Modern Weapons Cheat in Fantasy World-Chapter 29: The Brief Duel

"Do you really want to do this?" Marcus asked, raising his arms for a fighting stance.

"Yes, I do. I want to see it for myself," Bren said, raising his hands higher, stance settling into place. His feet dug slightly into the dirt as he adjusted his balance, weight forward, ready to close the distance.

"Start already..."

"Don’t blink."

"He’s about to get crushed."

Darius folded his arms but didn’t step in again. Lira stood beside him, eyes fixed on Marcus. Joren shifted his footing slightly, attention sharp.

Bren took the first step and then suddenly, with a burst of speed, instantly closed the distance.

Marcus was caught off guard from it. Like how possible could a human do that?

Before he could think of it, Marcus found himself pinned to the ground.

Argh...

Argh...

The air left his lungs on impact.

Marcus hit the ground hard, his back slamming against packed dirt as Bren’s weight drove into him. The force wasn’t just from the tackle—it carried through, like the momentum hadn’t stopped at contact.

Bren’s forearm pressed across his chest, pinning him down.

"Got you," Bren said.

Marcus clenched his jaw and shifted, trying to push against him.

It didn’t move.

Not even an inch.

That was the first thing that registered.

His hands pressed against Bren’s arm, testing the resistance. It wasn’t just muscle. There was weight behind it, pressure that felt denser than it should be.

Marcus narrowed his eyes.

A D-rank shouldn’t hit like that.

He twisted his body slightly, trying to create space under him, but Bren adjusted instantly, shifting his weight to keep him pinned.

"Thought you’d be faster," Bren said.

Marcus didn’t answer.

Instead, he drove his knee upward, aiming for space between them.

Bren reacted just in time, shifting his stance, but the movement forced him to lift slightly.

That was enough.

Marcus turned his hips and pushed off the ground, slipping out from under the pressure and rolling to the side.

He got back to his feet immediately.

Bren didn’t rush him.

He stood up straight, dust rolling off his armor as he reset his stance.

The crowd had gone quiet again.

"...Did you see that?"

"He just slammed him." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"Is that really the adventurer that destroyed the wyvern’s nest?"

"How could a B-rank adventurer be bested by a D-rank?"

"See, the people around here are doubting your abilities," Bren said. "I thought you’d be stronger. I was so wrong."

"Well, that is because fist is not my strongest weapon," Marcus said.

"Oh, I see...I did hear that you are a magician that cast a magic arrow on a wyvern and exploded mid-air. Well, we can’t have that damage around here. Don’t you have any skills that you can show to me? Of course, if you wield yours, I’ll wield mine," Bren said, showing off his two-handed axe.

Marcus knew if he wants to fight this duel, he’ll have to show them a freedom weapon. But it would kill him. Well, there might be healers on standby so he’ll avoid shooting his vitals.

With it, Marcus revealed his M4 Carbine, materializing in his arms.

"What’s that?" Bren asked.

"My weakest weapon," Marcus simply answered, bringing the rifle up and settling the stock into his shoulder.

His right hand wrapped the grip, finger resting along the trigger guard. Left hand locked the handguard, stabilizing the barrel. The muzzle pointed straight at Bren’s center mass.

The crowd reacted immediately.

"What is that?"

"Is that a staff?"

"No... it’s too short..."

Lira’s eyes narrowed, watching the way Marcus held it.

"That’s not a staff," she muttered.

Bren looked at it once, then let out a short breath through his nose.

"...A crossbow?" he said.

Marcus didn’t answer.

Bren shifted his stance slightly, rolling his shoulders again, grip tightening on his axe.

"You’re going to use that?" he asked.

"Yes."

Bren smirked.

"Then do it," he said. "Let’s see if you can hit me."

He lowered his stance, weight forward again.

Ready to move.

The confidence was clear.

To him, it was just a projectile weapon.

Something he could dodge, outrun, or outreact.

Bren moved first.

A burst.

Same as before.

Faster than a normal person should be.

He angled to the side this time, not charging straight in, trying to break the line of aim before closing distance.

Marcus tracked him.

Then Marcus pulled the trigger.

The crack split the air.

Bren didn’t even see it.

One moment he was moving—the next his body jerked mid-step.

His leg gave out instantly.

He dropped hard onto one knee, momentum breaking as his axe slipped from his grip and hit the ground beside him.

Silence.

The entire space froze.

Bren looked down and saw blood.

A clean hole through his thigh, just above the knee.

"...What—"

He hadn’t reacted.

He couldn’t.

There was no time between the sound and the hit.

Marcus kept the rifle trained on him.

"What just happened..." Bren muttered.

His grip tightened over the wound as he tried to steady himself, but the pressure only slowed the bleeding.

"You moved first," Marcus said. "I just responded."

Bren let out a short breath, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it.

"That’s not... normal," he muttered.

He shifted his weight slightly, testing his leg, but the moment he tried to push up, it gave again. He caught himself with one hand against the ground, stopping himself from falling forward.

Around them, the silence held.

No one stepped in yet.

No one spoke.

Even the ones who had been cheering earlier stayed quiet now, watching the gap between them like something had changed that they didn’t fully understand.

Darius moved first.

"That’s enough," he said.

Lira followed right behind him, already reaching into her pouch.

"We need to stop the bleeding," she said.

Joren stayed at the edge, still watching Marcus.

Not with doubt anymore, but with caution.

"No, I can handle this!" Bren grunted.

"No you don’t. Don’t force yourself over useless things. Acknowledge that he won this duel."

Bren’s hand tightened harder around the wound, his jaw set as he tried to push himself up again. His leg failed him halfway, forcing him back down onto one knee.

"I’m not done," he said, voice low, forcing it out.

Darius didn’t move from where he stood.

"You are," he replied. "You can’t even stand."

Bren didn’t answer immediately. He kept his eyes on the ground for a second, then lifted his head and looked at Marcus again.

Bren exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

"...Tch."

His grip loosened slightly from the wound.

"Fine," he said.