Flashy Adventurer System : Show Off to Get Stronger! - Chapter 939

Chapter 939: Bamboozling the Bamboozlers
Shye’s subsequent actions were what anyone in his situation would have done: finish off his weakened opponents.

He quickly swapped both weapons back to greatswords and charged at Primo.

After all, the man gave him the most trouble out of everyone.

Hathor Hawkins was, of course, a close second on his list.

That damned corrosive dagger of his was not only extremely lethal but also excruciatingly painful, even from the most minor of lacerations.

It only took Shye a few milliseconds to arrive in front of Primo.

He brandished his twin greatswords downwards, aiming to cut his target into three gruesome parts.

At that moment, a cunning glint flashed in the First Hawkling’s eyes, accompanied by a victorious smile.

Shye’s eyes widened as Primo suddenly thrust his divine rapier toward his heart with the same speed as before—dark purple aura and black smoke once again billowing from the Hawkling’s body—catching him completely off guard.

Shye, however, had already transcended human limits by more than a hundred points in every attribute.

He was able to react swiftly.

Knowing that the immaculate counterstrike would land first, Shye decided to prioritize shifting his body.

As long as he could get his heart out of the way, nothing else mattered.

Luckily, he managed to do so, and Primo didn’t even notice—fully confident in his speed, timing, and precision.

The eldest of the Hawklings believed victory was already in the bag, and the position of Heir would soon be his.

Not that he had many competitors.

After all, Dweezel was only considering him and Hathor.

His foolish younger siblings never stood a chance from the start.

Everything was merely their Lord Father’s ruthless ploy to secure their loyalty and keep them striving like the most obedient of dogs.

Shye had no idea what was going on behind the scenes regarding the Hawklings, and nor did he care.

Barely managing to protect his heart, Shye coughed up blood and chose to “stagger” backward— “dying”—as he sensed another attack incoming from behind.

While he was eager to kill Primo, prioritizing him would mean taking a lethal strike from Hathor’s dagger.

This could result in him trading his life for the eldest Hawkling’s—a trade he found most unfavorable, so the Second Hawkling had to go first.

At that moment, Shye seemed to fade into the background as the ugly alliances between the Hawklings revealed themselves.

Things quickly escalated into a filthy political battle between king wannabes of a kingdom that doesn’t even exist yet.

Talk about literally delusional bastards.

Everyone treated Shye as though he were already dead, and all that mattered was who could separate his head from his body.

The one who dealt the killing blow would be declared heir, after all, so Hathor quickly leaped at the opportunity to claim Shye’s head for himself.

To the surprise of the two eldest Hawklings, their half-siblings seemed aware of what was happening and had seemingly sworn allegiances to either him or Primo.

They, too, quickly sprang into action.

Twelfth Hawkling shot an arrow at Second Hawkling in an attempt to stop him from taking the trophy.

This delayed Hathor for half a second.

Meanwhile, Primo quickly sprang into action, resetting himself and lunging at Shye once more, who was only a few meters in front of him.

“Hahaha! Nice try, second brother. Victory is mine, though!” laughed the eldest.

Tenth Hawkling—the seemingly mediocre scout among them—suddenly unleashed explosive speed, revealing that he had been hiding his true strength for this very moment.

Tenth knew all along he would never be the heir.

However, he despised Primo with a passion, as the bastard was unbearably haughty and condescending.

And so, Tenth allied himself with the Second.

At least his second brother was someone a bit more pleasant to deal with.

Hence, while Hathor had to contend with Twelfth’s arrow, Primo had to face Tenth’s dagger…

…And Seventeenth’s sword.

Leffen, too, wasn’t stupid. He had long realized that it was impossible to be the heir.

He was just born way too late.

Aside from Fifteenth and a few other dumb or extremely delusional Hawklings, it seemed that everyone else had already realized it was impossible to obtain the position of heir.

Primo didn’t expect one of his youngest half-siblings—someone who constantly appeared terrified of him—to dare side with Hathor and strike at him.

He was caught off guard and left with no choice but to deal with the immediate threats.

Taking the head takes a lower priority, for now.

Blocking Tenth’s dagger, the eldest Hawkling shifted his body to avoid a lethal sword strike but still vomited blood after being struck on his back, somewhere near his heart.

Primo was utterly enraged.

He kicked Tenth in the face, then forced himself to turn and grab the audacious Seventeenth by the neck, tightening his grip with each passing second.

Leffen was naturally horrified, his expression one of pure terror as he struggled to break free from his eldest brother’s vicious grasp.

Primo knew he had to finish things quickly, as Hathor was relentlessly approaching the prize.

Twelfth was barely holding his second brother in check.

Soon, the archer could no longer keep Hathor at bay with mere projectiles, as the second eldest decisively summoned an expensive peak-tier barrier, generated by a life-saving talisman, and dashed straight for the prize.

By this time, Shye had already fallen onto his back.

It even seemed as though he was already dead and that his head was merely waiting to be claimed by the victor.

“Hahaha! The position of heir is mine, Primo!!”

Hathor quickly extended his hands to seize Shye’s head, ready to cut it clean off with his corrosive dagger as he arrived in front of him.

An eager, borderline mad smile gleamed in his eyes through the golden hawk mask, marked with the number two.

But then he suddenly froze.

…and his body, now separated into left and right halves, slumped to the metallic floor with a nauseating thud.

A mix of flesh and organs—including brain matter—splattered everywhere, as the dizzying smell of blood thickened in the air once more.

The Second Hawkling, Hathor Hawkins, was dead, and his murderer was none other than the man they thought was dead.

Rising to his feet, Shye quickly dashed toward Primo, who felt every hair on his body stand on end.

The eldest Hawkling didn’t even turn to look, immediately crushing a special emergency escape talisman and bolting out of the room in a streak of golden light.

The other Hawklings hesitated not a moment, transforming into golden rays of light and vanishing like their eldest brother.

That left only one young man—kneeling alone, clutching his neck, which still throbbed from when his eldest brother had strangled him—coughing violently.

Leffen realized he was in trouble and was about to crush his own talisman to escape.

But alas, he was a fraction of a second too late.

His ‘brother-in-law’ seized his wrists, snatching the talisman from his hands, a manic smile spreading across his face.

“Hahaha! I finally got my hands on you, little bastard. Let’s see if you can still talk after I’m done with you… You shouldn’t have let me catch you… you really shouldn’t have…”