said immediately, reading his thoughts. "But the crowd will call you a cheater, and you know what that means, my guy."

Raven nodded grimly.

He was a Vaise.

A future patriarch candidate.

A dirty win wouldn’t just stain his name—it’d stain the entire family. Crisaius would burst in midair like a firework if that happened.

So, no fake-outs.

No underhanded tricks.

’Fine,’ he muttered. ’Let’s use the one thing no one knows I have.’

His trump card.

His soul technique.

The cheat that made everything else look like a party trick.

Raven’s fists clenched. His aura withdrew, quiet and precise.

’If I go for a punch, making it look like I’m doing a physical attack, but attack the guy with soul shock, then it would be an unfair tactic, right?’ Raven asked Omni.

"As unfair as it could be, my man," replied Omni.

Nodding inwardly, Raven slowly lifted his head and met Graye’s glowing red eyes.

"Alright," he said calmly. "Here I come."

Graye brightened. "Yes! Show me your warrior spirit!"

Raven didn’t answer.

He took one slow step forward—and then he moved.

BOOM!

A sonic boom echoed through the stadium as Raven moved at breakneck speed, his punch ready to smash into Graye.

The berserker was raising his sword to defend, but he was a step too late. His layer-six speed couldn’t keep up with Raven, who was using dragon scales to boost his speed.

Then—

BAM!!

The punch landed.

Things didn’t end there, as the soul attack followed.

Fwoosh!

It was an unexpected attack.

A sudden, strong shock to the soul.

With his eyes wide, Graye fell back with a thud.

Clang!

His sword fell to the ground beside him, and the audience turned silent.

’What just happened?’ That was the only question in their heads.

’They’re all confused,’ Raven thought as he saw the audience. ’They didn’t see anything flashy. No explosion. No flaming sword. Just one punch.’

He casually took a step back, wiped his hand on his pants, and then, just loud enough for the crowd to hear—

"...This is why I wasn’t attacking before. One hit from me is all it takes."

A gasp rolled through the audience like a tidal wave of drama.

Voices began to rise in awed murmurs.

"Did you hear that?"

"He was holding back this whole time?!"

"Just one punch?!"

"Is this guy the reincarnation of the God of Fists?"

"Forget that—did you see his coat ripple? That’s protagonist energy!"

Somewhere, a painter began sketching the scene of Raven’s one-punch stance.

Raven folded his arms and sighed theatrically, like a tired teacher who’d just schooled an unruly child.

Jessy, in the stands, pinched the bridge of her nose, torn between pride and secondhand embarrassment.

Rufus blinked. "I think he’s trying to sell the ’cool and mysterious’ angle again."

Siris tilted her head. "He looked like he was genuinely considering murder earlier. That’s hot."

But then—

Twitch.

Graye’s finger moved.

Raven froze.

’...Huh?’

Then—

Twitch-twitch.

Graye’s arms shifted.

His body jerked like a puppet yanked by confused strings.

Raven took a cautious step back. ’Wait a second. No. No-no-no—’

Then came Omni’s voice.

It didn’t boom. It didn’t snark. It whispered.

"...Yo."

Raven flinched. ’Omni. Why do you sound like someone just found a body in a horror movie?’

"Uh... so, small thing. Tiny detail. Little lore nugget I just cracked."

Raven’s eye twitched. ’What. Did. You. Find?’

Omni cleared his throat, and Raven swore he heard a page flip in the background.

"So, turns out Graye has another tale."

Raven’s soul began drafting a resignation letter from life.

"I was deciphering it during the fight, but I couldn’t pin it down until just now. Took a while cause this one’s obscure and super conditional."

Graye, on the other hand, groaned, pushing himself up to a seated position like an anime rival surviving a beam cannon.

"Your punch..." he gasped, blinking stars out of his eyes. "It... it was soul-shaking. I genuinely thought I was about to pass into the afterlife and see my grandma. That was awesome."

Raven almost screamed internally.

’Omni,’ he hissed, ’what’s the tale?’

The tattoo on his arm pulsed again as Omni sighed.

"Alright. Brace yourself. It’s called ’The Last Bastion of Armor.’ Tale condition is simple. As long as he wears a full set of armor..."

Raven’s eyes widened.

"...he’s immune to any attack that isn’t physical."

There was silence in his brain.

Raven blinked once.

Twice.

Then his soul dropped to his knees, hands on the ground, as a shadow passed over his soul.

"...So you’re telling me..."

"Yep."

"...I punched this guy in the soul. Wasted all that power. Risked giving the guy a boost, which now he has—"

"All true."

"—and he tanked it because he’s cosplaying as a tin can?!"

"Technically, yes," Omni muttered.

From the arena floor, Graye stood shakily. His armor was dented. His face was bruised.

But his spirit? Oh, his spirit burned like a motivational poster.

"That attack was incredible!" He declared, fist over heart. "But sadly, it wasn’t physical enough!"

Raven looked up slowly, his eyes dull.

"...It wasn’t physical enough."

There was a silence.

