Chapter 78: Battle Royale

Val Sabertooth — the bravest, or the most reckless by Hiro’s standards — rode his white horse at the front, while Altair and Cecile rode a little behind him. Symbiote users were basically cheat characters: they wielded insane skills and had sky-high stats, but Hiro had seen firsthand that they could be killed. Jonathan was a prime example.

“Alright! That’s Sicily! Looks like they came out of their hideout by themselves. Let’s issue a challenge!” Val said, his tone radiating confidence — borderline arrogance.

He dismounted and walked toward the three symbiote users who had emerged from Sicily: Sheena, Delghar, and Delilah. A soldier rode out toward them.

“Who is that?” Altair asked the general.

“That should be Delilah. He can’t be Rashick. I heard Rashick wields a huge sword,” the general answered, recalling his intel on Latvin’s symbiote users. “Delilah’s weapon, though, is too elegant to be called a lump of metal.”

“We, the Latvin Kingdom, seek a truce. Let us stop the bloodshed and live in peace,” the messenger said. Hiro was surprised to see Altair no longer executing envoys on sight. She had learned much; Hiro was glad she’d learned patience.

“Begone, worm! I desire a duel! Bring forth your best fighter, and we shall decide this city by blood!” Val scoffed at the messenger.

“Understood.” The envoy rode back. Delilah then stepped forward to accept the challenge. Delghar had yet to fully recover, so Delilah was trying to buy time — there was no way they could win against three healthy symbiote users at the moment.

“So this dog will challenge me?” Delila said. Her face was cold, elusive. Hiro had no idea what was going in her head.. “If I win, will you accept the truce? They will not interfere — you have my word.” Delilah drew her two-handed sword.

Hiro assessed her. Her posture resembled Sheena’s, and he wondered whether she could fly like her.

“Bah, I’m not interested in small fries. Come here and give me your head! Let there be blood — the ritual of war begins!” Val thundered. He turned to Altair and Cylia. “This is a sacred duel! None of you shall interfere. Cowards are not welcome in Delana — they shall be the first to die!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Altair facepalmed at Val’s attitude. She felt a strong sense of déjà vu at this scene, with one big difference.

“Oi, we have yet to agree to any truce, Val. Stop acting on your own,” Cylia said.

“Altair… will Gilgamesh act like this when he arrives?” Cecile gave a wry smile at Val’s attitude. If there was anything this army lacked, it was discipline. This army was a coalition; each faction had their own agenda and principles. They were even worse than kindergartners. Hiro wanted to lash out at Val’s stupidity for abandoning such a good chance.

Alas, Val had decided, and it was unlikely for him to change his opinion. Without Val, that side would have three symbiotes, while this side would only have Altair and Cylia. It would be best if Val won, but Altair had acted similarly before and was almost killed.

“... I suppose he will. No, he definitely will,” Altair rolled her eyes, reminiscing about the past and the attitude of her fellow divine host.

“So, what do we do now, Lady Cylia, Divine Host Altair?” the general asked. He had plans, but without symbiote user’s support, his plans were worthless.

“If Val wins, then good. If Val loses, I will attack his opponent and kill her. That way, we will not be overwhelmed,” Cylia said. Hiro blinked his nonexistent eyes at Cylia. As expected, Litmus symbiotes were different. They had less arrogance than others. No wonder Litmus could survive despite being a small nation.

“Good idea. By the way, let me deal with Delila. Can you distract those two? Give me a minute—no, a few seconds’ window is fine. I’m faster. You’re good with illusions, right?” Altair nodded.

“You will help?” Cylia blinked at her, surprised at Altair’s readiness to do things like ambushes as a symbiote user.

“Val’s attitude is common, I understand. Even I was like him before. I had a few close encounters with death to understand that pride has no place on the battlefield, Lady Cylia.”

“Understood. I will distract those two. What are their powers?”

“Those two are fliers. They can fly. Delghar is more resilient; he survived with a smile on his face when my rapier pierced through his chest and out of its back. Sheena is a swordswoman. Her sword mastery is above average. She has a long-range technique, similar to Sword Wind. It almost killed me.”

“Understood. Thank you for your information. I arrived at Evesys Castle just a few hours ago and have yet to learn much about our enemies.”

“You are a bit too polite for a symbiote user. You’re a real Divine Host, right?” Altair blinked at Cylia’s demure attitude.

“I assure you, Altair, I am a genuine symbiote user—unlike those four,” Cylia answered. “Thank you for accommodating them. I didn’t think you, who knows who they are, would be so friendly toward them.”

“I owe them my life. I am not so ungrateful that I would scorn them for it. Enough talking, the duel has begun.”

Val roared. White tentacles enveloped his body, transforming him into a werewolf three times larger. A silver blade protruded from his hand; his face grew a snout, with serrated teeth baring themselves against his opponent. Two elongated fangs jutted out like daggers—a nickname worthy of Sabertooth.

