Read Novel Full Chapter 584: Trial by Combat 6
Chapter 584: Trial by Combat 6
Khan’s cultivation erupted to its absolute peak.
The violent storm surrounding him expanded across the arena, tearing loose fragments of stone from the battlefield. Razor-sharp currents of wind circled his body like countless invisible blades, shredding everything they touched.
His robes whipped wildly around him.
Blood still trickled from the corner of his mouth.
His swollen face had become almost unrecognizable.
Yet his eyes burned with desperate determination.
He knew exactly what awaited him if he lost.
Death.
There would be no mercy.
There would be no second chance.
With a furious roar, Khan thrust both hands forward.
The entire storm answered his command.
The swirling winds compressed into an enormous spear of pure wind Qi.
It shrieked as it tore through the air, the pressure alone cracking the arena floor beneath it.
Many spectators instinctively held their breath.
The attack looked devastating.
Lucas didn’t move.
He watched the attack approach with the same calm expression he had worn since the battle began.
Then, at the last possible moment—
He stepped aside.
The enormous spear missed him by inches.
It continued across the battlefield before crashing into the arena’s protective barrier.
BOOM!
The entire arena trembled.
The barrier rippled violently under the impact, drawing gasps from the audience.
Khan didn’t stop.
He unleashed another attack.
Then another.
Then another.
Massive blades of compressed wind crossed the battlefield one after another.
Lucas walked through them.
Not hurriedly.
Not frantically.
Simply walking.
Each attack missed by the narrowest of margins.
One sliced past his shoulder.
Another grazed the sleeve of his robe without touching his skin.
A third carved a deep trench where he had stood a heartbeat earlier.
The spectators watched in disbelief.
It was as though Lucas could see every attack before it was launched.
Khan’s breathing became ragged.
His frustration grew with every failed strike.
Finally, Lucas spoke.
His voice was calm enough to carry across the arena.
“Are you done?”
Khan’s face twisted with fury.
“You insolent—!”
He lunged forward.
Lucas vanished.
BOOM!
A sonic boom echoed through the arena.
Before Khan could react, Lucas appeared at his side.
A fist wrapped in blazing fire crashed into his ribs.
CRACK!
The sound of breaking bones echoed clearly.
Khan was launched sideways.
He hadn’t even hit the ground before Lucas appeared again.
A spinning kick slammed into his back.
BOOM!
The impact drove him face-first into the arena floor.
Stone exploded in every direction.
The crowd erupted.
Lucas gave Khan no time to recover.
He grabbed the prince by the collar and yanked him out of the crater as though he weighed nothing.
Khan tried to swing a desperate punch.
Lucas caught the fist effortlessly.
He squeezed.
CRACK!
A sickening sound rang through the arena.
Khan cried out as the bones in his hand fractured.
Lucas released him only to drive a flaming elbow into his jaw.
BOOM!
More blood sprayed through the air.
Several more broken teeth scattered across the battlefield.
The former prince spun helplessly before another kick struck his abdomen.
The force folded his body in half.
He crashed across the arena, bouncing repeatedly over the shattered stone.
The spectators were on their feet.
Every strike drew louder cheers.
“That’s for Lechia!”
“Don’t let him breathe!”
“Finish the traitor!”
Khan staggered upright once more.
His entire body shook.
One eye had nearly swollen shut.
His breathing came in ragged gasps.
His robes were torn and scorched.
He looked nothing like the proud prince who had entered the arena.
Lucas slowly walked toward him.
Each step echoed across the battlefield.
There was no rush.
No panic.
Only absolute control.
Khan roared in desperation and unleashed another storm of wind blades.
Lucas didn’t even bother dodging most of them.
He shattered the first blade with a punch wrapped in fire.
The second dispersed beneath a casual backhand.
The third exploded apart when he kicked through it.
Before the remaining attacks could reach him, he had already closed the distance.
His fist buried itself in Khan’s stomach.
The prince’s eyes bulged.
He coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Lucas followed with a knee to the chest.
Then a straight punch to the face.
Then another.
Then another.
Each impact echoed like a drumbeat throughout the arena.
Khan tried to defend.
His arms came up instinctively.
Lucas broke through his guard every time.
He tried to retreat.
Lucas stayed in front of him.
