Capítulo 758: Ch 758 - Reagan’s Shock
"He thinks beating a handful of ordinary fighters means he can challenge us?" scoffed an immortal called Cadel. "This is a whole different world, and there are enough of us here that he doesn't stand a chance. There won't even be anything left to bury when we're through with him."
There was a murmur of agreement among the invaders. After all, even an immortal could be killed, and the triune was powerful enough to do it.
"I'll go first," said Reagan, strutting forward.
Alex slowly rose to his feet and reached out with his inner force. He could sense the flow of energies around him, and they told him everything he needed to know about the triune and the other invaders. He could sense the raw power he faced, but he couldn't let them get their hands on the tricolor flower. He pushed away any doubts. So what if they have a few fancy tricks of their own? he thought. I can take whatever they throw at me.
Reagan didn't wait to cross the imaginary line Alex had drawn. He reached out, and a bolt of lightning flared from his hand. A blazing white flame surrounded him for a moment, and the lightning seemed to become solid enough for him to hold like a spear. Then, with a loud battle cry, he hurled the bolt at Alex.
It was an astonishing show of power. There had always been stories that Reagan had learned to channel his inner force to make lightning, but few people had ever seen it. One of the invaders, Farris, watched with particular interest. He could use his inner force to create something like wind, but this level of control was beyond even him. No one could survive that, he thought. And Reagan is supposed to be the least powerful of the triune. He shuddered at the idea of what Asher or the Fool might be capable of.
Alex calmly struck a fist forward, his hand once again glowing with a green light, as if to knock the bolt aside. The white-hot bolt struck the green light and exploded with a boom of thunder. It shattered into smaller, jagged lightning bolts that spread in every direction, and Farris could feel his hair standing on end.
Snarling, Reagan created two more spears of lightning, throwing them one after the other. These were brighter and more powerful than the first, and a strike from just one of them could neutralize a dozen enemies. Reagan's control of his inner force seemed limitless.
Alex was getting annoyed. Instead of trying to swat the bolts away, he reached out and caught them, one in each hand. Reagan could shape his inner force into bolts of lightning, but he couldn't control them once they were out of his hand.
No finesse, Alex thought. He brought his hands together, and the bolts wrapped around each other, fusing into a single spear so bright that people had to shield their eyes or look away. It crackled in his hand, weighing almost nothing. It was a construct, more an idea of a spear than wood or metal.
He scowled, and the ordinary young man seemed to melt away, leaving only the warrior. Like an angry storm god, he threw the lightning back at Reagan, and it screamed through the air like a rogue comet, trailing sparks in its wake.
His reflexes enhanced by his inner power, Reagan managed to jump out of the bolt's path. It struck where he had been standing and exploded like an artillery shell. The earth was scorched and pitted, sending up a shower of dirt and debris from the blast. A flicker of concern washed over Reagan's face, as he hadn't expected this kind of skill from Alex. That worry was immediately swallowed by anger as he got to his feet. His face and hair were covered in dirt, and his clothes were filthy and torn. He hadn't been tossed around in a duel since his childhood, and he didn't like it.
With a hiss, he called his power again. This time, lightning danced across his body, wrapping itself around him like electric snakes. His eyes flared with blue-white light, and he charged at Alex. He moved faster than a normal human being ought to, even a martial arts expert. He had used his inner force to enhance his speed, the energy crackling over his flesh like a suit of armor.
Despite himself, Alex was impressed. He had never seen anyone use their inner force this way. It was one thing to use it to enhance one's strength and speed, but it was the first time he had seen someone wreath themselves in energy to do it. It's like he thinks his essence is something separate from himself, he thought. You don't have to wear your power if you are your power. He reached into his own essence and prepared for a hand-to-hand fight.
He barely managed to dodge Reagan's initial charge. He spun away and landed a light punch to Reagan's ribs. The contact created another shower of sparks, and Reagan let out a pained grunt as he aimed a strike at Alex's jaw. Alex blocked it and realized that the blow's power came from its speed. Reagan had made himself faster, but not stronger.
He also didn't seem to have much training as a fighter—he was several times faster than any martial arts master, but he had no real skill. Interesting, Alex thought.
The Fool and Asher watched grimly. They knew that Reagan would not be able to maintain his speed for much longer, and once he had depleted his power, he would be too weak to fight. His speed was supposed to have overwhelmed his opponent, but Alex had managed to force an extended battle.
The Fool tightened his grip on his staff and prepared to join the fight. Before he could, Alex managed to avoid a wild swing of Reagan's fist and landed a solid punch to his chest. Reagan was fast enough to catch a bullet with his bare hand, but he couldn't avoid Alex's strike. There was a shower of sparks and another clap of thunder, and the streaks of lightning dancing across Reagan's skin winked out. His breath went out of him in a huff, and his knees buckled as he staggered and nearly fell.
His eyes were wide with surprise as he tried to remember how to breathe. Nothing had ever been able to touch him when he was using his speed, and yet Alex had managed to match him. His speed was almost completely gone, and he watched in horror as Alex's fist swung back around for another blow. He could feel the power Alex put into the strike, and he knew he wouldn't survive the hit.
Estado de energía semanal
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