“Come here, dog. I shall whip your ass. Go back home to the hole you came from!” Delilah brandished her sword. Her forlorn gaze cast a shadow of doubt inside Hiro’s heart.

Val disappeared. No, he didn’t disappear—he was dashing at such incredible speed that his figure blurred. Hiro thought he would finish this battle in one strike; his claws went for Delilah’s carotid artery, but she had also disappeared. Delilah was unlike Val—she wasn’t moving fast but teleporting. She blinked behind Val, and her sword traced a graceful arc, just like in a video game.

“Tch. What tough skin,” Delilah spat after seeing that she had barely scratched his hide, which healed in the blink of an eye.“... Hmph! Latvin dogs and their circus tricks!” Val scoffed. Dashing across the field, he zigzagged behind Delilah, but just like before, Delilah blinked behind him. This time, though, Val was quick to react; he parried her blade with his metallic claw.

Despite Val attacking with both arms—essentially dual-wielding—Delilah matched him strike for strike with her two-handed sword. They were fast, so it wasn’t easy to see, but through Cecile’s eyes, Hiro assumed Delilah had some kind of teleportation ability. Her sword was warping space around her.

“Watch your surroundings. Prepare your guns. Shoot any Latvin soldier who dishonors the duel,” Altair said. Having experienced firsthand how cowardly the Latvin were, she made her soldiers secure the flank.

Alas, no Latvin soldiers prepared any ambush or tricks. They just stood in formation, watching the duel with bated breath, seemingly certain of Delilah’s victory.

Just because Latvin often used cowardly tactics and surprise attacks didn’t mean they lacked powerful symbiotes. Delila had the fewest victories among Latvin’s hosts, but that was because she was often assigned to the king’s guard. In truth, she wielded the kingdom’s most powerful symbiote.

Twenty minutes later, both combatants were breathless. Val looked worse for wear: his pristine white fur was bloodied all over, and his regeneration had slowed to a crawl. Meanwhile, Delila hadn’t even been scratched. Sweat poured from her brow as fatigue began to take its toll. Val clenched his teeth; his confidence was starting to shake. He wasn’t Delana’s strongest symbiote, but he had never been so overwhelmed—even when skirmishing against the nation’s top fighters.

“Giving up? If you admit defeat, I shall spare your life. All i want is a truce.” Delila took one sharp breath and readied her posture. She winced at the duel’s progress; she had expected it to end in a few strikes. Instead, the fight had dragged on for over twenty minutes. Val was too fast and too tough for her hits to land an incapacitating blow. Judging from Val’s condition, she could keep this up — but she had two more symbiotes to worry about.

“Hragh! Giving up? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m just getting warmed up! I know you’re tired. How long can you keep that trick of yours, huh? I just need one strike, then I’ll cleave your sorry ass!” Val dashed forward. Breathless as he was, his speed faltered.

“Then I will end your life here,” Delila said; a glint in her eye revealed murderous intent.

“Watch out!” Altair gasped. A sense of foreboding crept up her spine. Delila blinked forward — not to dodge, but to deliver a killing blow, meeting Val’s charge head-on. In the past twenty minutes, Delila had learned Val’s habits: how he often charged with his right hand first, how wide his arcs were, what kinds of stabs he favored — and, most importantly, where his fur was thinnest.

Delila cut through the artery on Val’s right leg tendon. Blood spurted out, dropping him to one knee. Val reacted quickly—his arm slashed toward her—but no matter how fast he was, he couldn’t match the speed of teleportation. Delila blinked again, this time appearing on Val’s left side. She slashed his other tendon, bringing him crashing to the ground.

Val roared, snapping at Delila like a rabid wolf. He felt no fear; fear excited him, driving his instincts to make bold, reckless moves. But against Delila’s cold, calculated logic, his efforts were in vain. A wounded wolf could never outsmarted the hunter. She teleported behind him, and with a fluid motion, pierced Val’s heart.

“Now! Charge!” Cylia shouted. Before she even finished, Altair bolted forward—her speed broke the sound barrier as she lunged toward Delila. She could practically see her blade slide into Delila’s body—only for it hitting empty air. Delila’s figure vanished, leaving Altair momentarily stunned.

Delila reappeared beside Val’s collapsed body, tilting her head.“No truce?” she muttered. Her tone sounded more like a confirmation than a question.

“Not with Litmus or Mutual.” Altair clenched her teeth. Her trump card had never been dodged before. The fact that Delila had avoided it so easily sent a wave of pressure through her psyche.

The preemptive strike had failed. Whatever advantage Litmus once held was now gone as the battle continued.

Altair charged again—this time Sheena and Delghar joined the fray, while Cylia stood at the rear, watching closely. Her hand tightened around the purple tentacle slipping through her fingers. Golden eyes glared at the two symbiotes.