Chapter 333: Honorless

Michael slept much longer than usual so when he woke up he felt energized and ready to rumble.

However, rather than rushing outside, Michael ended up retrieving the books he purchased the day before. He released Extraction and started to extract the Wisps of Knowledge within the books.

The content and knowledge of the books were extracted one by one, slowly but steadily. He was being careful not to tear off the pages which meant that he spent the next four days in the Origin Expanse to extract countless Wisps of Knowledge, which he devoured immediately.

The amount of information and knowledge flooding his mind was mind-numbing, but it was also quite exciting. Michael learned three new languages - written and spoken -, and he could slowly comprehend the connections between the languages. Understanding the origin of the languages he had learned was quite intriguing, and it allowed him to take a small step closer to his final goal. At least, that was what Michael felt. He was certain!

Now that four days passed in the Origin Expanse, Michael could either spend the remaining five days outside the Origin Expanse, or he could make use of the time difference to spend the next ten days in the Origin Expanse. He learned a lot about the Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs and felt that he could learn a lot by analyzing their strategies, strengths, and weak points.

Michael was busy refining his body and many other tasks as well.

But then again, he was too excited to stay idle. The last four days had already been rather boring if compared to his exciting fights against Thaor, and the other Berserkers.

"I should visit them," Michael mumbled to himself.

He finished his business in the territory after a long talk with Lilica, who was still negotiating with the Forest Elven Elders. Afterward, he approved the development plans suggested by Opars, Liopham, and Tiara before he left his territory through the Runic Gate.

Michael returned to his cozy hotel room, where he jumped onto his bed to feel more comfortable while reading through the messages he received in the last two days.

For one, Alice had sent him a short message. She asked how he was doing, and what he was up to. Her message was informal, and it made Michael wonder if the Frozen Duchess considered him a friend rather than her disciple, or as one of her students.

Michael didn't feel bad at the thought of being treated as a friend rather than an ordinary student. It was a lot better actually.

He sent her a short reply to answer all of her questions. Then Michael asked her how she was doing, and what exactly she had to do now that they had arrived in Piloq.

His questions were not really important. It was just some nonsense Alice didn't have to answer. Nonetheless, Michael tried to be nice before he moved to the next chat.

[Kraft Viton(Bartholomew): Thanks to you I've been really busy. Message me once you're back from the Origin Expanse, and I'll meet up with you. Even if you want to walk through Piloq alone, give me a heads up. I won't follow you, but it would be better if you tell me where you go. That way, I can rush over if something happens. Prioritize your safety!]

Somehow, the old man sounded like a caring grandfather to him. He never had a grandfather, but Kraft Viton was probably the closest to one. It didn't feel bad either. On the contrary. Michael enjoyed the warmth in his heart.

Other than that, Kaleb, Lincoln, and Zeke messaged him as well. They'd been wondering where he was and if he wanted to challenge some Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs in the arenas.

And then there was Annabelle Claire and the Barbaric Couple asking him how meeting the Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs had been, and if they acted just like they'd been described by everyone.

Michael answered their doubts before responding to Kaleb and the rest. He told them that he would go to the arena near the library.

Only then did he see that he received another message from an unknown account.

[Unknown: It's me Thaor. Get your ass up, and come over to the arena. We've been waiting for you for days. Your brethren are mostly arrogant pieces of shit. How about you come over instead? Otherwise, I might actually cripple them before the Battle Exchange starts.]

Michael raised an eyebrow when we saw the message. He didn't know how Thaor got his contact details, but he did. He got up from the bed and sent Thaor a message while leaving his room.

[Michael Fang: Why would I care whether you break their bones, or if you cripple them? If they annoy you, do it. That means less competition for me and more trouble for you.]

Michael closed the starnet messenger once he finished reading through all the messages. Then he moved over to the Ulran Arena, which was where he met Thaor and the others before.

