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21Novel > Re: Apocalypse Game > Chapter 89 Duels

Chapter 89 Duels

    <h4>Chapter 89 Duels</h4>


    As the acrid smell of gunpowder permeated the air, one undeniable truth settled in the minds of the spectators: Marcus''s audacious stance under gunfire wasn''t some theatrical disy of arrogance.


    Beneath that beastly facade, he bore a distinctive ability that neutralized the impact of conventional arms. His resilience and regenerative powers made him an adversary that bullets alone couldn''t defeat. The battle had just begun to reach its zenith.


    n, however, grappled with a pressing dilemma. The familiar weight of his [Luger] seemed lighter, a stark reminder of the diminishing cache of unique 19mm bullets he possessed. Each shot fired brought him closer to exhausting his ammunition reserve, a prospect he wasn''t prepared to face, especially not for this singr confrontation with Marcus.


    Closing his eyes briefly, n drew a long, deep breath. As he exhaled, he addressed the 50 yers who observed attentively to the fight. "Consider this yourst training session,"


    In a move that none had anticipated, n unceremoniously stowed his [Luger] into its holster, making his way towards a tableden with an arsenal of weaponry. Every eye followed him, trying to guess his next choice of arms. The crowd murmured, specting on which high-powered firearm he would opt for next.


    But n surprisingly reached out and grasped the unimed [Wooden Shield], Securing it to his left arm, he drew the [Arming Sword] with his right hand - an unexpected choice that left many puzzled. Before the shock could fully settle or Vicky could voice her concerns, n assumed hisbat stance, showcasing a blend of defense and offense.


    From the midst of the gathered crowd, an incredulous voice eximed, "He''s lost his mind!"


    As if on cue, the once mangled and bloodied form of Marcus began to morph. The grotesque spectacle of his regeneration concluded with him in peak form, ready to initiate the next round of their duel,


    Gazing at n, Marcus''s eyes gleamed with a mix of respect and challenge. "Your actions continue to intrigue me, school teacher," he growled, his voice now echoing an even more primal, animalistic depth.


    Anticipation crackled in the air as onlookers awaited n''s next move. In the previous round, n had adeptly darted around, employing hit-and-run tactics. However, to everyone''s surprise, n rooted himself to the spot this time, firmly grounding himself in a ssic sword stance, every muscle tensed in readiness.


    The distance between Marcus and n diminished in the blink of an eye, as the half-wolf lunged, his predatory speed evident. Yet n, his focus unwavering, fluidly sidestepped the lethal swipe aimed at him. With Marcus momentarily off-bnce, n seized the chance, delivering a swift, low sh to the wolf''s legs. The cut wasn''t debilitating, but it was a clear point scored.


    Quick to respond, Marcus whipped around, ws glistening dangerously under the sunlight, ready to retaliate. But n was already two steps ahead. Evading the beast''s counter with a nimble maneuver, he positioned himself strategically. And as Marcus unleashed another barrage of swipes with his deadly ws, n raised his shield, using it as a bulwark against the onught. The shield absorbed some of the brute force but n, always calcting, wasn''t content with just defending.


    With a burst of speed, he pivoted, using the momentum to unleash a powerful arc with his sword, leaving a deep, bleeding gash on Marcus''s arm. The sheer precision of the move, the control, and mastery over his weapon left the audience in awe. This wasn''t a fluke. This was the result of three rigorous years of mastering swordy in the virtual realm.


    But beyond mere technique, n''s sess hinged on his sharp analytical skills. Through keen observation, he had deduced Marcus''s capabilities.


    He estimated Marcus''s agility at a D+ rank and strength at a C rank. While he couldn''t hope to overpower Marcus in sheer strength, agility was where they were nearly matched. Recognizing this, n strategically allocated one of his free attributes to boost his agility.


    [Agility: D] +1 [D>D+]


    As tempting as it was to invest more into agility, n had a broader strategy in mind. Rejecting the straightforward path of increasing his agility or strength further, he instead bolstered his endurance, ensuring he could withstand the prolongedbat and demanding physical feats it demanded.


    [Endurance: E+] +2 [E+>D->D]


    In the heat of battle, raw power alone isn''t a guarantor of victory. Strategy and foresight often tip the scales, and n was banking on that. On the surface, enhancing his endurance might not immediately amplify hisbat prowess, but for the intricate dance of a duel that he anticipated, it was paramount.


    n envisioned a drawn-out battle - a constant intery of dodges, ripostes, and parries - which would tax his stamina to its very limits.


    The battlefield soon bore witness to this vision. At several junctures, when Marcus''s overwhelming strength had n backed into a corner, the teacher reached deep within and called upon his [Power Strike] ability. This skill allowed him a brief surge in strength, temporarily bringing him on par with Marcus''s formidable power. To further level the ying field, n utilized [Lunge Strike], which augmented his agility, allowing him to make rapid, darting movements to both evade and counterattack.


    Yet, every use of these skills took a toll. They demanded an energy reservoir that seemed to deplete at an rming rate.


    [Stamina 68/100]


    The discerning eye would have noted the subtle signs: the slight heaving of n''s chest, the thin sheen of sweat on his brow. Yet, what puzzled many was the rate at which n seemed to recover.


    Unbeknownst to most, n''s [Schr Spirit] trait yed a pivotal role here. It naturally hastened his stamina regeneration. And with his strategic investment in endurance, n was not just holding his ground, but actively dictating the pace and flow of thebat.


    [Stamina 55/100]


    As minutes ticked by, those spectating began to see a narrative unfold, one that showcased the underestimated power of the sword and shieldbo.


    Even the most devout followers of the Blood Patriots - who once jeered and mocked - were rendered mute, their taunts dying in their throats. The whispers began, first hushed, then growing in volume and incredulity: "Who in the world is this man?"


    [Stamina 39/100]


    The subsequent moments of the duel mirrored the dance they''d begun earlier. It was like watching a high-stakes performance where each dancer had something to lose with every misstep. n''s agility allowed him to weave and dart around the arena, evading the snapping jaws and shing ws of the half-wolf Marcus. Yet, for all his nimbleness, the force he could muster in his strikes was just not enough to cause substantial damage to the beast.


    Marcus''s growing frustration was palpable. He had anticipated a quick and brutal end to this fight, and yet, n continued to defy those expectations. Every moment that ticked by without a fatal error on n''s part was a testament to his skill and resolve. Marcus could almost taste victory; he knew it would take just one miscalction, a split-second dy in n''s reactions, or the simple exhaustion of stamina to seal n''s fate. But as the minutes wore on, that decisive moment seemed increasingly elusive.


    The onlookers began to shift their perceptions. The more they witnessed n''s tenacity and skill, the more their respect for him grew. From being an underdog, n was slowly but surely bing a beacon of hope and inspiration for many.


    [Stamina 22/100]


    Marcus''s growl of frustration broke through the charged atmosphere. One was panting its breath, the other was full of blood, it was a battle of endurance.


    Before the winner was settled, however, a distant roar of engines grew louder.


    A sly smile yed on n''s lips as he said, "Ah, right on cue."


    It was A convoy of jeeps and trucks rumbled into the farm, dust swirling in their wake. The emblem on the vehicles was unmistakable — it was the U.S. military. And leading them was a face n recognized all too well.


    Emerging from the lead vehicle with a stern expression, a man in a crisply ironed uniform shouted, "What the hell is happening here?" It was Dn, the formidable Sergeant of the U.S. Army.


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