The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1238 - 191 - Leon Vs. Veronica - Round 1 (5)

Chapter 1238: Chapter 191 - Leon Vs. Veronica - Round 1 (5)

I poured mana into Ayuru like I was trying to drown her in it.

I did it in a way that it was not a steady stream. I dumped it in recklessly and aggressively—so much that if she were anything less than what she was, she would’ve split apart from the pressure alone. It felt like filling a glass far past the brim and expecting it not to spill.

And yet—

She didn’t crack.

She didn’t swell or distort. She didn’t even tremble.

If anything, it felt like she was drinking it down. She was drinking very drop, every pulse and every surge of energy I forced into her. The blade absorbed it all greedily, like it had been starving for centuries and I’d just handed it a feast. It should’ve been too much.

It wasn’t.

I paused for half a second, steadying myself. Then, I took a slow, deep breath. The kind that fills your lungs all the way down and burns a little.

Across from me, she mirrored the intensity. She was channeling her own mana into her sword, saturating it layer after layer. The air around her blade began to distort, bending slightly like heat rising from pavement. You could feel it in your bones, starting from the pressure building, tightening, and coiling like something alive.

Both our swords had reached that dangerous threshold. That invisible line where the power packed into them felt unstable. Like if someone flicked them wrong, they’d detonate in our faces.

Then we moved.

We didn’t shout. We didn’t count down.

We just dashed.

The ground shattered beneath our feet the instant we launched forward. The broken platform cracked even more under the sudden force, debris kicking up behind us in a violent spray.

Our blades swung at the same time.

And when they met—

They didn’t.

The swords never actually touched.

There was a thin gap between them. It was barely noticeable, but the mana coating each blade was so thick and so violently compressed, that it formed a barrier. The energy collided before the steel ever could. It looked like the blades were pressing against each other, but they were hovering, separated by layers of raw, condensed force.

The air screamed.

That’s the only way I can describe it. It wasn’t a sound you hear. It was a sound you feel. Like something was grinding against reality itself.

The pressure between us intensified instantly. It felt like drawing a bowstring too far back, to the point where your fingers start shaking because you know it’s going to snap. That exact tension.

For a split second, everything held.

Then it broke.

The condensed mana between our swords exploded outward in a blinding flash. The shockwave blasted in all directions, slamming upward into the Guardian barrier overhead. The barrier rippled violently from the impact. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, glowing faintly as they spread. Even the Guardian couldn’t go against that pressure.

For a heartbeat, I genuinely thought, Yeah... that’s not supposed to happen.

Even the Guardian wasn’t meant to crack.

I reacted immediately, reinforcing it by compressing the barrier tighter, thicker, and denser, forcing the mana to stay contained. The last thing I needed was the explosion spilling beyond the arena. That would’ve been... bad.

Beneath us, the platform gave up entirely.

Massive slabs of stone ripped free. Cracks split outward like lightning veins across the surface. Pieces lifted slightly before being crushed back down under the sheer pressure of the condensed mana storm swirling around us.

I coated my entire body in mana, a full-body reinforcement. It wrapped around me like a second skin, humming faintly.

She did the same.

But even with that—

She was being pushed back.

I could feel the shift. The subtle change in resistance. Her mana wasn’t holding evenly anymore. Mine was overtaking it, pressing down, and forcing it to retreat inch by inch.

She realized it instantly.

"Kuh...!" she gritted, her voice tight, teeth clenched hard enough to crack.

Her stance faltered slightly.

Even the Cursed Sword in her grip trembled.

And then—

The mana between our blades detonated again.

A second explosion, louder than the first. It tore a deeper crater beneath our feet, the ground collapsing inward from the force. The blast struck her directly, the sudden surge ripping her sword upward out of her grasp.

The blade spun into the air.

For a moment, it looked almost peaceful with just a sword rotating lazily above chaos.

Then it came down.

Clang.

It hit the ruined platform hard, skidding across broken stone.

I didn’t hesitate.

I reinforced my leg with mana, compressing it tightly around my muscles, and drove my foot straight into her solar plexus.

The impact wasn’t subtle.

The force traveled through her body visibly. Her torso bent around the strike as she tried to cover her stomach with her arms and mana, instinct kicking in even if logic was too slow.

It didn’t matter.

She was launched backward, her feet leaving the ground entirely. She flew until her back slammed into the Guardian barrier with a heavy, echoing thud.

The barrier rippled on impact.

She dropped to one knee, coughing.

"Kuh...!"

Blood spilled from her lips, bright against the dust-covered arena floor.

I gave her a moment.

Not out of mercy. Just practicality. I wanted to see how she handled it.

She clutched her stomach tightly, breathing uneven. When she pulled her hand back, it was coated in red. She stared at it like she didn’t recognize what she was seeing.

Her own blood.

For a second, genuine confusion crossed her face.

Was this the first time she’d ever seen herself bleed?

If that was true... then she’d never truly been beaten before.

That explained a lot.

She grabbed her fallen sword and forced herself back to her feet. Her movements were slower now, and more strained. But she stood.

That alone was impressive.

I dashed again—faster this time.

The distance between us vanished instantly. It felt less like running and more like stepping through space itself. One moment I was several meters away, the next I was right beside her.

My blade came down.

She reacted late—but she reacted. Steel met mana with a sharp burst of sparks.

She blocked the first strike.

She didn’t block the second.

My leg drove into her solar plexus again, even harder than before.

She tried to reinforce with mana mid-impact—

But she was too slow.

"Guaah?!"

The sound that escaped her was raw and unfiltered. Honestly? If someone told me that noise came from her earlier, I wouldn’t have believed it.

She staggered but retaliated immediately, slashing at me and releasing a sharp shockwave of compressed mana.

I cut through it with Ayuru.

Cleanly.

When the shockwave split apart like paper, her eyes widened slightly.

She stepped back, quickly channeling mana into her stomach and internal injuries. That was a smart move. Judging by how she was breathing, I’d definitely ruptured something. My kicks weren’t just physical. I mean, they carried concentrated mana with it layered into the strike.

At this point, most fighters would’ve collapsed.

She was still standing.

Stubborn didn’t even begin to cover it.

But this round was dragging. And I wasn’t interested in dragging it any longer.

I exhaled slowly.

Behind me, magic circles began forming—one after another after another. Hundreds. Then thousands. They layered into the air in intricate patterns, glowing with different hues depending on the attack formula embedded within them.

With my mana reserves, summoning this many circles barely scratched me.

In her condition, there was no realistic way she could dodge all of it. Or cut through it.

I raised my sword and pointed it at her.

The moment I did, every circle activated at once.

A storm of attack magic created through Creation Magic surged forward. Beams, blades, compressed spheres of energy with each one tearing through the air with a sharp, violent hiss. They converged on her position in a relentless barrage.

She braced.

The explosions overlapped into one deafening roar.

The arena vanished behind dust and smoke. The air churned violently from the aftermath. Debris lifted and spun before crashing back down.

For a moment, I couldn’t see her at all.

Then the dust began to settle.

Her silhouette emerged first.

She was still standing.

Barely.

Her posture wavered. Her breathing was ragged. Her sword trembled in her grip.

The damage had already settled in.

There’s a certain stillness right before someone falls. A pause where their body tries to argue with reality.

She swayed once.

Then her legs gave out.

And she fell.