Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 143 - : VULNERABLE TO ATTACKS

Kyle stepped out of his house, the wooden door creaking softly behind him. The night air was thick, heavy with tension. Two familiar auras had brushed against his senses—uncannily similar and, surprisingly, side by side. He had come to confirm the impossible.

"Greg and Lilith," he said, a crooked smile forming on his face. "What an interesting combination. Tell me, Lilith—is he your new target now? Seems you switch sides as easily as you breathe."

His voice was smooth, condescending, and soaked in mockery. He stared at them without the slightest trace of fear, as if their presence amused him more than anything.

Lilith chuckled, unfazed by his taunts. "Well, it's quite simple, darling. You betrayed me, tossed me aside like trash. So I found someone who wouldn't. Someone stronger… someone better."

Her tone was as light and flirtatious as ever, yet there was a venom hidden beneath her smile—a bite of scorn.

Kyle scoffed, but the grin on his face didn't waver. "So, what do you want? Come to pay your respects to my dead mother? How thoughtful of you." His voice was icy, laced with pain disguised as sarcasm.

Greg's eyes narrowed as realization dawned. Kyle's mother was dead.

Read lat𝙚st chapters at fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓ Only.

"It seems everyone that ever loved you is abandoning you," Greg said coldly. "Left to rot in this world, alone—just as you deserve."

"Not everyone," Kyle said with a dark chuckle. "Jess is still with me. We were just about to have some fun… until you showed up and ruined the mood." His smirk turned twisted, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Greg's aura shifted instantly. The temperature seemed to drop as rage twisted his features. A freezing silence blanketed the area.

"Don't let him get under your skin," Lilith warned softly, sensing Greg's bloodlust rising.

Greg's jaw clenched. "I'm not worried," he said, his voice like sharpened steel. "I've always known I could beat him. I just held back… because of you. The unknown variable. That's the only reason I waited. That… and I wasn't sure of his exact location until now."

His fury boiled over. Light burst behind him as massive wings unfurled—majestic and fearsome. With a word in Dragon Tongue, he summoned his weapons.

"Swords," he commanded.

Two blades materialized, crafted from pure mana, glowing with ethereal light. They shimmered with deadly elegance, their edges whispering violence.

Kyle's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "So this is the moment, huh?" he said. "The grand showdown everyone's been waiting for?"

Wings erupted from his back, black and veined with power. His hands warped into clawed monstrosities—demonic, razor-sharp, dripping with bloodlust.

As they prepared for their inevitable clash, the heavens responded.

Thunder growled in the distance. The clouds churned and split, releasing a torrent of rain that hammered the earth. It was as if the sky itself wept, mourning the friendship lost, the lives about to be shattered. The storm roared overhead, a dark symphony for the tragedy unfolding below.

Jessica burst out of the house, heart pounding as her eyes locked onto the scene. Her breath caught in her throat—Kyle stood poised for war, wings outstretched, and Greg, soaked in rain, stood across from him with fury blazing in his eyes.

It all made sense now. Why Kyle had stepped outside. Why the air had turned electric.

But they weren't the only witnesses.

Hidden a short distance away, a third party observed. A famous UTuber, known across the internet, had sensed opportunity. With his crew, cameras, and streaming gear, he was already live, feeding the spectacle to millions. Fame, clicks, and drama—he was giddy with excitement.

Greg noticed him. So did Kyle. And Lilith. But none of them cared. The ants could watch. This was a battle of titans.

Greg and Kyle locked eyes. There was no hesitation. This wasn't a duel.

This was war.

Greg lunged like a lightning strike, swords flashing in elegant arcs. His movements were fluid, terrifyingly precise—he slashed right, then spun with grace, slicing horizontally with the other blade in a perfect counter rhythm.

Kyle dodged the first attack with ease and blocked the second with his claws, the clash ringing like a bell of doom. Then he stabbed forward.

Greg ignored the counter, his mind consumed by rage. Kyle's words about Jessica echoed in his ears. He pressed the attack recklessly, driven by emotion.

"Argh!" he grunted, stunned.

Pain bloomed in his side.

He staggered back, eyes wide. Blood ran down his torso. He had been hit.

He had been hit.

His talent—his invulnerability—had failed.

It was the first time since his regression that he had felt real pain.

Kyle stood there, smiling like a devil in the rain. "Surprised?" he said mockingly. "You should be. I finally figured out how to bypass that broken ability of yours. Looks like your time's up. I've always been your bane."

His laughter was thunderous, cruel and victorious.

Greg gritted his teeth, his breath ragged. But the pain brought clarity. His fury dimmed, replaced by cold focus. He had been reckless. That wouldn't happen again.

"Heal," he muttered in Dragon Tongue.

Light wrapped around his wound, sealing the flesh, stopping the bleeding.

Calm returned to his gaze.

He studied Kyle carefully now, analyzing his movements, measuring the danger. He still had the stat advantage. He still had the skills. As long as he avoided getting hit, the fight was his.

But Kyle wasn't done.

"You know, Greg," he said, holding up his left hand, "Kodiac warned me. He said you'd likely come at me with better stats in this world. So the demon god rewarded my loyalty… with this."

Wrapped around his wrist was a bracelet—dark, ancient, and pulsing with malice. Greg's blood dripped from it, absorbed into its core.

The sight of it sent a chill through his spine.

"What… is that?" Greg whispered, more to himself than anyone.

Kyle's expression was pure mockery. "Something special. A little countermeasure. A gift, just for you."

Greg's mind raced. Was the bracelet suppressing his talent? Was it weakening him? He didn't know—and that uncertainty gnawed at him.

But he didn't hesitate.

He dashed forward again, blades slashing in a chaotic, unpredictable rhythm. His swordplay became a storm—violent, beautiful, dangerous.

Yet Kyle met each strike head-on. He blocked, dodged, and countered with ease, his strength perfectly matched to Greg's.

Greg's frustration mounted. Something wasn't adding up. How could Kyle move so smoothly? So precisely?

Then—pain, sharp and sudden.

"Urgh!"

An arrow lodged deep into the back of his leg.

Greg stumbled, eyes wide. He hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't felt it coming.

The aura on the arrow was faint—hidden. Masked beneath Kyle's own spiritual pressure.

Greg fell to one knee, his breathing labored.

Kyle's plan had worked.

And Greg realized—

This wasn't just a fight.

This was a trap.