Dungeon of Niflheim

482 Chapter 482: Facing of against the eldest rindar (2)

Frost landed back on the ground with light steps and with his glaive poised for a downward slash, the words to his most powerful glaive skill on the tip of his tongue.

However there they would remain, the eldest rindar moved quicker and was already on the assault with his own skill. Frost was instead forced to lower his glaive and enter a defensive stance.

Unlike with the cyclops the rindar was fast, very fast meaning the battle would unfold very differently. Frost had no area in which he was superior to the eldest rindar thus finding weaknesses to exploit would be challenging. He needed to be methodical and patient lest he open himself up for a deadly barrage.

“[Storm of a hundred blows ]” The eldest rindar moved instantaneously, appearing before Frost almost the very moment he touched down. He activated a pugilist skill of great renown, an advanced level skill that contained devasting destructive power.

Blood red energy covered the rindar’s two remaining fists in dense layers turning them into solid weapons that even 3 star weapons would struggle to match. His upper body then grew in stature as his muscles tensed to obscene levels, the [drunken gambit] skill still being in affect only heightened the devastation that was about to be brought down upon his enemy.

Frost frowned and a cold sweat ran down his neck as he firmed his grip upon his glaive and covered it and his body in layers of ice chakra, going full on defensive.

A moment later the storm began and the eldest rindar punched out with great force.

Don! Don! Don! Don!

The first four blows were parried by Frost’s glaive and very little damaged was incurred. There was a slight inconsistency thanks to the rindar only having two arms instead of his usual four, but this was just the beginning.

.....

Don! Don! Don! Don!

The blows came in increasing sets, the first was four, the second eight, the third 16, then 32 and finally 64 uninterrupted blows each faster and heavier than the first four for a grand total of 124 punches.

Frost managed to parry the first couple sets with just his chakra armour being damaged but towards the end especially the last set his defences were blown apart and multiple punches smashed against his chest, hands and even sometimes his face.

Boooooooooommmm!

As the last blow came down Frost was blown backwards, his firmly planted feet dragging through the floor to create a trail.

“Hu hu hu hu hu” the eldest rindar shrank in size after the last punch and started breathing heavily. His body was greatly drained after using [drunken gambit] and [storm of a hundred blows] together, of course his current state only enhanced the strain.

He glared towards Frost who despite enduring all 124 blows was still standing, he truly had become weak if such a greenhorn was left standing after such a barrage.

“Cough! Cough!” Frost harshly coughed, spurting up blood. His body though still standing was in a great deal of pain. His chakra armour was all but decimated and the armour forged by Daki hiding underneath his robes was caved in and damaged in multiple areas, those final 64 blows were really no joke, each and every one felt as though he was being struck by a giant boulder.

Internally his organs were shaken up, a rib was broken and his left wrist was likely cracked and the bruises that would show up if left untreated would likely make his skin more purple than white. However such damage was easily manageable, his battle capability wouldn’t even be adversely affected too much, it just hurt.

Frost felt a fair bit better after coughing up blood and after wiping his lips with his sleeve he looked towards the rindar with an excited smile. This battle was so much fun, that last move especially really pushed him to his limits in terms of glaive control however it also made something abundantly clear.

“You really have become weak.” He said with a tone that was a mixture of mocking and disappointment. Such a tone caused the rindar’s face to warp in fury as his pride was hit.

Yes it was clear that he had become weak if such a greenhorn like Frost was not only still standing after taking on a direct blow from his combined technique but still had the strength to mock him. He felt a phantom pain in that moment where his two arms used to be.

His [storm of a hundred blows] was only perfect when he had all his arms. With only two the timing was inconsistent, and the fierce momentum failed to build up to its highest point. There would have been no way for Frost to keep up with his onslaught passed the third set if he was in his prime, a realisation that pissed him off to no end.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing for me in the end…..” Frost retrieved a mid-level health potion from his storage ring and started glugging down its contents- a low-level one would have been fine for injuries of such levels but as he stated before he would never again force his tastebuds to endure such abuse.

“…..If that’s all you’ve got then this battle will be over soon.” Frost spoke not with simple arrogance but with confidence as he twirled his glaive and stretched his body. It was true that the rindar’s attack dealt some damage but now that he’d seen and experienced it he knew that if faced with it again he’d be able to endure far better. Unlike the rindar, Frost was in his prime and was constantly improving every second this battle went on; he would only grow stronger after each exchange.

The rindar being as intelligent as he was and adept at looking down on others immediately understood Frost’s tone and the look in his eyes, it filled him incandescent rage. His face became heated, and a blood red colour began to suffuse itself into his eyes as his body and mind gradually started succumbing to the madness of the stampede.

“You arrogant little gnat, you think just because I’m missing two arms, my scales and that you survived my last skill head-on you think you’re above me ha, your arrogance knows no bounds!” The rindar almost screamed as his tired body suddenly became tense and his aura blasted outwards.

“You are nothing but a brat that got lucky, I’ll show what true power is!” With his declaration the rindar once again charged towards Frost with great speed, his fists already clenched and ready to pummel him into dust.

Frost mocking look only grew as the rindar charged towards him, this time however he had enough time to dish out his own attack. With his glaive raised above his head he dug in his feet and summoned his internal energy.

“[Wyvern’s maw]” With his words the energy in his body infused into his glaive before forming into a massive wyvern’s head with razor sharp teeth but that wasn’t all. His cold flame style chakra filtered through giving the mana creature a silver hue and flame like skin. Next his aura entered, still with a rather inefficient and primitive approach but he was able successfully give the wyvern head some essence, increasing its power and the ability to sustain his chakra flames.

What followed was a devasting downward swing that launched the fierce head at the charging rindar.

“Ha you think such a poor imitation is enough to compete with the real thing, in your dreams!” Not the least bit pressured by the mighty wyvern head the eldest rindar continued his charge unabated.

“[Vicious viper strike]” He activated another pugilist skill that focused on swift destruction. Purple energy covered his left fist before forming into the shape of a viper that wrapped around his arm. Then with far better skill than Frost the eldest rindar infused his aura into his strike making the viper far more corporal and insidious.

The massive wyvern’s head roared before snapping its jaws around the oncoming viper wrapped fist. From the outset it seemed clear than its size and power would grant it a swift victory but what could be visually seen was not always the truth.

Bang!

With a loud explosion the purple viper stretched out from the rindar’s fist and devoured the wyvern’s maw from the inside while his fist punched straight through as though it was merely constructed of paper.

Frost’s eyes opened wide at such a sight; shock clear on his face. The eldest rindar smashed apart his strongest attack like it was nothing.

The rindar reeled back his arm and dissipated the aggressive looking viper with a disdainful expression.

“All shape and no essence, your aura is like a fractured mess.” His eyes observed the young dungeon core, his anger somewhat dissipating as he was once again able to look at Frost the way he should, as a predator eyeing up his prey.

Frost may be talented and a strong opponent for the unprepared and unexperienced, but he was still a greenhorn in terms of aura thus his threat to him, someone who was at the peak of the B-rank early stages and in full control of his own aura was limited. As long as he kept his focus and used his aura to attack and defend Frost would struggle to take him down. The games were over, he would unleash his complete strength in hunting down this arrogant prey.

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