Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person's POV

As the ground below him erupted again, he leaped lightly and used the side of another spike as a stepping stone to propel himself higher into the air.

From there, his movements became something entirely different.

The attack was adaptive as some of the spikes detached from the ground and shot toward him.

They were clearly intent on impaling him in mid-air.

Twisting his body with inhuman grace, Ethan dodged the first airborne spike.

He seemed to swim through the air as his movements were a blend of acrobatics and precision.

Suddenly, a spike aimed at his back.

Without missing a beat, Ethan bent backward mid-spin and allowed it to graze his tunic as he planted a foot on its shaft and somersaulted higher.

Ethan seemed to dance amid the chaos as his form blurred and he vaulted off the spikes while twisting in mid-air.

A cluster of spikes detached from the ground and surged toward him like harpoons.

Instead of panicking, he rotated his body and allowed one spike to slice past his ribs as he grabbed another spike mid-flight.

Using the momentum, he flung himself upward in a spiral.

To onlookers, it looked like he was swimming through the air and weaving between death itself.

They watched in awe as Ethan performed what seemed like an impossible dance of evasion.

A blade-edged spike aimed at the back of his head narrowly missed his temple and sliced a strand of his violet hair clean off.

But there was no fear in his eyes and what remained was only a calculated focus.

If I wanted to, I could end this with my DarkStorm Wings, Ethan thought while he dodged and his mind raced.

But revealing that card now would be unwise.

The ability to fly at his level was unheard of in this world and that innate ability was only reserved for races like dragons or winged demons.

Most beings could only achieve flight after reaching the Sky Realm, where their understanding of the world's principles allowed them to manipulate the air itself.

But even then, most couldn't mimic aerial movement so naturally.

Spells like DarkStorm Wings were thought to be myths and were thought to be long lost to the sands of time.

But not to Ethan.

He had developed the spell under the careful guidance of his Master Nyx, who had tailored it to Ethan's affinity and immense talent with the dark.

They were a unique creation, born from his mastery of the darkness element and his observations of his Master Nyx's magic circulation.

It was a spell that defied conventional understanding, and revealing it would draw far too much attention.

The resulting magic granted him unparalleled mobility, but it was not yet time to reveal this trump card in a place where he was totally alone.

Instead, Ethan continued his breathtaking acrobatics and his movements became even more precise.

He corkscrewed mid-air as he spun around a spike like a gymnast on a high bar, and launched himself off it while flipping as another spike grazed his shoulder.

The spikes that missed him flew toward the crowd, but the warden waved his hand and reduced them to harmless powder before they could cause any harm.

Gasps echoed as Ethan's impossible movements defied gravity and logic.

To the crowd, it was no longer a simple duel but a masterclass in agility and control.

Even Tyler's supporters found themselves clenching fists and their hearts pounded collectively for the young man dodging death in real-time.

As the final wave of spikes burst from below, Ethan angled himself downward and spiraled as if choreographed by the wind itself.

But as if by design or perhaps through sheer coincidence, he landed directly on the kneeling Tyler.

The demon underling had been waiting for Ethan to falter and show even a hint of weakness.

But as the slender young man landed gracefully on the broadsword Tyler had raised in a feeble attempt to defend himself, all hope faded from the demon's eyes.

The demon's widened eyes stared at the unexpected sight of his opponent poised above him.

Ethan's foot pressed down on the blade as he pinned it.

For a heartbeat, their eyes locked, and then with a fluid motion, Ethan delivered a sharp sidekick, striking Tyler's head.

The impact was precise and knocked out several of the demon's teeth as it sent him crashing into the wall.

He slammed into the far wall and the impact left cracks in the stone.

His weapon clattered to the floor, and this time, he didn't rise.

He had fallen unconscious.

Silence washed over the pub.

The pub fell silent and the crowd was stunned by the spectacle they had just witnessed.

The once-mighty Tyler, a demon near the mid-tier Crystal Formation Realm, lay defeated with his magic depleted and his body battered.

Ethan glided down from the broadsword and towards Tyler, his movements as graceful as a falling leaf.

Crimson frost still coated Tyler's chest.

Ethan approached and placed a hand gently over the frozen wound.

A pulse of bloody light radiated from his palm and dissolved the ice into a mist that flowed back into his body.

Satisfied, he dusted off his hands and turned toward the stunned audience.

With a strong leap, he jumped back into the crowd.

The onlookers instinctively parted and created a path for him as he made his way to the old warden.

Old man Leon grinned and flashed his crooked yellow teeth in approval.

Ethan didn't say anything and simply held out his hand.

The warden nodded and handed him the Black Dragon Saber, its curved blade gleaming ominously in the dim light.

The instant Ethan's fingers touched the weapon, his eyes widened slightly.

He grasped the hilt and his first thought was about the sheer weight and coldness of the weapon.

He hadn't yet activated his strengthened physique, and the sheer weight caused the blade to dip.

It caused its curved tip to clang against the floor.