Not the kind of dramatic, tension-building hush before an applause.

No, this one felt like the universe itself had just heard something so stupid that even time paused to process it.

Raven stared at Graye. No. At this tin can of chivalry who had just declared, in all earnestness, that Raven’s earth-shattering, soul-crushing attack "wasn’t physical enough."

His eye twitched.

"...Wasn’t physical enough, huh?" Raven muttered, staring down at his own fist like it had betrayed him.

Graye blinked, suddenly sensing something odd. A shift in the wind. A chill in the air. A sudden drop in his will to live.

"Um... are you alright?" He asked cautiously.

Raven looked up.

He was not alright.

His sanity had packed a bag and left town.

"FUCK HOLDING BACK!" Raven roared, his aura exploding outward like a nuke of barely restrained rage and humiliation.

"Oh no," Jessy murmured, slowly hiding her jerky behind her back. "He’s doing that thing again."

They had only seen him get in this form when he fought Crisaius

Although Crisaius still toys with Raven, the tin can before Raven wasn’t Crisaius.

Clara, looking at all this, sighed. "That berserker shouldn’t have pushed him that far."

Even Selena and Lia let out long sighs.

From beneath the arena bench, a group of squirrels threw on tiny protective goggles and dove behind cover. Even a small one chittered, "We’re gonna need a bigger acorn..."

Meanwhile, Raven blurred into motion.

First, he used Jake’s Quick Sword Technique, his body kicking into overclock mode as he vanished from view.

Boom-boom-boom!

Each step shattered the stone beneath him.

Then came Clara’s Thousand Sword Mirage, multiplying his figure into three identical Ravenses—all of whom looked pissed off and extremely done with life.

Graye, now somehow a layer-seven knight thanks to stacking multiple Tales like some sort of holy RPG protagonist, instinctively raised his sword—

Too late.

Raven was already there, slamming into him with Rufus’s Form-Breaking Swordsmanship—a technique that didn’t just attack the body but shattered the very stance of a warrior.

Graye stumbled.

The ground trembled.

Then, with a flash, Raven was on top of him, pinning the knight to the arena floor with the wrath of every straight man who’s accidentally flirted with a disguised girl in anime.

"WASN’T PHYSICAL ENOUGH, HUH?!" Raven yelled, each word punctuated by a fresh surge of mana.

Graye groaned, dizzy and dazed. "Ugh—your...your fighting spirit is—amazing..."

"Shut up!" Raven snarled.

He reached for Graye’s helmet.

"Let’s see how physical I get when you’re not wearing this bucket—!"

With one smooth pull—

Clang!

The helmet came off.

But Raven’s eyes widened, his voice stuck in his throat.

Because underneath wasn’t a battle-hardened war veteran or a rugged-faced knight.

It was a girl.

No, not just a girl.

A divinely beautiful girl. Celestial-tier.

Her purple hair spilled out like velvet, framing delicate features sculpted by the gods during their lunch break. Her expression, soft and noble, looked straight at Raven with expectation.

It was as if she was expecting him to punch her.

Even Omni whistled in his head.

"Damn, bro. That’s a fine piece of mythology right there."

Raven froze. The arena went still again. Clara and Selena narrowed their eyes. Siris looked ready to commit homicide.

The light in the eyes of the girl, Graye, however, dimmed as she saw Raven pause.

’He’s the same, huh?’ She thought.

But Raven’s pause?

Lasted exactly one second.

"...Nope. Still pissed," he growled.

Then he began to punch.

Not recklessly. Not out of control.

Each punch was deliberate—and came paired with a soul attack.

’He—She’s a layer-seven now,’ Raven thought, fists flying. ’One attack won’t cut it.’

So he layered his punches with shockwaves to the soul, slipping them in where the audience couldn’t see.

Because she wasn’t wearing her helmet anymore, and because this tactic wasn’t fair, his attacks were working.

Her Tale’s boost began to fade.

The girl—who Raven now realized was the real Graye—held on for a few seconds longer, eyes fierce, her face filled with a rosy blush?

Raven didn’t know what it was.

Maybe it was blood.

But she only lasted for around ten seconds.

One by one, her stat buffs flickered out like dying torches.

Until finally—

Thud.

She slumped backward, unconscious.

Raven stood above her, breathing hard; his vision was blurry with rage and adrenaline and just a hint of, ’What the hell is my life?’

Then—

He looked down.

At her face.

Her bloodied, unconscious, too-pretty-to-be-in-this-mess face.

Raven’s soul hit the brakes.

"Oh, shit."

His sanity, which had briefly stepped outside for some air, kicked down the door and smacked him in the head.

"I just beat up a literal angel-looking girl."

’Internal panic level: apocalypse.’

He staggered back, horrified.

Before the announcer could even lift his mic, Raven shouted—voice shaking, "LIA! GET DOWN HERE! HEAL HER, NOW!"

From the stands, Princess Lia blinked and stood up, tripping slightly over her dress as she rushed down.

The match ended, but Raven felt like he had marked the start of something else.

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