Chapter 226: Talia is Forced to Reclaim the Glory of the Demon Race

Lightning churned within the dark clouds. A streak of white light slashed across the horizon, illuminating the faces of everyone in the plaza.

"What are you afraid of? Have you forgotten how strong they actually are?!" Qusai roared at his companions, who were showing signs of wariness.

A measly two days had passed. There was no way a gap in raw power could be bridged by mere bravado. No matter how bizarre the enemy appeared, a head-on confrontation, just like the previous two times when they had soundly thrashed their opponents, would suffice.

The Yaloran team quickly rallied, exchanging determined glances. It was obvious at a glance who held the upper hand!

At that moment, a deafening crack of thunder exploded, sounding like the unleashed fury of the heavens striking straight at the heart. The thunder mingled with the sounds of combat, shouts, and the clashing of metal within the arena.

The battle had erupted suddenly. A member of the Ikerite side charged at his nearest opponent, raising his broadsword high to hack directly at the neck.

Reacting swiftly, the Yaloran member rolled sideways, narrowly dodging the lethal blow while breaking into a cold sweat. He immediately launched a counterattack, throwing a punch that generated a powerful shockwave.

Unfortunately, his opponent's heavy armor absorbed most of the impact. Furthermore, something else was off. Despite taking the hit, the enemy was immovable, glancing sideways at him as if feeling no pain at all.

His frame appeared even more massive beneath the pitch-black heavy armor. A smirk curled around the corners of his mouth. Beneath those bloodshot eyes he raised his broadsword once more, aiming to cleave the person in front of him in two.

Sensing something was terribly amiss, the Yaloran warrior hurriedly backflipped to put some distance between them.

The warrior from Ikerite sneered, shouldering his broadsword. "Tch. You got lucky and retreated in time."

The clashes involving the other fighters played out in much the same way. The five on Ikerite's side showed no reaction to injury or pain, yet every strike they made was aimed at taking their opponents' lives. They mercilessly went for the neck, waists, or simply tried to smash an opponent's head into pulp.

The fighters on the Yaloran side became unnerved and began to shy away from direct confrontation. They pulled back to engage in hit-and-run tactics instead.

At Rank 6, Qusai showed no fear and he shouted angrily, "You bunch of cowards! What is there to be afraid of?"

He charged in at the forefront, fiercely berating his comrades for avoiding the fight, displaying the bravado to take on all five opponents single-handedly.

The other Yaloran fighters, mindful of the disparity in raw power, gritted their teeth to suppress their anxiety and charged back into the fray. With their reinforced, iron-hard bodies and regenerative abilities, they wouldn't die even if they took a direct hit from those heavy weapons. They told themselves that the enemy only looked terrifying!

However, every swing of the gargantuan sawback broadswords and giant axes from the Ikerite side carried devastating force. Whenever they struck a target, the sound of clashing metal was enough to make a person's heart skip a beat.

On the other hand, the Yaloran fighters relied on speed and agility to counterattack, searching for weaknesses in their enemies. Unfortunately, it was unclear whether their blows lacked sufficient power or if their opponents truly felt no pain. No matter how they struck, it seemed impossible to inflict any meaningful damage on the Ikerite group!

Conversely, every time they took a blow, the excruciating, bone-scraping agony and the wave of dizziness made them feel as though they were dancing on the edge of death.

The audience was stunned by the heart-pounding spectacle. Was this really a friendly combat match? To them, it felt as though one side was genuinely intent on killing the other.

It was obvious to any discerning eye that the team from the Yaloran Kingdom held a clear advantage in terms of raw strength. Despite that, the battle was completely one-sided. The Yaloran team was being brutally knocked around by the Ikerite branch of the Demon King Army's Elite Massacre Squad.

The fight quickly turned brutal. From the very start, the Ikerite fighters had aimed mostly for their opponents' throats, intent on devouring them whole. If one had to draw a comparison, it was like a group of elite students who had yet to leave campus facing off against a group of battle-hardened regulars from the demon army.

Aside from Qusai, the strongest among them at Rank 6 and capable of holding his own against five opponents, the other four had already sustained horrific wounds. Their eyes were filled with terror.

The fighters from Ikerite should have been heavily injured themselves, but they acted as if nothing was wrong. Their bodies were as solid as black ramparts and looked immovable, as if they wouldn't even waver until the moment of death.

One taunted, "You're nothing but a bunch of babies."

Another mocked, "How did the likes of you, mere pigs, ever manage to defeat us in the past?"

A third opined, "We are grateful to Headmaster Lance for granting us a new life. This is the true spirit of combat we have always sought to attain..."

Raindrops fell upon the fighters, instantly vaporized by their body heat and the sweltering intensity of the battle. This heat did not stem from the passion of combat. Instead, it was the frenzied, murderous aura of those who had returned from hell itself.

It was hard to even imagine what they had endured over the past two days.

Gradually, the Ikerite Elite Massacre Corps gained the upper hand. Every strike from their broadswords and giant axes felt powerful enough to crater the earth. Despite the desperate counterattacks launched by Qusai's group, they struggled increasingly against this suicidal, a life-for-a-life fighting style.

Only Qusai grew fiercer as the battle raged on. The warriors beside him were struck one by one by broadswords and axes and sent flying meters away by the sheer force of the impact.

The atmosphere on the battlefield turned increasingly brutal. Every attack from the Elite Massacre Squad of the Demon King Army was driven by a resolve to obliterate everything in its path, rapidly turning the clash into a coordinated effort to hunt down Qusai.

"This..."

Noel's mouth was agape. His mind had gone completely blank as he stared at the arena. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something, or rather, everything, wrong with the team coached by Lance!

You call this a friendly academic exchange?

Luviselle's impassioned commentary echoed throughout the entire arena, "The Elite Massacre Corps from the Demon King Army has seized the advantage once again! Their innate 'Berserk' state, combined with pain suppression, makes them incredibly overpowered."

The other commentator beside her hurriedly corrected, "Ahem, it's the Ikerite University team."

Luviselle flippantly said, "Oh, right. Though, from another perspective, perhaps Coach Lance's tactical planning is just excellent. But really, how is the opposing team supposed to play against those five members from the Elite Massacre Corps?"

The other commenter raised their voice and corrected again, "It's the Ikerite University team."

"Er... De-De..."

The other commenter said firmly, "Ikerite."

Luviselle had clearly gotten into the habit of calling the Ikerite team by the wrong name. She hesitated and stumbled over her tongue several times in a row before finally managing to utter the proper name when referring to Ikerite's side.

"Right, the Ikerite team... Well, you know the deal with this lot."

The students and spectators in the stands, who had initially found the whole fight rather bizarre, were now cheering and jeering enthusiastically. They were utterly swept up in the heated, highly entertaining spectacle unfolding before them.

Within the roaring crowd, Talia, whose hand had originally been held by Hyperion, was now gripping her niece's hand tightly in return. She kept her head buried low, terrified that those around her might notice she knew Lance or spot the resemblance between herself and the Poet of Boundless Love.

She suggested in a hushed voice, "Hyperion... Maybe we should go home?"

Hyperion noticed that Talia's palm felt a bit cold. "Tali, are you not feeling well?"

"I..."

Talia didn't know how to explain it. Hyperion still didn't know that she was her aunt, nor that she was actually a demon.

In fact, Talia could even hear students nearby excitedly shouting cheers for the Elite Massacre Squad from the Demon King Army. The sheer absurdity of the situation made every second she spent there feel like torture.

She was a law-abiding citizen! She really wasn't plotting the resurgence of the Demon King Army, nor had she incited Lance to do any of this...