Scar hadn't expected the weapon switch, or the foot-smashing tactic. He jerked his head back, but the dagger still clipped him, leaving a bloody line across his neck.


Tough skin, Lucas thought.


"You have a death wish!" Scar roared. The sting on his neck sent him into a frenzy. He retracted his Warblade and chopped wildly at Lucas.


Lucas dodged, his body moving on instinct, while his hand kept working the dagger. His strikes were flashy, a deadly butterfly dance of steel.


Scar's clothes were shredded. Blood began to weep from a dozen shallow cuts.


"DIE!" Scar screamed, his fury hitting the boiling point.


He couldn't believe a kid was making a fool of him. Scar unleashed his full power as a Tier 1 Peak Martial Warrior. His Warblade became a blur of violence.


Lucas was fast, but Scar was experienced. The Warblade caught him, again and again, slicing through his defenses. Blood started to soak Lucas's gear.


Seeing another heavy chop coming, Lucas didn't dodge. He grit his teeth and stepped into it.


He took the hit with his shoulder.


Scar froze, shocked that the kid hadn't moved.


The Warblade bit deep into Lucas's shoulder, crunching against bone. But at the same exact moment, Lucas thrust his dagger straight at Scar's throat.


The tip dug in... but it wasn't enough. It pierced the skin, but couldn't punch through the muscle to finish the job.


"GET LOST!"


Scar bellowed, planting a brutal kick in Lucas's stomach.


Lucas flew backward and slammed onto the pavement. He coughed up blood, his body screaming in agony. The wound on his shoulder was nasty—deep enough to expose the bone.


Definitely a fracture.


If Lucas hadn't already Tempered his skin—and if he hadn't shielded himself with a burst of Origin Force at the last second—his entire shoulder would have been sliced clean off.


"I almost tripped at the finish line there..." Scar muttered. He felt a sharp, stinging pain at his throat, and a cold wave of fear washed over him.


If Lucas had been just a tiny bit stronger, that dagger wouldn't have just grazed him. It would have punched a hole straight through his neck.


Scar was a mess. He was covered in cuts from Lucas's dagger. None of them were fatal on their own, but he was leaking blood like a sieve. If he didn't stop the bleeding soon, he was toast.


"You're out of Origin Force, aren't you?" Scar sneered, tightening his grip on his Warblade. "Prepare to die."


He stalked toward Lucas. The kid was young, but he was a freak of nature. If Scar let him escape and grow any stronger, he'd be a nightmare to deal with later. But that didn't matter now. The kid had no chances left.


Lucas stumbled backward, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his Sky Halberd lying on the ground just behind him.


What Scar didn't know was that Lucas's version of The Art of Cultivation had been optimized. It sucked in Origin Force like a vacuum. In just those few seconds of stalling, Lucas had already recovered a decent chunk of energy.


But Scar took the bait. He assumed Lucas was running on empty. Without the protective film of Origin Force, even Tempered skin was soft as butter against a Warblade.


Lucas gripped his bloody dagger. He watched Scar closing the distance. Then, without warning, he hurled the knife straight at Scar's face.


Scar's eyes widened. Instinct took over, and he swatted the flying dagger away with his Warblade. The knife clattered harmlessly to the side.


"Stop struggling!" Scar roared. He raised his blade to finish the job.


But when he looked back, Lucas wasn't cowering. He had snatched up the Sky Halberd from the ground and was already swinging it in a vicious diagonal arc.


He still has strength?!


Scar's face went pale. At this distance, there was nowhere to run. He had no choice. He gripped his short blade with both hands, bracing himself to block the strike.


The kid is exhausted, Scar told himself. I can block this!


Paragon Strike! Lucas screamed internally.


He abandoned all defense. In a split second, he poured every drop of his remaining Origin Force into the weapon.


The shaft of the Sky Halberd seemed to hum and vibrate. The air shrieked as the weapon tore through it.


The Halberd glowed with a faint, lethal light. It smashed into Scar's short blade, knocking it flying instantly.


There was a dull, wet thud. Scar's eyes bulged, frozen in disbelief. He stood stock-still.


"Huff... huff..." Lucas wheezed. He was done. His physical stamina, his Origin Force—the tank was completely empty.


A second later, gravity took over. Scar's body slid apart diagonally, separating into two halves. Blood spilled out in a gruesome torrent.


Lucas collapsed onto the pavement.


Tired. He was just too tired. If he hadn't saved that trump card for the end, he would have been a goner.


"Lucas!!!"


Time seemed to blur, but eventually, a familiar voice cut through the haze.


Gordon Wolfe had tracked them down via the surveillance feed. He skidded to a halt, staring at the scene in front of him. He looked at the bisected remains of Scar, then at Lucas. Relief washed over him, followed immediately by pure shock.


Lucas... had actually killed Scar?


"Wolfe..." Lucas managed to say, struggling to sit up. "I seriously almost died there."


He glanced over at Scar's corpse—specifically the pile of intestines spilling out—and immediately spun around, dry heaving. His body shook. During the fight, the adrenaline had kept him going, but seeing a guy he'd just chopped in half? That was a reality check he wasn't ready for.


"By the way, Wolfe," Lucas gasped between heaves, wiping his mouth. "That was self-defense! Just for the record!"


"A Peak Tier 1 Fighter... and you killed him," Wolfe said, staring at the teenager. His expression was complicated.


The kid was a monster. His strength had skyrocketed in such a short time, it was terrifying. Was Tom right? Did this kid have some mysterious expert training him in secret?


[Shock points from Gordon: +10 Credits]


"I definitely almost died, though," Lucas said. He tried to stand, wobbled, and sat right back down. He was losing too much blood, and the world was starting to spin. "Wolfe, you better get me to a hospital..."


Wolfe looked at Lucas, then checked on Milo, who was passed out nearby. He pulled out his phone and dialed 911.


"Wait!" Lucas suddenly shivered, looking terrified. "Whatever you do, don't tell my mom and dad!"


And with that final teenage priority set, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out cold.




"A Class D Fugitive... was killed by a high school senior?!"


Mayor Donovan's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he heard Wolfe's report.


The other officials in the room froze. Fugitives like Scar were a nightmare for the military police to track down. They had all been nursing headaches ever since they found out Scar was hiding in Lancaster.


Nobody expected this to be the solution.


"Is Lancaster finally putting itself on the map? Do we actually have a Prodigy Fighter of our own?" Mayor Donovan asked, his voice vibrating with barely contained excitement.