Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 328: BATTLING ENVY CLAN III

Zen rose slowly to his feet, brushing the clinging dust and fine debris from his torn clothes with deliberate, unhurried motions.

Small clouds of gray powder drifted upward in the dim light of the battlefield.

"I see," he said, his voice calm but laced with a strange curiosity. "I can’t dodge your attacks. And strangely... I can’t hit you."

An intriguing look crossed his face, half fascination, half growing unease, as he studied Greg with narrowed eyes.

Greg offered no reply.

His entire focus remained locked on one singular goal: ending the life of the Demon Prince of Envy.

Words were unnecessary; only death would answer.

"If I don’t get serious," Zen muttered under his breath, "I fear I might find myself standing at death’s door."

His eyes suddenly flared a vivid, unnatural red, the glow intensifying until it seemed to bleed into the surrounding air.

He released the tight reins on his mind, allowing the demonic desire of envy to flood through him, but only up to his carefully controlled limit of 50%.

At that threshold, he could still retain full command of his sanity and reasoning; any higher, and the corruption would consume him entirely.

The transformation began immediately.

Zen’s skin darkened to a deep, almost obsidian shade, veins pulsing faintly beneath the surface.

His eyes burned brighter, twin crimson embers in the dimness.

Two powerful, bat-like wings erupted from his back with a wet, tearing sound, stretching wide and casting long shadows across the cracked ground.

His muscles hardened visibly, swelling with raw demonic power.

At the very tip of his spear, a single, unblinking eye blinked open, staring directly at Greg with malevolent intelligence.

"Sin of Envy!" Zen roared, glaring at his opponent as he activated the clan’s ultimate ability.

The Sin of Envy was the pride and terror of their lineage, an insidious skill that allowed them to randomly copy one of their adversary’s abilities.

The higher their synchronization with the desire of envy, the more potent and faithful the copied power became.

It was a notoriously frustrating technique, one that could swing battles wildly in their favor if luck aligned with them. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

But of course, Greg couldn’t have cared less.

The skill activated. Nothing happened.

"What the hell is going on?!" Zen shouted, his voice cracking with disbelief as the reality of the futility sank in.

The copied ability refused to manifest, no surge of power, no borrowed strength, no advantage whatsoever.

Greg still didn’t bother answering with words.

He answered with motion.

In a blur of speed, he closed the distance once more, appearing directly in front of Zen.

Heaven Defier flashed downward in a vicious arc.

Zen reacted just in time, raising both arms to block the strike.

The impact rang out like a hammer against steel, sending vibrations up his limbs.

But Greg didn’t stop.

He spun his body with lethal grace, delivering a devastating roundhouse kick aimed straight at Zen’s head.

The air whistled sharply around his leg.

Zen blocked again, his forearm absorbing the blow with a dull thud.

He immediately tried to seize Greg’s leg in a crushing grip, intending to hurl him to the ground.

Another frustrating miss. Greg’s limb slipped through his fingers like smoke.

Still airborne, Greg flared his four dark wings, suspending himself longer in the air with powerful flaps that stirred gusts of wind.

He raised one hand, fingers curling as he commanded the surrounding darkness.

A massive, shadowy hand materialized high above them, larger than a man, fingers thick as tree trunks, palm wreathed in writhing black tendrils.

With a thought, Greg forced it downward in a crushing descent.

Zen thrust both hands upward, catching the descending palm with raw strength.

He roared in pain and effort, muscles straining, veins bulging across his arms and neck as he poured every ounce of his power into holding the hand at bay.

The ground beneath his feet cracked and buckled from the pressure.

Greg seized the opening without hesitation.

He twisted mid-air and drove a brutal kick squarely into Zen’s exposed chest. The impact echoed like thunder.

Zen’s body catapulted backward, hurtling through the air before crashing violently into a cluster of his own royal demon guards.

Bodies scattered like broken dolls, armor crumpling under the force.

Annabelle, already positioned and channeling her power, released a barrage of crackling lightning bolts toward the fallen group.

The air sizzled and popped with electric fury as the bolts streaked downward.

Zen reacted with desperate speed.

He curled his wings tightly around himself like a living shield, the leathery membranes deflecting the lightning in showers of sparks and scorched smoke.

But when the electricity faded, he found Greg standing right beside him, impossibly close, impossibly fast.

"You bast—"

Greg didn’t allow him to finish.

Spikes of pure, solidified darkness erupted from every direction, piercing Zen’s body in multiple places, shoulders, thighs, abdomen.

The sharp points punched through flesh and armor with sickening ease.

"Urgh!" Zen groaned in agony, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth.

Gritting his teeth, he gripped his spear tightly and shattered the spikes with a violent twist, freeing himself.

Clutching his bleeding abdomen with one hand, Zen made the only rational choice left to a warrior losing so badly.

Retreat.

He no longer cared about defending the castle, his guards, or his pride.

Escape was the only thought left in his mind.

"Are all demons this much of a coward?" Greg finally spoke, his voice low and mocking as he closed the distance before Zen could fully break away.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Zen bellowed, pumping more strength into his wings in a frantic bid to outpace his pursuer. The air thrummed with the powerful beats.

But Greg was already two steps ahead.

He raised his hand once more. Darkness surged and coalesced, forming a perfect, impenetrable dome around Zen in an instant.

The black sphere sealed shut with a low, ominous hum, cutting off every possible escape route.

"I’m sorry," Greg said calmly, "but you won’t be going anywhere."

"You can’t keep me trapped!" Zen screamed, still hurtling forward on momentum. He drew back his spear.

"Break!"

He stabbed with all his remaining strength.

The spear struck the dome, and shattered instantly.

The blade exploded into glittering shards that rained down around him, each fragment reflecting the utter defeat now plain in Zen’s wide, horrified eyes.

The spear’s eye blinked once, then dimmed forever.