Chapter 675 The gods' chosen pride
Surprisingly, instead of reappearing in front of Ryker, he appeared to his left, swiftly swinging his sword horizontally towards Ryker's body.
Leif had already acknowledged that facing Ryker solely with the Vylkr energy wouldn't be enough, prompting him to give it his all.
However, within Ryker's sharp eyes, Leif's every move seemed visible and incredibly sluggish. As soon as Leif appeared beside him, without turning his head, Ryker swiftly vanished from his spot, reappearing behind Leif solely through his incredible speed.
In the blink of an eye, Ryker delivered a powerful elbow strike behind his back before Leif's blade could make contact with the ground.
BANNG!!
A gasp escaped Leif's lips as the force of the blow expelled the air from his lungs, sending him hurtling off the platform to land beside Isadora and the others.
"Captain!"
"Captain!"
"Captain!"
They rushed forward immediately to check his condition and ensure he was alright.
"Haaa…" Leif breathed deeply, wincing in pain from the attack.
"Captain, are you okay?" Leona asked, checking for any signs of injuries with genuine worry.
"Yes. Haa… I am okay, don't worry," Leif assured them.
Relieved to find no severe injuries, Leona sighed, "That's good; we thought you had broken a few bones from that attack, at least."
Ronan nodded in agreement, and the others joined him in helping Leif sit back upright.
Leif scanned the area for his sword, locating it a few meters away, embedded into a nearby pillar. His gaze shifted back to the platform, meeting Ryker's watchful eyes.
"I lost," Leif admitted, exhaling in defeat.
Ryker nodded and then turned, leaving the platform.
Leif dropped his head low, sighing in acknowledgement of his defeat.
"You tried your best, Captain. It's just that compared to us, they are the real monsters," Ronan said, offering comfort with a tap on Leif's shoulder.
Lyndon nodded in agreement, "Yes, it's already outstanding that you were able to hold your own against him for a while," Lyndon added.
Though the battle seemed one-sided, the Village Chief had clearly stated that Ryker was one of the Village's best warriors, so lasting less than five minutes was an accomplishment.
Despite knowing that their words were only meant to soothe his loss, Leif nodded in understanding before he stood back up again, his body still wincing from the blow he had received at the back.
"Don't worry; there will be qualified healers waiting to attend to you after this," the Village Chief's voice sounded from the other side.
Leif nodded and bowed towards the direction of the Village Chief, "Thank you, Cheif," he responded.
The Village Chief nodded, "Let the next person climb the platform," he said.
They hadn't chosen someone of equal strength with Leif and the others because they needed to be accurately sure about their level of strength.
Now that they had confirmed that they stood on the same level of strength as a two-star warrior, the next warrior to climb the stage was a two-star warrior.
Since there were no additional uses of gifts or techniques, the Village Chief, Orion, and the others were curious to see how their strength compared to a two-star warrior.
"I'll go next," Leona said, grasping her sword's handle with a firm expression.
"Are you sure?" Isadora asked, worried that Leona was about to do something foolish after witnessing her teammate's terrible defeat.
"There's nothing to worry about, Princess Isadora. I understand that we shouldn't take the results of this battle to heart; however, this is about our pride as the gods chosen. I just want to show them that, though we are weaker than them, we are still not an easy opponent they could easily deal with, eyes closed," Leona responded.
"And, most especially, Princess, first impressions count. So unless we do something about this, we risk being looked down upon as the weaker race present," Leona added as she looked at the unfamiliar race with crystal-like hair locs staring in their direction with disappointed expressions.
For them to be present and have someone among the key figures, she determined they also possessed a certain level of strength.
Hearing Leona's words, Isadora was about to speak before she held back and looked at everyone's faces. She could tell they were pondering the same despite not voicing it out.
Isadora sighed in defeat, "Okay, just remember that you are not to use any other energy except the Vylkr energy; you can head over to the platform," she cautioned.
"Thank you, Princess," Leona responded seriously, nodding in understanding.
Leona shifted her attention forward and walked towards the stage.
Witnessing the scene, Patriarch Rylan exhaled deeply as he had already predicted that something like this would happen. To him, it was best if they were seen as the weakest race present, as he knew that it would divert much attention from his race and allow them to steadily rebuild themselves.
Though he trusted the Village Chief, he couldn't say the same about the others.
Nevertheless, he was aware that it would be unnatural for the gods' chosen to take these losses and not do anything about it, so he continued to observe the test despite already knowing how everything would turn out.
As Leona stepped onto the platform, she looked at the man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties.
"My name is Leona, and my strength rating is equal to two-star Vylkr vines," Leona greeted. "You?" she asked.
"I am Gian; mine is also comparable to two-star Vylkr vines," Gian said as he tightly grasped his cutlass.
Though he knew it would be a disadvantage against their weapons, it was still better than stepping onto the platform empty-handed.
Leona's brows shot up in surprise, "So you're weaker than the previous opponent we just faced?" Leona asked curiously, his voice still filled with doubt.
Gian nodded, "Yes. Though I'm sure I'll catch up very soon with him," he responded.
Hearing his response, Leona smiled. She thought they would face another opponent comparable in strength to the last one they had fought. However, it seemed that this wasn't the case.
Follow current novels on freewe(b)novel.c(o)m