A Gorgeous White

Chapter 318: I Challenge You (2)

Anticipation burned like a flame trapped in an old lamp, tucked within the glass, safe from wind and rain. It was flickering faintly, but it was there. Bordering the empty middle of the halls, the sea of people stood at the sides near the walls. Eyes strained on the even before them. The air reeked of tension. It smelt of blood, agony, and impatience. One could find it hard to breathe, surrounded by enemies and comrades, surrounded with blood-stained weapons and claws. Although none of the sides were fighting, it felt as if their souls were painting the ground red.

Silver eyes drew away from the unsettled crowd and focused on the lone man standing amidst the hostile and uncertain gazes, unperturbed of the attention. Moulin could hear the deafening pounding within his chest. What would be the outcome of this fight? Lives we're already lost. They could not risk more losses.

A growl sounded within Accrius's throat. He took a step back as if bracing himself. Hands clenched, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, they became more prominent, glowing with the signs of transformation. He lunged forward. Amidst this action, the bones within his skin snapped and shifted. Fur grew, and his muscles expanded. At the same time, a burst of mana spreads outwards, drowning the air.

Four massive limbs balanced one heavy body. Claws extended and dug into the once smooth marbled floor. And then, a tremendous roar, pitiless and unrelenting, sank into the ears of every living person within the area.

Moulin's gaped. His eyes absorbed the sight of a massive white beast. A thick pale golden mane surrounded its formidable neck. Its irises were like a pair of rich golden orbs, and its frightful jaws opened as it bellowed. What was even more admirable was the pair of pure white wings on its back, more significant than the beast's size. The wings bore an elegance as well as danger. From sight alone, its strength looked as if it could break a man with a single beat of its wings.

Although the white lion was only half the size of the Dark Lion, it wasn't less intimidating. From his expression alone, the ferocity clouded his whole being. This fight would not end until one of them took their last breath.

Mocking flashed in the Dark Lion's eyes. It looked down on its sibling as if seeing a worm wriggling underneath his paws. Accrius faced him, met his ruthless gaze without fear... as if this was how it should have been in the beginning.

Moulin didn't divert his attention elsewhere.

A snap sounded, clear and loud, as if it was a few centimeters beside his ear. Moulin flinched.

The Dark Lion roared, eyes flashed ruthlessly. It opened its jaws, and a burst of red flames surged towards the smaller beast in the distance. As it released its flames, it moved forward.

Accrius's wings stretched outwards, drawing back and flapping, creating powerful gusts. He's lifted from the ground, reeling his head back before directing the wind to meet the wrath of the fire. Fused with a significant amount of mana, the wind was quick to extinguish the flames. However, the fire was endless unless its maker stopped it.

Unable to counter the flames any longer, the white beast resorted to dodging the crimson fire, letting it strike the walls past him. Angered and irritated, the Dark Lion shut his jaws and began to chase the flying beast with a storm of fire attacks.

A stray fire burst suddenly swerved towards a group of injured maeruthans. The men abruptly diverted their attention from the fight to the flames headed for them. They struggled to avoid the fire. However, before it could reach them, a blast of cold air hit their faces. They raised their gazes and spotted a white-haired maeruthan lowering his hand.

Moulin looked at them briefly before his focus shifted to the duel before him once again.

Drowning in irritation, the Dark Lion's claws pounded the ground. The walls and ceilings shook against the force. It took only a few steps for the giant beast to reach the white lion gliding within the air. Lifting his forelimbs, the orcan Lord's jaws opened wide. Massive teeth were exposed in the air. When the white lion flew within the jaw's path, the teeth abruptly clamped shut like a triggered bear trap. Accrius barely avoided bite.

As the beast brought his claws down, Accrius swooped down. Claws brandished, he roared and slammed his weight against the side of the Dark Lion's nose. He clawed the exposed flesh on its burnt face, and blood sprayed the air. The dark lion lets out a pained bellow before retreating, shaking off the blood that splashed its eye.

Accrius was fast and agile, but he couldn't defeat the Lion while trapped within these walls. As Moulin analyzed the battle, his eyes drifted to what once was a flawless dais. Standing on the rubble was a green-eyed man, Quade. Silver eyes narrowed sharply. A suspicious feeling crept inside Moulin's chest. The man's expression was cold, and his mouth was endlessly muttering something. Quade's eyes were focused on the match, and a smirk suddenly graced his lips.

His eyes turned to Moulin.

Moulin could no longer ignore him. His gut was telling him to stop the man at once. If he was trying to disrupt the match, then he should be stopped at once.

The youth turned to Hadrian. But before he could speak, the man beat him into it.

"You need me to bring you to him." Hadrian's eyes were dark.

Moulin nodded.

For a few seconds, Hadrian stared at him before pulling him close. A flash of white filled Moulin's vision, and in the next instant, he was already a few meters away from Quade. Quade's eyebrows lifted, and amusement filled his eyes. However, his mouth didn't stop muttering the chant.

From afar, the two enormous beasts were battling face-to-face. Claws and jaws out and ready. Their roars continued to fill the air, echoing throughout the halls.

