Transcending Realms With My Leveling System As A Demon-Chapter 87: The Man Who Defied Fate 1

Who stood before them was none other than the same man whom everyone thought would be stopped. Amongst the entire realm, a man, who had been deceived and utterly stabbed by a Spirit, was rolling in a wheelchair, just in front of the top five who stood before him.

To say he was in a weakened state was an understatement. Ivy couldn’t bring two and two together. She was the one given the respected position to tend to his wounds, yet, since it was done by a Spirit, for some reason, she couldn’t.

This was when the light factor had been introduced. Demons cannot defend themselves, nor heal themselves, when coming in contact with a weapon embedded with some light. Back then, when Zylus had done it, it was a surprise to all. And that’s when one man brought a theory that hadn’t washed away within Zylus’s head since the beginning of all.

He wasn’t hostile, nor did he present himself as miraculous. But one thing was clear: he was a man who wouldn’t falter even under the worst circumstances that had flown up on him.

"You’re his little brother," Chris stepped forward, "aren’t ya?"

The individual laughed in his wheelchair, right in front of them, clearly blocking their view of the path ahead. They were separated by a five-meter distance, not too far, but just enough to hear each other’s voices without screaming.

"Ahahah," the individual who sat in the wheelchair, leaning on the backrest, sneered. "You mean Kash."

All of them then suddenly received an uneasy feeling, one that demanded an answer.

"This guy’s the same man who got stabbed by a weapon embedded with some type of light-energy?" Reynold wondered.

"Yeah," Sebastian added, "But for me, he’s known for having the best statistics of a Cadet in recent years."

"Okay?" Moovrin questioned vulgarly, "What of it? He’s Kash’s brother, that’s plaudable."

"Wait," Rasper paused, as he watched this man get up from his wheelchair, clearly unbalanced. "Should I take him out, Chris?"

"Don’t," Ivy stopped them from committing any further reckless actions, "I need to know what happened to you." Her glare gazed at the man who finally found balance from standing, his gaze right at the moon, the light reflected into his soul.

"One woman’s wish is another man’s failure," he responded, "have you ever heard of that?" His voice carried a soft but elegant flow, one that was admirably confident.

Chris stared him down, "State your name, and your reasoning for being here."

Time was going down, and at this point, Chris needed to be back at his castle, committing to paperwork and contributing to the economic growth of the Demon Realm. Being the king was more than just a title; it provided proof of dedication and upgrade.

"My name shouldn’t hold any importance," he said, "what should is the body that both of you are carrying right now, you’re lifting the same man who has more potential than any of you, than any of you ever could have." Even while talking about another man, his own arrogance reached a new max.

Upon his saying this statement, one of the top five got extremely pissed; he felt discouraged, or rather, disrespected, by a nobody. They didn’t understand why their auras didn’t pierce fear into his eyes.

Reynolds, the sixth rank, had become extremely pissed, his gaze averted from the man who stood from a wheelchair into the sky; he wanted to knock him out.

"Chris, I’m not going to follow your orders today; we don’t have time." Reynolds proclaimed, each of them watched him zoom past them.

Chris, or any of the other four, could’ve easily stopped him, but they chose not to, or rather, it was too unexpected that their muscles didn’t move.

Bam!

As he zoomed in, the man who stood silently from a wheelchair watched him, as if time was slowed for the hospital patient. And as Reynolds was about to hit an upper cut towards his opponent, he paused.

Reynolds paused in one position, one that stood one inch, maybe even less, away from his opponent, or his self-proclaimed opponent.

"Tell me," the patient sneered, "why didn’t you move just now?" Reynolds asked, his gaze serious; he carried a hostile scent.

"Because I knew you wouldn’t," he responded, not wavering but simply staring pitifully down at a fifth rank, "I, Zenos Mezino, am not one who ever wavered, and will not, because I fight for enjoyment, not for rank." As Zenos spoke these words, a harmless tingle fell through Reynold’s skin. He backed off, walking back towards the others.

"Why’d you stop? What’s wrong with you?" Sebastian asked worryingly.

"Calm down," Reynolds gazed right back at Zenos, "let him speak, that’s the most we can do."

Rasper’s anger lifted, "If you’re too pussy to do it, I’ll do it myself-"

And just then, for the first time, Reynold unsheathed his metal great-sword against one of his comrades, and this made Rasper grin.

"Did you forget...?" Rasper asked, looking at the metal sword that swung just in front of him, "You’re one rank below me."

Reynold didn’t once open his glare, "You fight him, you fight me, let him go." 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Everyone watched, including Zenos, who now slightly lost his balance; his legs slowly but surely gave up on him, which wasn’t a surprise at all.

"Are you serious-?!"

"He’s right," Chris’s decision has been made, "We’ll see what he wants, that’s the least we can do."

Rasper slammed his Demonic Mace into the ground, the floor creaking slightly.

"Fuck this shit," he wasn’t having any of it, "We just watched our comrade die, and you guys want to act so fucking calm, you idiots!"

"You realize," Rasper snapped back, "Mordain also did so many things terribly..."

Everyone’s breath paused as Rasper decided to be as bold as he could.

"In the end," he was prepared to tell the truth, "Mordain was a horrible person-"

Bam!

In this moment, Zenos fell back onto his wheelchair, slightly exhausted by the amount of force he used to stand.