Unholy Player-Chapter 82: Frighten the Unknown

Even though Adyr had jumped back to absorb most of the impact, the pain in his chest still pulsed sharply and clearly. Aqualith didn’t rely on raw muscle strength, but when mass and movement aligned, the result was force. Simple physics.

That alone made it stronger than the wolf he had fought before, even without relying on the Sense Dull debuff.

But Adyr wasn’t the same either. He had grown. His boosted [Physique] played a part, but what truly mattered was the [Resilience] he had recently prioritized. It gave his body the durability to endure blows like this without breaking.

He wiped the blood from his lips and stepped forward with calm, steady movements.

This time, he slid the blade in his right hand back into the sheath across his back. His fingers moved over the row of throwing knives at his waist. Then he lowered his center of gravity, angled the blade in his left hand forward, and launched himself ahead with precise, controlled force.

Aqualith didn’t hesitate either. It surged toward him, even faster than before, leaving behind a trail of water bubbles and faint rainbow distortions in the air.

The Spark might have had the speed advantage, but Adyr had gear. Just before the clash, he snatched two knives from his belt and threw them at Aqualith, forcing it to dodge. That single action was enough to disrupt its acceleration.

He used the creature’s size against it, stepped in with perfect timing, and drove a powerful kick into its midsection. The strike landed clean. Too big to miss. Too close to defend.

Boom!

Aqualith’s body flew. It crashed into a tree at full speed, shattered the trunk, and came to a grinding stop in a spray of debris.

Its body looked massive, but it wasn’t as heavy as it appeared. By Adyr’s estimate, it weighed no more than a quarter ton. Its skin was also more elastic than expected, which made it oddly well-suited for being kicked like a ball.

"We’re even now," Adyr said with a grin, as if the fight had turned into some kind of throwing match.

Vesha, Siris, and the other knights watched in silence, eyes wide. It was hard to track the movements, but from their distance, it felt like witnessing a violent game—except this time, the players were also the projectiles.

Each collision shattered trees, split stone, and tore through what little structure remained. Yet after every impact, both figures stood up again. No hesitation. No sign of pain. It was like watching two titans in a game only they understood, one that defied every law the onlookers thought they knew.

Aqualith rose once more and hurled itself toward Adyr, still eager to continue.

But Adyr had grown tired of the game.

He moved too, mirroring the charge. He threw another set of knives to slow the Spark, but this time he added smoke bombs between them. The moment they exploded, he pulled back, avoiding direct contact.

The Spark, thrown off by the sudden shift, attacked harder, wildly, and furiously. But Adyr didn’t respond. He dodged every strike, baiting it, drawing out the pursuit, letting the smoke grow thicker until the entire battlefield vanished into gray.

Just as he intended.

This was one of the advantages of having four stats. Unlike Aqualith, Adyr possessed [Sense].

Drawing his second blade, he returned to a dual-wield stance and slipped into the fog. He adjusted his movements in small, silent steps, using his sharpened senses like a second set of eyes. Aqualith couldn’t see him. Couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t find him.

Then, at the perfect moment, Adyr struck.

One clean slash.

A second later, the sound of liquid spilling hit the ground and spread into the silence.

He didn’t need to wonder what it was. He had heard that sound his whole life. No matter the creature, blood always spoke the same language.

Though blind in the fog, Aqualith tried to track him using its affinity with motion. But reading the movements of someone like Adyr—a hunter by nature, a killer by experience—was a different matter.

A second cut opened across its body. More blood spilled.

And with it, something strange rose within the Spark.

Fear.

In a primal response, the creature made a snap decision to run. It dashed through the fog, trying to escape. But in its path waited another blade.

For the first time, Aqualith tasted fear. Not pain, not confusion—true fear. It was being carved apart by a predator it couldn’t see, couldn’t predict, and couldn’t counter. With each strike, it lost more strength. With every misstep, it lost more of its sense of direction.

Whenever it turned to run, another blade punished the attempt. It was being herded, broken down, made to feel small.

"You know what?"

Adyr’s voice echoed from within the smoke, cold and detached, like something ancient lurking just beyond sight. A slash followed his words.

Another whisper came, closer now, followed by the wet sound of flesh splitting. "This might be just my domain."

A perfect place for a killer to instill fear. Even in a Spark, born from the secrets of the universe.

The unknown, for the first time, tasted the fear of the unknown.

The battle had shifted long ago. What began as a show of strength had become a test of mind and perseverance.

And it was clear who was winning—by a crushing margin.

Within minutes, the Spark began to visibly slow. Its movements grew uncertain, hesitation seeping into every step.

As the weight of each cut deepened, it lost the will to keep going. And eventually, it gave in.

Its massive frame collapsed, surrendering all desire to fight.

Seeing this, Adyr slid his blades back onto his back and came to a stop. He had never intended to kill it. This was enough.

He placed a hand on his chest, bowed slightly like a gentleman, and whispered with a grin. "And the winner salutes the audience." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

It was a thrill he hadn’t found even in his previous life.

And he liked it.