Becoming God Of A Dystopian World-Chapter 211: Taking Out The Swords

'Thud!'

The one who Zhao Luo was staring at jumped on the stage.

"Getting hasty for your defeat?"

Zhao Luo questioned with the smirk that he couldn't get rid of, for some reason.

Mo Suo was the one who had jumped on the stage as he was like the last boss of the outer hall.

He had his sword in his left hand while his right hand was closed tightly and Zhao Luo could see it trembling.

Mo Suo waved his golden sword at Zhao Luo as it was the obvious reaction that he could show to someone who he wanted to kill so badly that he didn't notice that the nails of his fingers were ruining his palm.

"Not hasty for my defeat but for your neck which will feel my sword soon."

Mo Suo sounded out harshly as he opened his right hand and brought it on the hilt of his golden sword.

Zhao Luo looked calm while listening to Mo Suo's rubbish.

Zhao Luo didn't flinch instead he pointed his finger at his shoes.

"Looks like you need another shoe mark on your cheeks since you got rid of the earlier one."

Zhao Luo taunted Mo Suo in a loud voice.

Both of them looked ready to start but they still waited for the elder to give the signal since only after the signal will their real fight start.

The elder didn't let them wait anymore and raised his hand after which he brought it down with an intense speed.

[ Start ]

The elder said in a heavy voice without even introducing the two since both were already very well known to everyone in the colosseum.

There was no one who didn't know the prince of the Royal Mo Family while Zhao Luo had already shown his strength throughout the Open Battle and the Unlimited Combat.

The battle had started as the elder's hand stopped in mid-air right in front of his chest.

Mo Suo slowly backed away from Zhao Luo and then stopped at a particular spot.

Looking at the passive Mo Suo, Zhao Luo was a bit intrigued but didn't give it much thought except,

'He must be scared.'

Zhao Luo thought as he hurriedly acted on the movements of the 'Half Walk' as he closed his hand into a fist and pulled his arm back.

"It's time to show you the reality."

Zhao Luo muttered in a very low voice and then pushed his toes backward with an amazing force thus propelling himself towards Mo Suo while disappearing from his current position.

In Zhao Luo's mind, he was supposed to appear in front of Mo Suo with an explosive fist in Mo Suo's stomach but as Zhao Luo appeared and threw his fist at Mo Suo, he was shocked.

Mo Suo was still standing in his place and Zhao Luo's fist had stopped just an inch away from him.

"So your limit is indeed 8 meters."

Mo Suo told Zhao Luo through the golden hair that was covering his cold and murderous eyes.

Then he brought down his golden sword at Zhao Luo.

'Whoosh.'

Zhao Luo tightened his left fist while looking at the sword descending towards him and the coldness being projected towards him through Mo Suo's eyes.

'So what if you can counter my half walk?'

"You think you can kill me with just that?"

Zhao Luo shouted while throwing his left fist at the golden sword that was in Mo Suo's hand.

Even though it was an uppercut and not a straight fist, it didn't matter since Zhao Luo's fist technique was already at perfection.

"Bullet Fist."

Zhao Luo shouted as his fist was in the merging line between the two planes of explosiveness and calmness.

'Slash.'

"Boom."

Mo Suo's sword and Zhao Luo's fist came in contact and after a short sound of sword slashing, a blasting noise escaped from the collision.

VROOOM!

Mo Suo backed away from Zhao Luo in a squeaky manner.

He swung his sword towards the right.

'Drip, Drip...'

A streak of blood drops was simply washed away from the golden sword and dropped on the stage.

On the other side, Zhao Luo still stood calmly with furrowed brows.

'Even though I have mastered it, my strength is still less than his.'

Zhao Luo realized as he looked at his fist and found a big sword slash that went from the middle of his knuckle toward the end of his middle finger.

The size of the slash was big but the deepness wasn't something that Zhao Luo would be worried about.

"Only if that was his full strength."

Zhao Luo wondered if Mo Suo's sword attack was a little stronger than his fist would have been sliced in half but if it was just that, then it would be a matter of their resilience and who can resist for long.

"But what if?"

Zhao Luo was confused for a moment.

Mo Suo was also looking at Zhao Luo after moving a little more than eight meters away from him.

'Did he lose his mind after my earlier attack?'

Mo Suo thought but he waited patiently since the counter he had prepared was already enough to take down Zhao Luo.

'There is no need to show my hands yet.'

Mu Suo could barely hold his laughter inside while on the other side,

'I have become so used to hitting with my fists that I almost forgot about them, but this could be a nice chance for me to train my swordsmanship.'

Zhao Luo thought in his mind as he proceeded to take out his swords from his storage space.

In his right hand was the crimson sword which was emitting extreme heat while in his left hand was a deep dark black sword that was emitting an unexplainable coldness.

"Ifrit!"

"Blackey!"

Zhao Luo said out their names and the sword trembled in his hands.

Zhao Luo felt the excitement of his swords just like how he was excited.

Holding his two amazing swords, Zhao Luo couldn't wait to clash with Mo Suo with his swordsmanship which was also on par with a Second Sword Warrior puppet.

Zhao Luo didn't rush at Mo Suo but instead raised Ifrit, which was held in his right hand, and pointed it towards Mo Suo as he opened his mouth.

"Come."