Even if there wasn't any trouble, Michael would have visited Thaor and the others. He had a few doubts about the Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs' fighting styles, and he wanted to analyze them a little bit more before the Battle Exchange started.

Mekhaz was a Champion, and Thaor was a former Champion. Both were certainly strong enough to compete against students in their 3rd year. Only prodigies such as Killian Zeus, his subordinates, and others with similarly high combat prowess were stronger. However, that was also owed to their highly refined War Rune at the Peak of the 3rd Tier.

"Thaor and Mekhaz are probably not much older than me. I wonder if I'll have to clash with them during the Battle Exchange," Michael mused to himself. He arrived in front of the Ulran Arena and entered.

Michael tensed up the moment he stepped inside the arena. The smell of burned flesh permeated the air, and the murmurs of the people in front of him reached his ears.

"Are all humans that merciless? Where is their honor? Do they even know what honor means?" A Warlock Centaur asked, the anger in his voice apparent.

"Even if these humans are powerful, they don't deserve an ounce of respect. How dare they..." The Berserker standing next to the Warlock Centaur growled, manifesting a huge broadsword as he strode forward.

Michael frowned deeply.

He looked to the combat rings and saw Killian Zeus standing in front of a half-charred body - Thaor's body.

Lightning kept zapping through Thaor's body, continuously burning him. Thaor was struggling to move, attempting his utmost to escape Killian's power, but he was unable to move an inch. Not even his Crimson Aura fused with the Red Giant Soultrait was powerful enough to block the lightning that shot out of Killian's fingers. The lightning bolts were dark purple and they looked deadly.

Michael didn't even have to activate his Eagle Eyes to see the streams of energy that had been channeled into the lightning bolts to further reinforce them.

The healers of the Ulran Arena rushed over to Thaor, but they couldn't start healing the Berserker before Killian stopped releasing his bolts of lightning, otherwise, they may also sustain mortal injuries.

All while the healers tried to talk Killian into making him stop, the young descendant of the Zeus family didn't seem to bother. He was eerily calm as he continued to use his Soultrait to burn Thaor from inside out.

The Berserkers manifested their Weapon Artifacts one after another, which was followed by the Warlock Centaurs, who were doing the same. They were ready to attack Killian with their combined forces if it was necessary.

Mekhaz stepped forward, his expression filled with anger and disgust, "You have no honor, human."

Killian glanced over with a nonchalant expression plastered on his face. He shrugged lightly before responding, "In a life and death battle all that matters is your survival. No matter how miserable your victory may be, your enemy's death and your own survival are the only factors that truly matter."

"This Berserker insulted me with his mere presence, so we sparred a little. How was I supposed to know that 'spars' are amateurish battles in this place? I thought Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs were races raised in War, ready to shed their blood and sacrifice their lives on the battlefield. Do you think it makes sense to spare him if he is too prideful to surrender on his own? As long as he surrenders, I will stop."

Michael couldn't find fault with Killian's words or actions, not completely. However, Killian acted like a hypocrite by saying that he would stop once Thaor surrendered. It was not possible for Thaor to surrender in his current position, after all.

Killian smiled vibrantly at Mekhaz. He then pointed at one of his subordinates that Michael recognized as Peter Gramm, the 3rd Star of the Saphirelake Military Academy's 4th year.

"Defeat my friend over there, and I will forgive this idiotic Berserker. Lose, and you will end just like him," He said to Mekhaz, whose expression contorted.

His anger and disgust were increasingly hard to control. Thus, Mekhaz didn't even try to fight against his natural wild instincts. He accepted the fight and entered the combat ring, summoning his Artifact to fight.

Michael watched as everything unfolded right in front of him. He was a little overwhelmed but felt like he had to do something.

But he was too weak to restrain Killian, and he couldn't fight in Mekhaz's stead either - also because he was too weak.

All Michael could do was watch...for now.

He crept around the arena, a plan forming in his head.

'A little suicidal, but feasible...probably.'