Transmigration To Magus World-Chapter 100: A Loss is a Loss

"Rip!"

The sound of fabric tearing rang out, but the anticipated scene of someone being disemboweled did not occur.

Marques had already moved back a step before the blade could reach him. This step ensured that the sharp knife energy only tore through his robes, while the Cold Moon Blade itself failed to land a direct hit.

Even so, the blade’s sharpness was extraordinary—it could easily slice through a wooden stake as thick as a fist.

But it was a missed opportunity.

Hearing the sound of the tear, Aizen immediately realized his strike had not succeeded. Without looking, he instinctively understood that his opponent was wearing inner armor.

Without hesitation, Aizen shifted his momentum, propelling himself forward like a spinning top crashing into his opponent with immense force.

"Buzz!" "Crack!"

The ground beneath Aizen’s feet cracked apart, fragments of stone tiles scattering.

Marques’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he hastily extended a palm strike toward Aizen’s back.

This hurried strike was enough to help Marques retreat by leveraging the impact, but he underestimated Aizen’s strength—and, even more so, the profound depth of Aizen’s internal energy.

Throughout the battle, Aizen had concealed the extent of his internal energy, but in this critical moment, his eyes flashed with determination as he unleashed a burst of power. His lower leg pushed off the ground, his waist twisted, and his shoulder lifted sharply.

"Crack!"

Like a mountain-breaking axe, Aizen’s shoulder blade slammed into Marques’s hand.

"Crunch!"

A sickening sound of bone shattering echoed, sending shivers down everyone’s spines.

"Ah!"

Marques cried out in pain, feeling as though his hand had struck a blade’s flat side with a sudden explosive recoil. Aizen’s internal energy transformed into dark force, surging into Marques’s palm.

The air rippled like water under the impact.

An energy shockwave erupted at the point of their exchange, rippling outward and shaking the garden. The branches of nearby osmanthus trees trembled, scattering yellow petals to the ground like teardrops from a weeping woman.

The fragrance of flowers filled the air as astonished gasps arose from the onlookers. Even Morning Star Magus’s eyes flickered, and he nodded subtly in acknowledgment.

Marques, pale-faced, staggered backward under the force of the impact. His wrist hung limply, the bones shattered by Aizen’s strike. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

The dark force had traveled through his meridians, reaching his heart. The shock sent his heart into a spasm, and blood surged into his throat, finally spraying out uncontrollably.

In this fleeting moment, Marques had already been defeated.

Life-and-death combat is no game. Even a moment’s hesitation or a fraction of a second’s delay can decide victory or death.

Aizen wasn’t unscathed. Marques’s palm strike had sent dark force through Aizen’s shoulder blade, injuring him internally. The impact caused him to stumble forward seven or eight steps.

With each step, the ground beneath him cracked, leaving a trail of shattered tiles and deep pits. By the time he steadied himself, half his body felt numb, and the rampant internal energy coursing through him left his meridians stinging. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

However, before the foreign energy could wreak havoc inside him, Aizen activated his Absorbing Star Method, using its power to resolve and dissipate the force. The damage he sustained was minimal.

Turning back, Aizen locked his gaze and energy onto Marques, his eyes predatory like a wolf zeroing in on its prey.

The blade was still in Aizen hand, and his gaze remained as cold as ever.

On the surface, the battle appeared evenly matched, but Aizen knew the truth—Marques had lost.

Marques knew it too.

His left wrist was fractured, rendering it useless. While he could still wield his sword with his right hand, the real problem lay in the severe internal injuries he had sustained.

Marques’s shoulder strike had not merely been physical. His shoulder blade had intentionally targeted Finger Hard Acupoint, located at the center of Marques’s palm. both being associated with the fire element.

A heavy blow to this point can jolt the heart, potentially causing fatal damage.

In the heat of the moment, Marques had no time to adjust his move. If he hadn’t tried to block Aizen, he would have suffered even worse injuries. However, by blocking without altering his strike, he exposed his palm directly to Aizen’s attack.

In combat, even if one realizes a move is unfavorable, changing it can sometimes be too late.

This delay comes not only from the opponent’s initiative but also from the disparity between the speed of thought and the speed of execution.

Aizen’s strike was delivered with his full strength, backed by nearly twenty years of internal energy cultivation. Although Marques’s internal energy was on par, he was caught off guard. One attack was deliberate, the other reactive—and the result was Marques suffering a heavy blow.

At this point, continuing the fight would only lead to one outcome: Marques’s death, unless he had some devastating weapon like the Rain of Pear Blossom Needles. But he had no such trump card.

"Good. Very good. I didn’t expect you to have this level of strength," Marques said, pale-faced and cradling his fractured wrist. His narrowed eyes betrayed both deep-seated killing intent and grudging admiration. "You’ve only recently reached the Blood Refinement Stage, yet your internal energy is so profound. I assume you’ve consumed a fair share of pills and practiced a powerful internal cultivation method.

"Your combat experience is exceptional, and you hid your true strength until the last moment. I can’t say I was wronged in losing to you."

His tone carried bitterness, but he admitted defeat.

Marques, the 96th-ranked on the People’s List, known as the Dragon-Tiger Swordsman, had lost. And he had lost to an unknown youth, a mere outer disciple of the Heavenly Demon Clan.

He had never heard Aizen’s name before, but it no longer mattered.

Aizen’s name would soon replace his on the People’s List, establishing him as a rising star among Sorcery artists.

The abruptness of this realization stunned Marques. This was why he spoke so candidly.

He could not accept the loss, but there was no denying it.

"A loss is a loss. You don’t need to make excuses. If we weren’t in the city lord’s mansion, in Treisenberg city, you’d already be dead," Aizen said, shaking his head.

He was in a good mood and found himself speaking to a defeated opponent—a rarity for him, as most of his adversaries ended up dead.

Marques was an exception. He was still alive.

Aizen didn’t intend to let him live, but circumstances didn’t allow him to act as he pleased.

Morning Star Magus would not permit Marques to die at Aizen’s hands, nor would he let Aizen kill him outright.

This battle had to end with Marques being spared.

Still, Aizen found satisfaction in the fight. It had been a valuable opportunity to refine his skills further.

Though brief, the battle had been exceptionally intense. Looking back, Aizen marveled at how his reactions and strikes had been perfectly executed.

In those perilous moments, it was either the spark of inspiration or the culmination of years of martial practice that allowed him to respond with such precision and adaptability.

Experiences like these were rare and invaluable for a Sorcery artist.

His rapid improvement in strength had finally begun to feel natural. The battle had forced him to adapt and integrate his newfound power.

Nothing pushes a person’s potential further than facing the brink of life and death.