I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 875: Nothing Alone Is Enough

Behind the warriors forming a circle around the duel ground, Adam watched Zul’Morak fling his house’s red cloth. The shaman strode to the center of the circle. With each step, bones scraped against his skull staff, the soft sound enough to drown the festive voices from the crowd in a devout silence.

Zul’Morak’s eyes blazed beneath his hood as he struck his staff on the stone ground. "After fifty long years, a cycle ends. Who calls for an end, calls for our ancestral ritual fight!"

The crowd cheered until he closed his fist overhead. Then silence.

"I ask you. Who will cleave his path through the gorge in blood and honor? Who will seize the opportunity to journey toward Thaur’Gorath?"

The crowd chanted, "Kragh Ironjaw!"

"Yes!" Zul’Morak gestured toward the crowd, opposite Adam and the shamans accompanying him. "Our beloved champion who turned the violence of battle into art. Make your voice heard to the undefeated Kragh Ironjaw!"

The crowd split open, and from the gap, an orc charged to the center. His reinforced boots thundered against the ground as he ran around, two blades held overhead. Tusks like fangs jutted from a lower jaw that Adam found ridiculously developed. Tattoos and piercings blended with muscles fit to crush bones in a single bite. Ironjaw. Made sense.

Kragh flexed his limbs at the rhythm of the drums, roaring about offering a spectacle worthy of the ritual. Straps fluttered from his leather belt, and a broad spiked pauldron strapped around his lean torso.

Ridiculous.

With a soft strike of his staff, Zul’Morak silenced the chants. "Against our champion. From Zul’Rakhan’s village, he ignores the call of females, the call of life, to snore before his old shaman. A primitive orc who likely slumbered through the previous thousands of cycles. Make your voice heard to the pet lover: Adomash!"

Adam sighed as the laughing crowd parted in front of him. The only chant he got was a chorus of boos. The pet lover? Because of Bao? Far from intimidating. Didn’t matter, though. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Yet, withered fingers dug into his left shoulder before he could step forward.

When he turned, Zul’Rakhan’s blazing eyes narrowed within the darkness of his hood. "No female strikes. Destroy Kragh. Make it slow and painful."

Zul’Gora put Adam’s sword in his hand, her voice a growled whisper. "Make that brat regret every word."

Adam gripped the hilt of his blade and shrugged the hand off his shoulder. Stepping through the walls of lowered thumbs, he poked Bao on his shoulder. She stopped growling at the crowd to tilt her head.

"Here is an advanced question for you, Bao," he whispered as he entered the circle. "Long ago, martial techniques shattered the dominance of raw strength as its direct counter. Do you think, then, that technique matters most? That if yours is more refined than your adversary’s, you’ll always win?"

He chuckled at her decisive nod. For the last three months, he had trained her and Quintella to move with grace, to strike with precision, and to understand timing. The answer couldn’t be different in her young worldview. Yet, it was. Technique wasn’t a magic tool that erased strength, speed, endurance, and resilience. Yin and Yang. Brut strength and flowing movements—both. Like the golem of Cordelia.

"Hmph. I heard you fled the mating tent yesterday, pet lover." Kragh sliced through Adam’s thoughts with a snicker. He gripped his own genitals through his belt, shaking them playfully. "I understand. Most do so when they see me take five females at once. The ancestors truly are unfair. They gave me strength and virility that make others feel inferior."

While Bao shrieked in disgust, Adam’s lips curved like a knife as he roughly assessed his adversary. Barely taller with powerful arms and thighs, but not as much as his previous adversary. "Hold tight, Bao. I’ll show you the answer."

For a moment, everyone seemed to wait. Then, Zul’Morak shook his head. "Since the challenger seems to have issues working out his taunts..." He swung his staff down under the crowd’s laughter. "Begin!"

Before the last syllable echoed, Adam lunged. His blade scraped on the ground, drawing a white line on the stone. Mid-charge, he wrenched it high. No technique or flourish, just a brutal, two-handed, downward slash.

Kragh snapped his blades into an X above him.

CLANG

A burst of wind spread outward from the impact. Kragh’s legs bent slightly, but his protruding lower lip curved into a vicious smirk. He twisted his left wrist, using the flat of his weapon to hold Adam’s sword, while he freed the other.

As he opened up his right shoulder to swing, Adam slammed his forehead against Kragh’s nose. Cartilage shattered with a sickening crunch, and blood spurted from the groaning orc’s nose.

Adam pressed forward even though the destabilised orc swung both blades like scissors. He passed them before they could close on him, ramming his shoulder against Kragh’s chest.

The orc struck even as he was hurled three steps back, one blade aiming for the armpit, while the other searched for the side of the knee. Precise, Adam thought. But precision alone isn’t enough. Technique isn’t enough. Nothing alone is. But right now, he was a brutal orc. No, he was one of their siege engines—an unstoppable force that would only move forward.

He kicked with his plated boot, the grey claws slamming the blade back. Simultaneously, he hammered his sword against the blade coming for his armpit, never breaking his approach.

With a final stomp, his eyes darted to the weapons of his foe—Kragh barely kept them from being knocked from his grasp. This was over.

The crowd’s breath caught in their throats, the arc of Adam’s descending blade reflected in their constricted pupils. Zul’Rakhan and Gora grinned at each other before snapping their gazes to Zul’Morak. Yet, even before his champion’s death, the shaman didn’t flinch. Instead, he was... laughing?

CRUNCH

Metallic shards reflected Adam’s widening eyes as Kragh caught his blade between his tusks. Cracks spread through the holes his bite left before the frame shattered as he drew two vicious arcs from unpredictable angles.

Ironjaw... Adam’s eyes narrowed.

Let’s test how tough it is.