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330 lines
7.5 KiB
Markdown
330 lines
7.5 KiB
Markdown
---
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title: "Chapter 211: One against two?"
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slug: "ch-211"
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novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
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number: 211
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views: 0
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likes: 0
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wordCount: 1264
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createdAt: "2026-04-13"
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---
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"Hahahaha!"
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Laughter erupted from Max’s lips—loud, wild, unhinged.
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His shoulders shook, his head tilting back as he clutched his stomach.
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It wasn’t just laughter—
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It was the kind that sent chills down spines.
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The kind that made people uneasy.
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The crowd shifted. Some instinctively took a step back.
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To Max—
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A peaceful year if he won. A death sentence if he lost.
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It was funny.
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Not because of the stakes.
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But because—
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The Young Monarch was no god.
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Who did he think he was to impose a sentence on him?
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"Hehe, this is really funny."
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Max mused, amusement flickering in his eyes.
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The blue-haired young man narrowed his gaze. Watching. Studying.
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There was no fear in Max—only mockery.
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Max wiped the corner of his eye, his grin still in place.
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"You expect me to be grateful? To celebrate the fact that if I win, I get to live ’peacefully’ for a year, and if I lose, I die?"
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His voice dropped, his smirk twisting into something darker.
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"What kind of joke is that?"
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The laughter faded.
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And in its place—
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An oppressive aura exploded from Max.
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His gaze locked onto the blue-haired man—
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Sharp. Unyielding. Merciless.
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"I don’t need your damn mercy. And I sure as hell don’t need a year of borrowed time."
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He took a step forward—
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The space around him chilled.
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"If I win, I don’t just want peace."
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His aura surged—
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"I want your entire Monarch to understand one thing—"
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A cold, merciless light gleamed in his eyes.
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"If they come for me... They better be ready to die. I will kill however many they send."
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He glanced at the five young Monarch elites, his expression turning cruel.
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"As for you five, If I win… only one of you is going back."
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The air froze.
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Max’s voice was like a blade, cutting through the tension.
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"One of you will return to the Young Monarch… to tell him that I am not someone whose life and death he can decide."
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He passed.
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"And I sure as hell am not someone you can afford to play this battle of life and death with."
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The blue-haired young man smiled.
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But his expression darkened.
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"I see… But you don’t seem to understand two things here."
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His voice dropped, cold and absolute.
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"First, you are simply too weak against me. Second, I won’t give you a chance. Our battle will only end in your death."
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A grin stretched across his face—
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Not of amusement, but of certainty.
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"So, it doesn’t matter what you want or don’t want."
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His gaze locked onto Max, sharp and unshaken.
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"What does matter… is whether you’re willing to take this opportunity or not?"
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Max shrugged, his expression indifferent.
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"If you’re all so eager to die, then it doesn’t matter if I fight or not."
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Then—
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His eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at his lips.
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"But… you’ll have to wait your turn."
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The blue-haired young man frowned.
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"What do you mean?"
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Max casually gestured toward Harry and Lyla.
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"You’re a bit too late. I already decided to fight them first."
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Understanding flashed in the young man’s eyes before his expression twisted into a sneer.
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"I see… but I’m a very patient man when it comes to things like this."
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Max smirked.
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"Well then, wait a little."
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Max sneered, his smirk deepening as he turned to Harry and Lyla.
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"Are you two ready?"
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They both nodded, but before they could speak—
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Aurelia stepped in.
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"Give us a moment, would you?"
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Harry and Lyla exchanged glances, then simply shrugged.
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Aurelia didn’t wait.
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She turned to Max, her expression unreadable.
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"Follow me."
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Max raised a brow but didn’t argue.
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With a casual shrug, he followed her—
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To a secluded part of the Villa, where no one else could see them.
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Aurelia frowned, her arms crossed.
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"Are you really going to fight them? This might be a trap, considering what the Young Monarch warned me about last time."
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Max met her gaze—calm, unwavering.
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"I’m going to fight them."
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Then—
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His voice dropped, his words laced with cold finality.
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"And I’m going to kill them."
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Aurelia’s frown deepened.
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"Let’s say you win against that guy… but killing them?"
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Her voice edged with concern.
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"Isn’t that going too far? You could start a war if you do that."
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Max’s eyes narrowed, his voice firm. Unwavering.
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"You can’t change my mind."
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He said solemnly.
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"The Monarch. The Young Monarch. Do they think I’m a pushover? Do they think they have control over my life?"
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His lips curled into a sneer.
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"No. They don’t. They don’t have anything over me."
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He chuckled. Continue your adventure with freewebnovel
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"They can scheme. They can send their lackeys. They can dangle this so-called deal in front of me like it’s some kind of mercy."
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His smirk widened, cold and sharp.
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"But the truth is—they’re the ones afraid."
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He took a step forward, his presence pressing down like an invisible weight.
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"Afraid of what I’ll become. Afraid that I won’t kneel. Afraid that someday, I’ll be a force they can’t control."
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His voice turned solemn, yet resolute.
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"And I’d like to keep it that way."
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He exhaled, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.
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"If they want to give me an ’opportunity’—a thread where one side leads to death—then I’ll do the same."
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His face turned cold.
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"They think they’re pulling the strings. But they don’t realize—
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I have already cut the threads, their life threads that is."
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With those final words, Max stormed out of the Villa.
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Aurelia stood there for a moment, her expression full of frown.
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’I guess this is fate then...’
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Before she followed him out.
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The moment he stepped outside—
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A familiar sneer greeted him.
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"Oh? You actually came back. Here I thought you ran away."
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The blue-haired man stood tall, amusement flickering in his eyes.
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Max barely spared him a glance.
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Then, his gaze sharpened.
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"What’s your name again?"
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Devin chuckled, crossing his arms.
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"Heh. I suppose you deserve to know."
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He tilted his head slightly, a smug grin stretching across his face.
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"I am Devin Leyland."
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Max nodded once.
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"Devin Leyland…"
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His attention shifted—this time to Envoy Lucas.
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"Are they ready?"
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Lucas smiled, nodding.
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"They are indeed ready. But are you sure you want to fight them now?"
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His tone carried genuine curiosity.
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"I can postpone your battle with Harry and Lyla to another day—seeing as you have… bigger matters at hand."
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Max followed his gaze.
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To Devin.
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To the five Monarch elites standing behind him.
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Then—
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A sneer curled on Max’s lips.
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"Them?"
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He gestured at the five.
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"Let me tell you something, Envoy Lucas."
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His smirk deepened.
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"They’re here just to die.
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So whether I make them wait for their deaths or not—
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It really doesn’t matter."
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Envoy Lucas let out a wry laugh, shaking his head.
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"So, who will be first?"
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Max grinned.
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"Send them both at the same time."
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The moment the words left his mouth—
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Lyla exploded.
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"You want to fight both of us at once? Have you gone mad?!"
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Max shrugged, completely unfazed.
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"Fighting one of you, then the other… it’d take too long. And honestly—"
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He gestured toward the five Monarch elites, his smirk deepening.
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"I don’t have time for that."
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Lyla’s eyes flashed with anger.
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But Max wasn’t done.
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"Besides…" His tone was light, almost casual. "I think I can handle the two of you just fine."
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He smiled. Calm. Confident.
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Then—
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His gaze locked onto Harry and Lyla, a challenge clear in his eyes.
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"So, how about it? Are you two ready to trade blows with me?" |