He tried to counterattack.
Every attempt was interrupted before it could even begin.
The duel had become completely one-sided.
King Highmoor watched with folded arms.
“He’s completely overwhelmed him.”
The Emperor of Rus nodded once.
“Khan can no longer dictate the pace.”
The King of Blackmare observed quietly.
“Xavier isn’t simply stronger.”
His eyes remained fixed on the battlefield.
“He’s dismantling him.”
The Empress watched in silence.
She neither celebrated nor smiled.
She simply witnessed justice unfolding.
Back on the battlefield, Khan stumbled again.
His legs trembled so badly that he nearly collapsed.
Blood dripped steadily onto the broken stone beneath him.
Lucas stood a few paces away.
Untouched.
His robes bore only dust from the shattered arena.
Not a single wound marked his body.
The contrast between the two fighters was impossible to ignore.
One looked as though he had just entered the arena.
The other looked as though he had survived a massacre.
The crowd sensed it.
So did Khan.
For the first time since the duel had begun, the former prince realized a terrifying truth.
Lucas had never needed to fight at full strength.
He had simply chosen when to take control.
And from the moment he did…
Khan had never been given another chance.
The Grand Arena had become a sea of emotion.
Every section of the stands was alive.
People were no longer merely watching the duel.
They were living it.
Each devastating blow Lucas landed sent waves of excitement through the crowd, and every time Khan was knocked to the ground, the cheers grew louder than before.
The arena floor itself had become a testament to the brutality of the battle.
Deep craters covered the once-pristine stone.
Long trenches carved by wind techniques stretched from one end of the battlefield to the other.
Scorch marks from Lucas’s flames blackened the ground, and fragments of shattered rock lay scattered everywhere.
At the center of it all stood Lucas.
Calm.
Steady.
Unyielding.
A short distance away, Khan struggled to remain on his feet.
Blood dripped steadily from his battered face.
His breathing was ragged.
His robes hung in tatters.
His body trembled from exhaustion and injury.
The proud prince who had once walked into the arena with a smug smile was nowhere to be seen.
The spectators noticed it too.
And they reveled in it.
A soldier near the front of the stands leapt to his feet and thrust his fist into the air.
“Finish him, Xavier !”
His cry spread like wildfire.
Another voice joined in.
“End the traitor!”
Then another.
And another.
Within moments, thousands had risen from their seats.
The chant rolled across the arena like thunder.
“FINISH HIM!”
“FINISH HIM!”
“FINISH HIM!”
The sound shook the very walls of the Grand Arena.
It wasn’t confined to one section.
The nobles joined in.
The soldiers joined in.
The commoners joined in.
Even visitors from allied kingdoms found themselves swept up in the overwhelming tide of emotion.
The chant became deafening.
“FINISH HIM!”
“FINISH HIM!”
“FINISH HIM!”
High above the battlefield, King Alden Highmoor looked over the sea of people and gave a faint smile.
“They’ve already delivered their verdict.”
The Emperor of Rus nodded.
“The people no longer see a prince.”
“They see only a traitor.”
The King of Blackmare remained silent, watching Lucas with quiet admiration.
The Empress said nothing.
She simply listened to the voices of her people.
The same people her son had betrayed.
The same people who now demanded justice.
Down on the battlefield, Khan heard every word.
Every chant.
Every insult.
Every cry for his death.
His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
His breathing became heavier.
His vision blurred.
Humiliation burned hotter than any of Lucas’s flames.
He had once been adored by these people.
Children had looked up to him.
Citizens had cheered his name.
Now those same voices demanded his execution.
The realization cut deeper than any punch.
Across from him, Lucas stood quietly, his expression composed as the chants echoed all around him.
He neither encouraged the crowd nor acknowledged their cries.
His attention remained fixed on Khan alone.
The battle wasn’t over yet.
But the arena had already chosen its champion.
The chant continued, growing louder with every passing second.
“FINISH HIM!”
“FINISH HIM!”
“FINISH HIM!”
The words rolled through the arena in perfect unison, a single voice born from hundreds of thousands of people.
It sounded less like a crowd and more like the judgment of an entire nation.
And standing in the middle of the arena, battered, bloodied, and barely able to stand, Khan realized there was not a single soul left in Lechia hoping for his victory.