Chapter 155 Ambrose's Threat
"Ugh, what is this sorcery?" The White Inquisitor suddenly felt weak and light-headed.
The sword and shield in his hands suddenly felt heavy as lead.
"Humanoid Imperfecta—a curse I was born with." Ambrose moved the sword to a swinging stance. "Of course a person who had been healthy all their life wouldn't understand."
"Ngh, this doesn't stop me from delivering justice!" He let out a deafening roar and lunged forward, the sword dragging behind him.
The arm swelled as if it were about to explode as he swung the sword upward towards the sky.
"Basic Parry!" Ambrose blocked the sword but soon noticed that he was losing in the battle of strength. Therefore, he couldn't parry the sword.
Even with the curse, the White Inquisitor managed to push Ambrose backwards.
Ambrose stumbled backward with a stunned expression.
"Rah!" The White Inquisitor lunged forward with the shield raised. Like a raging bull, he tackled Ambrose to the ground.
Ambrose coughed the air out of his lungs and then saw a sword thrusting towards his head. He quickly rolled to the side to narrowly avoid the fatal blow.
The White Inquisitor pulled the sword from the ground and smashed it to the ground beside him. However, the slippery, red-cloaked young man avoided that too.
Ambrose swiftly jumped to his feet and backed away from the rageful Inquisitor.
"You can't escape!" The White Inquisitor roared and delivered powerful, hard slashes. The blade narrowly missed the head of his target, but he then struck the sword down and grazed Ambrose's shoulder.
"Tsk." Ambrose clicked his tongue and then saw the sword chasing after him. The relentless attacks had no end as the White Inquisitor chased after him like a bloodthirsty dog.
'There is still time before the curse is gone, but I can't do anything with this pressure!'
The White Inquisitor blocked the black blade with the shield and then tackled Ambrose's shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. He, however, quickly stood up with blood dripping down the corner of his lip.
Swoosh—the white-robed Inquisitor lifted his sword and chopped it down, but Ambrose narrowly avoided it by hopping to the left.
Ambrose again started using his boxer's footwork and quickly avoided the sword strikes as he approached the white-robed man.
With the black blade, he delivered a powerful attack on the large shield. Yet the White Inquisitor looked unfazed.
That was as expected.
Ambrose had no reaction and remembered a certain teaching of his grandmaster.
'There is no such thing as perfect defense. Only a perfect offense. Find that small weakness and exploit it.'
'Because of Humanoid Imperfecta, his speed is greatly impaired. His movement speed wasn't anything special before and now it should be even slower.'
Hop, hop—Ambrose suddenly started hopping and quickly side-jumped to the left, but the White Inquisitor followed him with ease, closing the distance between them.
However, then Ambrose did a quick side jump to the right, but the White Inquisitor expected that and blocked the advancement as he had already tried that before.
A small smile crept up on the White Inquisitor's lips as he realized he had outsmarted his opponent.
Yet Ambrose looked calm and composed.
Splash—The White Inquisitor stepped on top of a pond of blood that had yet to dry. He didn't notice that as he drove his sword forward to end the life of his opponent.
"Watch out when you fall; Humanoid Imperfecta is a bitch." Ambrose raised his leg and smashed it into the shield.
The White Inquisitor effortlessly blocked the kick and was about to scoff, but then he suddenly felt his balance slip away.
After the kick landed on his shield, his footing slipped because of the slippery surface, causing him to fall down.
However, as the White Inquisitor neared the ground, he was preparing to jump right back. He had fallen thousands of times during his fighting and knew the most efficient way to stand up.
Staying down on the battlefield was equal to death.
As his back crashed into the ground, he immediately tucked his knees to his chest and planned to use the momentum to roll backward.
But, at that moment, a sudden, sharp pain shot through his body as if he had landed on top of ground made of sharp blades.
He realized something was terribly wrong.
"Ah, argh!" The White Inquisitor's painful roar sent chills through the disciples spines as they heard their superior's cry.
The fall severed the White Inquisitor's spinal cord. He lay motionless on the ground, unable to move or feel anything from the neck down. Yet the pain was very vivid.
Ambrose walked over to him and knelt down, his expression grim and sympathetic. He imagined himself in the White Inquisitor's shoes.
That could also be his fate.
"I'll remove you from your misery." Ambrose lifted the sword, and as the White Inquisitor's eyes widened in shock, he slashed it down, swiftly ending his life.
[You killed a White Inquisitor!]
[1000 XP Earned!]
...
On top of the fortress walls, the bushy-bearded White Inquisitor lowered his binoculars and sighed before drawing a cross on his chest.
"Rest well in the afterlife." He then looked towards the red-cloaked figure and narrowed his eyes. "That was very strange. I wonder what happened to cause such a painful reaction."
The White Inquisitors were rarely friends. They fought against each other for promotions. In such a competitive environment, there was no time for friendships.
Thus, he was rather satisfied to see one of his potential rivals die on the battlefield. He was still very curious about how that happened.
The red-cloaked figure seemed to slowly lose, but then, in a sudden twist of events, he won in the strangest manner possible.
Tap, tap—hurried footsteps came from the stairs of one of the towers as the panting disciple soon returned with a brown bounty poster.
"I-I found his bounty poster!" The disciple said while panting. He was rather lucky that he searched the new bounty posters first.
Since neither of them had ever heard about the red-cloaked figure, he expected him to be a new outlaw. It took him several minutes to find the resemblance between the sketched image and the red-cloaked figure.
However, he was certain that it was his.
"T-the sketched image definitely has hair, but he must've cut his hair recently to look different!" He then handed the brown bounty poster over to his superior.
The White Inquisitor curiously looked at the sketched image and then used binoculars to watch the red-cloaked figure. There was a small resemblance, but enough to convince himself that it was the correct person.
"Hmm, Ambrose..." The White Inquisitor frowned as he swore he had heard this name. "Isn't this the person that escaped Amaterasu's prison?"
"I did read it from reports. It is him!" The disciple confirmed.
"Oh, I heard that Sir Lowa and several of my colleagues went after him. I heard that he got away. To think that he willingly came to Warhaven.
"Well, this place is perfect for garbage like him."
"What happened to the fight?" The disciple asked, as he couldn't find the muscular White Inquisitor anywhere.
"Ambrose won." The White Inquisitor said.
"W-what?!" The disciple looked shocked. The White Inquisitors had trained for decades to prove their worth on the battlefield, and yet, one of them had now died to an outlaw worth merely 7,500 silvers.
"I suppose we need to increase his bounty. This Ambrose has some strange abilities at his disposal." The White Inquisitor frowned and looked at the disciple. "What do you think his bounty should be?"
"Y-you are asking me?" The disciple looked surprised and thrilled. This meant that this was one of the tests that would decide whether he was worthy of trying out the Inquisitorious Test.
"Yes." The White Inquisitor replied.
"Well, he killed Sir Nuwu, who is very skilled in combat. However, he was already injured and might've been taken by surprise, but if what you said was true and Ambrose has some strange abilities that helped him kill him...
"He could be a very dangerous individual on the battlefield if any of the disciples encounter him there."
"Yes. So, what do you think his bounty should be?"
The disciple took a deep breath and said. "His bounty should definitely be..."
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