Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 144 - : EPIC BATTLE

That was the second time he had been hurt—second time since regression—and both by Kyle.

"Heal!" Greg barked in dragon tongue. He gnawed down on his frustration, his teeth clenched hard. The pain didn't enrage him—it focused him. Anger would only play into Kyle's hands, and he refused to be manipulated.

Kyle watched him with a smirk, eyes gleaming with sinister excitement. Then he lunged forward with surgical precision. His claw slashed through the air—blocked cleanly by Greg's blade—but he followed up with a sudden spinning kick. Greg twisted his upper body back, narrowly avoiding the blow. Kyle didn't stop; his wings kept him aloft as he spun again, reversing midair, head now facing down. With both claws stretched forward like a skydiver, he dropped toward Greg in a vicious dive meant to impale.

"Shield!" Greg shouted. The translucent barrier formed in time, just barely stopping the clawed dive. The collision rang like glass cracking, and Kyle rebounded off it, using the deflection to soar back several meters.

"Dragon breath!" Greg unleashed a torrent of flames from his mouth. The rain hissed on contact but failed to douse the roaring blaze. Kyle twisted out of its path, gliding closer, maneuvering around it like a predator. Greg, anticipating the approach, swung his sword into position. "Shield!" he said again, this time protecting his back.

The timing was perfect—an arrow appeared from thin air and struck the shield with a dull thud. Kyle had tried to ambush him.

Their weapons clashed—sword met claw in a spray of sparks.

"Rain of daggers!" Greg roared. The sky shimmered as spectral blades materialized and came raining down with punishing speed.

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"Abyss devour," Kyle growled. A swirling black vortex opened above him, devouring the daggers in a spiraling void. His control over the abyss had grown—another side effect of his increasingly pure demon blood.

"Bind!" Greg called, and thick vines erupted from beneath Kyle. But Kyle sliced through them with terrifying ease, not missing a beat.

"Gravity pull!" Greg followed up, a force tugging Kyle toward him unnaturally fast.

"Arrow rain!" Kyle retaliated mid-drag. The sky turned black as arrows descended.

"Shield!" Greg chanted again, a pulse of pain blooming behind his eyes as the cost of dragon tongue caught up. The shield held, arrows deflecting and snapping on impact.

Then—Kyle broke through the gravity pull with sheer force, wings slicing through the resistance. He darted past the tip of Greg's sword, missing by a hair's breadth.

Still airborne, Kyle extended his arm. "Demonic beam blast!" A searing orb of crimson-black energy shot from his fingertip.

Greg sidestepped. The blast struck a tree behind him—obliterating it into fragments and fire.

The two combatants backed away, chests heaving, eyes locked. Their breath mingled with the steam of rain sizzling on scorched earth.

From the sidelines, Lilith watched with growing astonishment. Even with her strength limited to viscount level, she struggled to follow their movements. Jessica fared worse—she could barely register more than flickers and blurs. It was like watching a movie at 32x speed.

The two locked eyes—and rushed each other again.

Claws and sword collided, metal clanged, energy flared. Sparks burst from every strike, every parry. They fought as if they'd trained for centuries for this moment, their instincts razor sharp, their minds utterly locked into the flow of battle.

"Dragonification!" Greg roared.

His body expanded with a roar of power. His form grew monstrous—fully draconic. Slitted irises glowed like embers, sharp canines lined his maw, and black scales, streaked with red and blue, rippled across his hulking frame. Massive wings unfurled, and a thick tail whipped the air behind him. He dropped to all fours like a lion, a terrifying force of nature. The reverse scale on his chest pulsed with ominous energy.

Kyle cracked his neck. "Let's play, then. Demon form."

His transformation was elegant and deadly. His eyes turned jet black, his hair grew longer, two majestic horns emerged from his forehead, and smooth black scales lined his skin—not grotesque, but ethereal and handsome. A tail uncoiled from his back, and the aura of a true demon lord cloaked him like a mantle.

"Water bullet," Greg boomed. His voice thundered across the battlefield. With a gesture, he pointed at Kyle—and droplets from the storm condensed, fired like bullets from a god's rifle.

Kyle dodged some with speed—but not all. The ones that struck left visible marks.

And then, something shifted.

Each injury made him… faster.

His movements grew sharper, more elusive. He blurred through the rain, nearly vanishing. Greg noticed it. That bizarre phenomenon again—the more Kyle was hurt, the more agile, more lethal he became. Faster than even Greg's enhanced senses could comfortably track.

"Explode!" Greg snarled.

The water droplets detonated like dozens of miniature bombs, the shockwaves blasting Kyle out of the sky. He smashed through the walls of his own mansion with a thunderous crash.

Jessica had been spared—saved by Lilith just moments before. Most staff had already fled, but a few—greedy opportunists, oblivious deep sleepers, and loyal servants who stayed to guard Mrs. Albert's corpse—were caught in the collapse, crushed beneath rubble.

Kyle rose from the wreckage, bloodied, injured—but far from broken. A red aura roared around him like wildfire, pulsing with menace.

"You really are quite creative with that dragon tongue," Kyle murmured. "I'm impressed. Now… let me return the favor."

He vanished.

A blur.

Greg barely had time to react.

BOOM!

The massive dragon slammed into the earth like a meteor, the ground trembling beneath his weight.

Kyle reappeared in front of him—faster than before—smirking. "Much better. A lizard should stay on the ground where it belongs."

Another kick—blindingly fast.

CRACK!

Greg's massive body lifted again and flew several meters before crashing once more.

Dazed, Greg stood on all fours, shaking off the impact. He frowned, heart thudding. His strength should've been superior. His stats should've been higher.

And yet… Kyle was faster. Stronger.

How?

What was he missing?

Greg

asked himself those questions, victory slipping out of his hands.