Man With Super Medical Skill (Matthew)

Matthew's calm voice echoed through the arena, reaching every corner of the vast space. All eyes were fixed on the iron blade in his hand, disbelief etched across their faces.

"Is he serious?"

"He actually said he'd defeat Deathcarver with a blade."

"Is this guy out of his mind, or is he just plain arrogant?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Their voices carried nothing but ridicule and scorn for Matthew's audacious declaration. To them, his actions were no different from courting death.

Across from Matthew, Deathcarver's body trembled slightly-not with fear, but with excitement. In just a few words, Matthew had pinpointed all of his flaws. So, how could Deathcarver not feel a surge of anticipation when facing such an opponent?

Beneath the wide brim of his straw hat, Deathcarver's eyes gleamed with a chilling light as they locked onto Matthew. His hands slowly moved to the hilts of the two blades at his waist.

Shing!

The metallic hum of blades leaving their sheaths resonated through the arena. In his left hand, Deathcarver held a short blade almost two feet long. His right hand gripped a longer blade, nearly four feet in length.

"Well then... I look forward to this exchange!"

Without warning, Deathcarver lunged toward Matthew. His right hand swung the long blade in a sweeping arc, its edge flashing with cold light as it slashed toward Matthew's neck.

A flicker of regret passed through Deathcarver's eyes. Someone like him... could've been a kindred spirit. But if I don't kill him, I'll be the one lying dead on this stage.

Matthew stood still, his expression unchanged as the blade came toward him. At the last moment, the three-inch iron knife in his hand struck the center of the long blade's edge. The clash sent a powerful shockwave up Deathcarver's arm, numbing his grip. His expression shifted as he felt the sting in his hand—the skin between his thumb and forefinger had begun to crack.noveldrama

But Deathcarver's success in the Death Arena came down to one word: frenzy.

Without hesitation, his left hand shot forward, the short blade aimed directly at Matthew's chest. Matthew's iron knife flicked again.

Clang!

Steel rang against steel. Deathcarver staggered back a step, his footing momentarily thrown off.

"I have one last strike-the one that always ends the fight." Deathcarver's voice was hoarse as he fixed his gaze on Matthew.

Three strikes that was always the standard run-down with him. Anyone who failed to withstand the third would die. But if the opponent still stood without serious injury after three strikes, Deathcarver himself would be at a disadvantage. Hís technique, designed for short, decisive battles, allowed no room for prolonged combat. Each of his three strikes grew progressively more lethal, culminating in an attack that few had ever survived.

"Deathcarver's going for his final move!"

"Hope that guy doesn't end up in chunks."

"Huh! Only a handful of people have ever survived Deathcarver's last strike."

Deathcarver crossed his blades, forming an X. His eyes never left Matthew as every muscle beneath his straw cloak bulged, channeling every ounce of his strength into the next attack.

"Final Cleave!"

The name of the technique was as straightforward as its purpose either the opponent died, or Deathcarver did.

Matthew adjusted his grip on the iron knife, his voice calm as he spoke. Three strikes... Not one of yours carried any real momentum. Let me show you what real three strikes look like."

In the blink of an eye, Matthew closed the distance. His first strike collided with the

crossed blades, driving Deathcarver back three full steps.

Shock flashed in Deathcarver's eyes. The force behind Matthew's attack had surged, exerting pressure unlike anything he had expected.

"Second strike."

The iron knife met the twin blades once more. This time, Deathcarver stumbled back five steps. Chips appeared along the edges of both his blades.

"Third strike."

Matthew's voice remained as even as ever.

Snap!

Both of Deathcarver's blades shattered.