The Last Paragon in the Apocalypse - Chapter 511

Chapter 511: 1 vs 3 (2)

The faces of both friends and foes looked grim as they stared at Klaus, his bloody weapon, and the battered Clark, uncertain whether he was alive or not.

They were all terrified at that moment. Lucy and his other lovers fared no better. But Klaus wasn’t about to make things easy for them.

His plan now was to do one thing and one thing only: turn the academy his woman had founded into an institution worth being proud of.

Yes, Klaus was about to play the role of the husband who secretly used his abilities to elevate his wife’s enterprise to its peak.

Queenie, the leader of the overlords, never asked for it, but he is doing it anyway.

After today, when word spreads that a mere Grandmaster-stage expert waltzed into the inner section of the academy and singlehandedly destroyed everyone, people will realize they are nothing more than sheltered greenhouse flowers.

This will force them to pick their weapons and begin training hard again.

Klaus kicked Clark’s body, sending him flying out of the arena.

“Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. However, when he wakes up, he will be a new person. He will become someone who can call himself a warrior and take pride in it.” Klaus swung his sword, flinging off the blood.

‘Yuying, I wish you were here to see me finally use the Art of Torture you taught me,’ Klaus sighed, his mind drifting back to his time in the Witch Tower with Yuying. The tormented world was one of the best times in his past life.

Full of battles and bloodbaths.

‘We will meet again, I know it.’ Taking his mind off that thought, he pointed his sword at the 14 left.

“I know there’s a no-killing rule, so don’t worry—I won’t kill any of you. But know this: after today, sit down and reevaluate your lives. Ask yourselves this question, ‘Do I want to keep being a loser, or do I want to be a warrior?'”

“Now, don’t keep me waiting. I have an experiment to conduct, and you 14 are the best specimens.” Klaus stood calmly, waiting for the next person to enter.

“Oscar, you’re next,” Jason announced, prompting the second member of his faction to step into the arena.

“Just because you caught Clark off guard, don’t expect to have the same luck,” Oscar said as he drew a dagger. Being an assassin, he relied heavily on his speed.

“So they all say… until it happens,” Klaus chuckled.

“Begin!”

Oscar moved immediately, aiming to land the first blow. But by the time he reached where Klaus had been standing, Klaus was already gone.

Unfazed, Oscar shifted again, determined to land just one strike. He had an ability that allowed him to lock down his opponent with a single attack, granting him three seconds to deliver a decisive blow of his choosing.

However, as things stood, he couldn’t gain the upper hand. Klaus was simply too fast.

“A wise man named Fruity once said, ‘Don’t believe everything you see.'”

Oscar, who was about to strike Klaus at the western side of the arena, froze mid-motion and turned sharply toward the opposite end. There, Klaus sat casually on his ice throne, eating an apple.

Gasp!

Everyone in the audience gasped again. This time, nobody knew what to think. Just like Oscar, they had all been tracking his movements as he pursued Klaus.

None of them could comprehend how someone who had been running around the arena moments ago was now seated so calmly at the opposite end.

In fact, they couldn’t understand how Klaus seemed to be in two places at once.

“Remember this,” Klaus began, his tone almost instructive, “when you meet an illusionist in battle, first you should close your eyes. You wouldn’t want to see things you’re better off not seeing.

Ah, well, let me clarify. In the future, when you meet an illusionist who isn’t me in battle, you should first close your eyes.”

Before anyone could react further, Klaus moved. A moment later, Oscar’s agonized screams echoed through the arena.

Five minutes later, an unconscious Oscar was tossed unceremoniously out of the arena.

“Next.”

The remaining 13 took an instinctive step back, sweat trickling down their foreheads.

Jason walked into the arena holding a whip, exuding a chilling aura of ice.

“An interesting choice of weapon you have there, Mr. I’ll be borrowing that to deal with an ugly bitch later,” Klaus said, gesturing at Jason to take his best shot.

“Whiplash.” Jason wasted no time, striking his 4-meter-long whip at Klaus using the strongest skill in his arsenal.

The whip unleashed a menacing ice that instantly dropped the temperature to absolute zero, freezing the entire arena.

Ice mist engulfed the space, making visibility torturous to the eyes. The attack carried a potent ice energy source that amplified its power by 70%.

But that wasn’t all—the whip cut squarely into Klaus, delivering a blow capable of putting him out of commission for a while.

“Next time, learn how to respect your seniors,” Jason muttered, his vision unaffected as he stared at the frozen Klaus.

In his eyes, Klaus was frozen solid for the next couple of hours.

“Not bad, but you still don’t have what it takes to defeat me,” Klaus replied, forcing Jason to step back. But he was too late.

Klaus appeared behind him, and what followed was a soul-rending scream that sent chills through everyone present, making their blood run cold just from hearing it.

Klaus knew it would have been dangerous if the attack had struck him directly. So, right before the blow landed, Klaus employed the [Reality Check] illusion technique.

Using the final form of the technique, he made the illusionary copy of himself tangible enough for the ice to affect it, while his true body used the Vanishing Step to appear behind Jason.

“You losers are much weaker than I anticipated,” Klaus said, throwing the unconscious Jason out of the battle arena.

“I expected a challenge, but it seems you all think being hailed as geniuses makes you the best. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not even close to a true genius—and I don’t even claim that title myself.

But don’t worry, I’ll try to teach you the hard way. After all, what kind of man would I be if I turned a blind eye to your arrogance and ignorance?”

Klaus spoke with a demeanour of deity.

Klaus picked up the whip and examined it for a moment. “Who’s next? I don’t have all day.” He looked at the remaining twelve and smiled.

“My Celestial Wind Pavilion accepts defeat. We won’t be participating any longer,” Soijin Choi said, stepping back with his teammates, who gave their leader a silent thumbs-up in approval.

“Hmm, taking the coward’s way out, huh? Not bad. At least you know when to run and survive,” Klaus commented.

He turned toward the three remaining factions.

“My Thunder Blaze Sect will also withdraw from this challenge. We accept our defeat,” Jake Tyson, the leader of the fourth-strongest faction, said as he led his team away.

“That’s 90 million Celestial points down. What about you losers? Do you want to bug out or keep going?” Klaus asked, turning to the first- and second-strongest factions in the academy—the only ones still standing.

“Don’t think that just because you somehow managed to scare them away, we’ll concede,” Sofia, the leader of the strongest faction, said.

“Good. I don’t want you to concede. After all, how would my faction become the strongest if I don’t defeat you losers in combat?”

Klaus walked back a few steps and narrowed his eyes at the six remaining opponents. Suddenly, his mood changed, and he spoke.

“Let it be known that I, Klaus Hanson, challenge these six to a deathmatch. May the academy acknowledge my challenge.”