Hadrian stretched out his hand languidly and struck a bolt of electricity at the man. Quade lets out an agonized cry feeling as if his entire body was being ripped into shreds from the inside. His knees became weak, but before his back could meet the ground, a hand grabbed his throat, strangling him and then slamming him down the rubble. A voiceless cry escaped from the man's throat.

Moulin towered over Quade and slipped a long thin ice stick between the man's teeth. It was thick enough so that Quade's lips wouldn't meet and stop whatever the bastard was trying to do.

Moulin pulled Quade up, turned him on his stomach, and twisted his hands so he couldn't move. The aphrodite leaned down and whispered. "Don't even try to think of going against me. Or I will bleed you dry."

He abruptly nudged Quade's head against the dirt.

Quade coughed out. The ice within his mouth was biting the soft flesh of his lips. But he could do nothing.

Just when Moulin thought the man had cooperated, he suddenly witnessed Quade looking at him with the corner of his eyes. The beaten man's gaze was deep; amusement lingered within them. But Quade wasn't resisting Moulin's hold. He just stayed there as if he didn't need to finish anything.

Moulin narrowed his eyes. "..."

A few seconds later, he had Quade trapped in an ice coffin, restrained and gagged. Before Moulin could put back the ice stick in the man's mouth, Quade took the chance to speak.

"The third eye..." He hoarsely said. His gaze lifted with a slight squint.

Before he could speak another word, Moulin shoved the ice back into his mouth. The young man glared at him coldly. "Shut up."

After finishing, Moulin turned to Hadrian, who was watching the match with serious eyes.

Hadrian spoke. "Malefics..."

Pausing briefly, Moulin nodded. The wriggling third eye belonging to the Dark Lion flashed in his mind. "I believe so. When did you know?"

Hadrian's eyes narrowed watching the Black Lion. He recalled the black mist that had enveloped it before its transformation. "Before that beast turned."

Moulin furrowed his brows. He slightly turned his head to glance at the ice coffin that held Quade. "We have to tell Accrius about the eye."

"Doing that would have to risk intruding the Match."

"There must be a way..."

Moulin faced the match as he drew nearer to Hadrian. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, feeling the dust in between. His head lowered, spotting the glistening specks of ice on his boots. They sparkled as light shone on them.

Wait...

Moulin lifted his gaze to Hadrian. "I have an idea."

Hadrian raised an eyebrow at him. "It will not work."

"I haven't even said it. It will."

"You'll break the rules of the orc's tradition. It isn't advisable to incite the orcs again and have our recuperating men rise to fight."

"..." Moulin looked at Hadrian blankly. His silence was almost threatening. At least for the man confronting the young man.

"..."

Hadrian sighed. "Fine, I will make it work."

Moulin raised his brows. "Oh?"

A corner of Hadrian's lips rose. His eyes seemed like magnets, pulling Moulin into its endless pools of gold. "Whatever it is you want-"

"You'll grant them?" Moulin interrupted as he busied himself with his hands, ice accumulated within his palms, materializing into an object.

"I'll put up to it." Hadrian chuckled, earning him Moulin's glare.

He continued. "First, we have to make sure our men aren't an inch away from the walls."

Moulin revealed a confused look at Hadrian before tucking his curiosity away. They needed to hurry, and he didn't want to lengthen their conversation even more as time kept going. He only nodded, "Alright, I'll have my brother help."

On the other side of the halls, two mighty creatures were exchanging blows. Accrius abruptly withdrew, blood streamed down on the right side of his face. His eye was shut tight. A deep wound ran across the eyesocket, regenerating slowly.

On the other hand, the Dark Lion lifted his head, licking the blood on his teeth. Three deep gashes on his shoulder began to mend themselves rapidly. The Dark Lion released a huff and a growl vibrated within his throat. He reeled his head back, jaws tight, before a burst of flames escaped his mouth, pouring into the air and surging towards Accrius.

Accrius roared before beating his giant wings. The gusts fought with the red flames as if shredding them in the air until they diminished. The moment the Dark Lion ceased his attack, Accrius lunged forward, claws out and bloody.

The white lion's claws caught the skin underneath the beast's mane at the side of its neck. He dragged his claws down in full force before opening his jaws to lock onto his opponent's neck. Unfortunately, the Dark Lion's much larger claws tore the side of Accrius's belly. A jagged wound spurted blood, dyeing the earth red.

Accrius lets out an agonized roar as his brother clamped his jaw on his shoulder and threw him off. He landed heavily on the earthen spikes.

The Dark Beast roared victoriously as his wounds began to regenerate. He could hear the orcs joining him.

However, it died down when the wounded challenger rose from the rocks, staggering to keep himself up. His wings flexed magnificently, although stained with blood and dirt.

It wasn't over yet...

He refused to let this be his end. There were lives at stake, innocent people yearning for freedom from this cruel city. His eyes deepened, recalling Mellano's concerned expression before they separated. He had to come back to him. Restore this city and take responsibility for the cruelty done.

Accrius's eyes flashed with wrath. He roared with fury. Resolution filled his being.

Suddenly, a light flashed at the corner of his eyea light's reflection. It wiggled on the ground and swiftly shifted towards his paws.

A white dot?

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