Path of the Extra

Chapter 161: The Battle of the Four Horsemen [1]

The moment Vincent's words reached everyone's ears, he and Arthur vanished from the arena. A transparent blue barrier shimmered into existence, shielding the seats and their occupants.

Silence fell over the crowd like a heavy curtain. Breath caught in throats, and all eyes locked on the four Horsemen standing in the center. Not a single soul dared look away.

"This…"

The tremble in Conquest's voice cut through the tension, drawing the attention of the others.

Her head was bowed, body trembling. No one could see her expression, but the unease was palpable. Without hesitation, Subjects 001, 431, and 666 instinctively leapt back, putting distance between themselves and the unstable presence before them.

And then—

"This is the BEST DAY EVER!"

Her voice erupted into a deafening scream, raw with exhilaration. Some in the crowd clutched their ears, wincing as the sound reverberated around the arena.

In an instant, the ground beneath her shattered. Dust and debris flew as Conquest hurtled forward with terrifying speed, appearing before War in a blink. Her expression was wild, her eyes alight with bloodlust.

"I've always wanted to do this!" she bellowed, swinging a fist with devastating force.

BAM!

The blow connected with War's face, sending a thunderous shockwave through the air.

"You're just a big punching bag!" she snarled, her fists flying.

BAM!

"I—"

BAM!

"Will—"

BAM!

"Break—"

BAM!

"You!"

BAM!

Punch after punch rained down on War with relentless ferocity. The ground beneath them cracked and cratered with each strike, creating a massive dust cloud that obscured the chaos.

When the dust cleared, the crowd froze in stunned silence. Experience tales at mvl

War stood unharmed. His entire body gleamed with metallic sheen, as though forged from unbreakable steel. In his iron grip, he held Conquest's fist mid-swing, stopping her assault cold.

His scowl deepened, his voice low and menacing.

"You're not my target. Go play with the old man before I destroy you."

Conquest's grin only widened, her bloodlust surging. With a primal yell, her left arm transformed into a massive gauntlet of solid stone. She swung again, the sheer weight of her punch howling through the air.

"I'll make you grovel before me, War!" she shouted. "And when I'm done, you'll lick my feet!"

War clicked his tongue, releasing her fist and sidestepping her attack. Her punch missed, but the force of it tore through the ground, carving a trench straight to the arena wall. The barrier shimmered as it absorbed the impact, shielding the subjects.

"Don't project your disgusting fantasies onto me," War growled, his voice thick with disdain.

"And don't say I didn't warn you."

Before Conquest could react, War closed the distance, his iron fist connecting with her stomach in a crushing uppercut.

THUD!

Her body flew skyward, but War seized her by the face mid-air, slamming her back down into the earth with a resounding crash.

"Akh!"

The crater beneath them deepened as Conquest groaned, her breath knocked out of her.

War's form shifted again. A sword of jagged metal materialized in his hand, and he drove it downward with brutal precision.

CLANG!

His strike was stopped short, meeting the impenetrable defense of Conquest's stone gauntlets.

Lying prone, she caught his blade between her massive hands.

A cheeky giggle escaped her lips.

"Looks like I'm the one groveling, huh?"

War's sneer turned to a glare, but before he could retort, a gale struck his back, sending him hurtling across the arena. His body smashed into the ground, tumbling to a halt.

Dusting himself off, he turned to find Famine standing calmly, hands behind his back. The old man's hair fluttered in an invisible wind, a faint blue aura swirling around him.

"Young ones," Famine sighed, his tone almost disappointed. "Leaving me out... is quite rude."

With a flick of his wrist, razor-sharp blades of wind shot toward War, tearing through the air with a high-pitched whine.

War snarled, summoning walls of metal to shield himself, but the wind blades sliced through them effortlessly. Panic flickered in his eyes.

"Fuck—"

He spun around, but Conquest was already charging, a crazed grin splitting her face. Stone spears hovered around her, their tips gleaming as she launched them in rapid succession.

Caught between the two, War's fury erupted.

"DON'T YOU DARE UNDERESTIMATE ME!"

Liquid metal swirled around him, hardening into countless shards that whirled in a violent tornado.

Wind, stone, and metal collided in a cataclysmic explosion of power. The arena shook, the ground splitting apart as shockwaves rippled outward.

The spectators clung to their seats, shielded only by the barrier. Some shielded their eyes, others gawked in awe, unable to comprehend the scale of destruction.

When the chaos subsided, a massive crater remained where the three Horsemen stood, glaring at one another. None appeared winded. If anything, they seemed invigorated, as though they hadn't even begun to take the fight seriously.

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder.

"How can they have this much control over their affinities already…?!"

"This is insane… They're intermediate rank, and yet…"

Fear crept into their voices.

And then one voice cut through the din.

"H-Hey… what is

he

doing…?"

All eyes turned toward the final Horseman—the one who had yet to move.

666, the Horseman of Death, sat perched on a throne of flawless ice. His posture was lazy, one arm resting on the throne's armrest, his head propped against his hand. His hair obscured his eyes, but the faintest smirk curved his lips.

The sight made the crowd's breath catch. There was something unnerving about his stillness, his sheer disregard for the battle raging around him.

Even the other Horsemen paused, their gazes snapping to him.

War gritted his teeth.

"That arrogant behaviour of yours never changes, does it, kid?"

Conquest's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"That throne is AMAZING! Can you make one for me, too?"

Famine stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"It does have… flair."

Azriel's smirk widened. His voice, low and dripping with boredom, carried effortlessly across the arena.

"It's not my fault you three fight so… boringly."