Chapter 42: Feral Berserker
"Stupid brat! Do you think you even have a chance of scratching me? Hahahaha!"
Hemakra’s laughter reverberated like twisted metal, sending an icy chill down the spines of the young disciples. She and Priam stood less than ten meters apart, a distance that seemed to shrink beneath the pressure of her killing intent.
Priam merely smiled faintly.
That silence was the trigger. Hemakra released a furious howl and shot forward like a black lightning bolt, crossing the distance in a blur.
He clenched his fists tightly. But he didn’t want to use pure Ether and reveal his aura, because that would be a waste.
Now... he had a method of fighting a thousand times better.
Suddenly, Priam’s right fist glowed with a subtle, pulsating red light. Priam didn’t retreat; he advanced.
"Son of a bitch!"
Hemakra’s eyes flashed with a frenzied light. The shock struck her like a blade. How the hell was that boy using that Magic Art?!
Priam’s punch surged forward, carrying an absurd amount of atmospheric pressure.
On the sidelines, the Elders’ eyes widened in unison. They needed no explanation: what was coming from Priam was pure life force, dense and violent, manifested through a physical attack.
In the millisecond before the collision, instead of meeting it head-on, Hemakra slipped aside. With a fluid and masterful movement of the side of her hand, she redirected the trajectory of Priam’s fist.
That was the difference between a master and an amateur. Priam had the strength, but Hemakra possessed the surgical technique of a veteran.
Without missing a beat, she spun her body and launched a brutal counterattack: a knee strike aimed directly at Priam’s solar plexus.
But he reacted on pure instinct, twisting his torso and dodging by a hair’s breadth before jumping backward to create some distance.
"..."
It was only a single exchange of blows, but the disparity was obvious.
The young disciples watched with their hearts in their throats. How could that puppet corpse be so fast and technically skilled? This battle was terribly unfair.
The Grand Elder narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening.
"Everyone, be ready. The moment I give the signal, move into formation and restrain that puppet corpse."
He spoke quietly to the Elders, but with unquestionable authority. The clan could afford to lose mediocre members, but Priam was a rough diamond. He would not allow that potential to be crushed here.
Hemakra didn’t give anyone time to breathe. She charged again, her claws slicing through the air in a deadly arc.
Everyone expected Priam to retreat, but he remained completely unfazed.
Priam smiled, feeling something very different emerging within him.
Ever since the system’s assimilation level had risen to 10%, he had realized something about himself was different.
It was as if...
...he had begun to think and act differently from his usual self. His fear and innocence seemed to evaporate, while his desire to fight and never be defeated grew overwhelmingly strong.
"Come. Don’t disappoint me as a good whetstone."
Priam’s growl was icy.
The next instant, his entire body erupted. An intense and terrifying red aura exploded from his pores, filling the air with the metallic scent of blood and power.
The young disciples took a step back, suffocated by the unstoppable aura Priam was releasing.
He stepped forward, cracking the ground beneath his boot, and threw a punch that seemed to carry the weight of a mountain.
This time, Hemakra was even more shocked. But she didn’t try to dodge. She simply raised her palm to meet the attack head-on.
She was stunned. Priam was using her own Magic Art as training!
The danger radiating from him was real. She knew exchanging blows would be risky, but her fury no longer allowed her to retreat.
**BOOM!**
The impact was violent. The earth trembled as a wave of dust swept across the area.
Priam and Hemakra were hurled in opposite directions by the recoil of the energy. At the point of collision, the ground transformed into a mosaic of deep cracks.
Priam spat out a mouthful of blood, but the light in his eyes said he was more alive than ever.
On the other side, the puppet’s lifeless face twisted into a mask of surprise and pure fury.
"How powerful..."
The young disciples behind them watched, completely mesmerized. Five of them were filled with admiration, but Gangrel was the exception. His expression was dark.
With a knot in his stomach, he realized he had severely underestimated Priam. If he had faced him head-on before, he would have run into serious trouble. But at the same time, seeing him use that power, a sick smile emerged deep inside him.
After two exchanges, the power level of both fighters had become clear. In the first clash, the puppet displayed overwhelming brute force; in the second, Priam drove it back with a bizarre power.
In the eyes of all the youngsters, Priam was now standing on equal footing. Maybe, if he used everything he had, he could actually win.
The Elders, however, saw beyond the surface.
"This power of his uses life force... it really does resemble a Sorcerer’s Magic Art. But... I don’t sense the Yin of death," one of them commented, his voice filled with uncertainty.
The other Elders nodded.
A Sorcerer’s Magic Arts were easy to identify because of the trail of death and sacrifice they left behind. It was impossible for ordinary Mages to use them without being discovered. But Priam was different. He wasn’t emitting a single trace of that sinister Yin.
Ironically, that made the Grand Elder even more worried.
The reason was simple: if it wasn’t an evil Magic Art, then it could only be a sacrificial method. A desperate act where a Mage burns their own life essence and lifespan in exchange for tremendous temporary power. To them, Priam was destroying his own future just to win this fight.
"Old bitch, didn’t you enjoy oppressing me inside the cave? Well, now it’s my turn." Priam’s voice echoed like thunder. "Enough playing around. I’m going all out."
"Just you?! Hahaha... brat, I don’t know how you’re using that Magic Art, but I haven’t even warmed up yet. I’m going to get serious now and tear your body into a thousand pieces!"
Priam smiled.
It was time.
’Come! Feral Berserker Rune!’
He roared mentally. Within his soul, a small scarlet rune pulsed, releasing its full power.
Priam’s eyes turned a blazing red. He felt as though he had plunged into a sea of lava.
*BUZZ!*
The air around Priam began to vibrate with such intensity that everyone, without exception, swallowed hard.
With the naked eye, they could see the air violently twisting, as if he were surrounded by a sphere of invisible water. Then the space itself began to "boil." Waves of heat and turbulent pressure distorted everything around him.
"What a powerful aura!"
Shione and Lumiere stepped back in shock. Priam’s aura kept rising, reaching a level completely different from anything they had ever seen.
Priam knew that Hemakra was a thousand-year-old monster.
Because of that, he would not hesitate. It was time to burn his most dangerous trump card. All the energy contained within the power rune erupted, flooding every cell of his body.
A momentary dizziness struck him.
That was the price.
The effect of that power rune was unique and simple. All of his life force was being converted into Ether at once. As a result, his Ether increased by more than four times!
This was the true power of the Feral Berserker Rune. It was the finest power rune he had created on that mountain, using the best crystals he could find.
The amount of energy was so massive that Ether leaked from his pores, rising into the sky like a bluish flame.
His robes fluttered violently, and his hair danced in the air.
This happened because someone at Priam’s level didn’t have sufficiently developed meridians or a Dantian capable of storing that much Ether. Because of that, Priam was losing Ether at an incredible rate, so he had to use it as quickly as possible.
"Cousin..." Flaris murmured, staring at the scene in astonishment.
At that moment, Priam looked nothing like the boy she had grown up with.
He exuded a dominant and terrifying presence, a will that seemed determined to tear apart the heavens and the earth.
Before that frightening figure, even the Elders felt an instinctive urge to bow in reverence.
