Chapter 23: Exchange Between Races

"Take this!"

"Hahaha.....what a useless attack! Try my giant hammer!"

"Ahhhhh!"

The first battle of the Battle of Wars, the Battle of Might started with a group skirmish.

Screams and pain filled cries rang out the stadium as claws slashed and fangs ripped off necks from their bodies. Blinding lights of magic and spells span about hurling bodies into the air as shapes shifted from humans to wild beasts in midair.

Boom!

Bang!

Roar!

Growl!

Boom!

Ahhh!

The more blood split, the fiercer and more violent the entanglement became. The greater the entanglement, the more blood split.

There was no longer any sanity left in the creatures.

Blood lust and madness intermingled together, devouring any last shred of restraint or self-control that chained the feral beasts inside their hearts. Their blood boiled at the scent of the metallic liquid as their souls surged at the sight of the flowing red river.

Soon, sticky blue, black, and red blood soaked and dripped from the already crimson soil of the arenas, turning them an even brighter shade of red.

Corpses littered half the grounds of the six stages like strings of frail pearls, brutally wrenched and mutilated beyond recognition.

On the first arena, Eeguro's muscles flexed as he swung his giant hammer at the vampire that lunged at him. His giant figure made it difficult for him to respond to his swift attacks, almost resulting in causing his own demise in their many exchanges, however, what he lacked in speed, he made up for it in strength.

"Stop right there!"

The second the vampire flashed pass his attack, he smashed his giant hammer on the ground, cracking the whole arena floor apart. The vampire's figure paused, before appearing unveiled in front of his strongest competitor.

Just as Eeguro was about to move to finish the beast off, a rancid acidic smell assaulted his nostrils.

Dazedly, he lowered his head in disbelief and he saw the place where his heart should have been, had now gained a gaping hole that was quickly expanding to the rest of his body.

"Impossible...how can I be defeated so easily?"

With a thud, his giant body fell to the ground. His eyes turned milky gloss while his vitality seeped out into the cement floor.

Before long, nothing remained of the Frightening Giant except for his lonely hammer.

Mike watched the powerless form of the scary Giant that gave him a headache with his insurmountable strength, disappear from the Nar realm forever due to an ugly Ogre's acid vomit.

"I cannot have such an ending. I need to move with caution and care."

With such a prime example of kill or be killed in front of his very eyes, he did not dare to let his guard down or underestimate any enemy of a lesser race.

Because in a battle to the death, no enemy was lesser being as long as they had the ability to kill you and wipe out your existence.

With that train of thought, he got up resolutely and charged. Only this time, his attacks and defenses were even more tight, his approach more cautious as he evaded and flashed through a crowd of Dwarfs and Satyrs that chased after him.

Bang!

The grotesque figure of a minotaur roughly crashed to the ground as a two-headed demon with long spear in his hand stamped towards him. The figure struggled to get back on his feet, fight for his only chance at survival.

"There is no point. It's over."

Wack!

Thud!

A head rolled and blood sprouted like a fountain. The struggling minotaur was now nothing but a headless, his head kicked off the arena like a useless flame rock.

An eagle flew with a flock of peguman hot on his tail. The two races' took the sky as their battleground, their wings flapping and beating as they sent gales of windstorm in the air, hindering everyone's vision.

Before the crowd could figure out what was going on, the team of peguman were bleeding and screaming as if their entire family were exterminated before their very eyes.

It might as well have been, because soon, their screams turned into shrill shrieks as blood gushed out of their eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

In the next instant, they froze, still as statues.

You are reading story Brewing Storm at novel35.com

Their statue forms were the only remainder of their existence in the Nar realm.

La, la, la, la.

Dark musical notes floated the air, the sirens sweet melody lulling everyone into dreamland. Vigilance relaxed, many dinymphs closed their eyes in relaxation and enjoyment.

Before long, white-gray smoky substance flowed out of the top of the dinymphs heads and their bodies fell in succession like dominos pushed over.

Bright lights glowed and the ranging of the dark melody continued to spread through the stadium as the competitors eyes turned turbid.

"Do not listen to the her enchantment! Shift your attention elsewhere!" The shout shattered the spell the creatures were pulled into, like a rock smashing on the surface of a fragile glass.

"Enchantress, how dare you try to cloud our minds! I will have your blood!"

"Kill her! Once she is gone, our ordeal will be less draining."

"Let's go all out!"

Chaos and even darker magic spells were cast heightening the bloodthirst to the extent where lives were reaped like flame grasses and smoke weeds.

"Ahhh!"

After their extreme training in the underground cell, the werewolves seemed to be the only ones navigating through the macabre with ease. The minimen were swept to the side by their tails like ash fleas and numb flies.

In the audience, the Satyr looked at the stunned Hobbit with glee.

"Do you see it now? Do you finally understand why barely any beast chose the Werewolf clan stage?"

"But, how is that possible? Even the ring leaders on the other five stages are not as frightening as the werewolves. But why? They are all from the Six Supreme Clans!" The young Hobbit could not understand what was going on.

How could there be such a drastic difference in strength?

"Sigh, isn't that the scariest part? Well, imprint in your mind and remember well. You can pick on the beasts from the other five clans. But even by mistake, do not pick a fight with a werewolf. Because even one is enough to take down ten lesser race creatures."

"Woahhh!" The young Hobbit could only stare, stupefied with the sudden revelation.

Back on the Werewolf stage, the selkies were the only ones left on the fighting ring, still desperately struggling as if their lives depended on it.

And in a way, it did.

"Shield! Keep shielding! We have to keep on shielding until the end." Ash shouted to his elven brothers as more and more bodies dropped to the ground.

They had the worst of luck this year.

Fifteen days before the start of the Battle of Might, their tribe was encircled by a pack of vampires that feasted on their kin like snacks as they snatched, drained, and throwed them out like used rags.

As a lesser race, they didn't have the qualifications to go against their masters wishes.

Moreover, as long as a beast belonged to a lesser race, they were nothing but servants, slaves, and food.

As such, the elven tribe, which was almost double the size of the merfolk group, was instantly reduced to such a scant amount that they could barely resist the assault of the selkies.

Furthermore, the brown creatures were just as aggressive and violent by nature as the monsters from the Demon clan's Demon Faction.

Now, in order to prevent their race from going extinct, they could only defend until the bitter end.

Versailles swept her tail around the fledglings, effortlessly pushing back the assaulting merfolk.

This was one of the many disparities between the races. Both in group or individual battles, those at the bottom were always weaker in strength compared to those at the top.

"Hisss!"

"I have no issues with a snake tail, but having snakes for hair? Disgusting!" Merina exclaimed with repulsion as she gazed at the slithering snakes on the gorgon's head. The many tiny creatures and their creepy eyes disgusted her.

"What does it matter if it is disgusting or wonderful. At the end of the day, if you are weak because of your pretty tail, you will only end up as fish stake on another race's dinner table." The gorgon shot back in scorn, obviously stung by the Mermaid's remark, but showing otherwise.

Her eyes swept over the pretty dull red hair of the beast, as envy and hate surfaced in her eyes.

She could not understand how some creatures could be concerned about their looks when living and surviving depended on the vilest and most deadliest of abilities.

Shaking her head in disdain, she charged forth. She intended to bring the fish to her knees, crying and begging for her life, when a shadow loomed above her head.

"No!" Was the last cry she made as her figure fell backwards.

Her eyes still stretched wide in disbelief, the venomous gorgon breathed her last.

You can find story with these keywords: Brewing Storm, Read Brewing Storm, Brewing Storm novel, Brewing Storm book, Brewing Storm story, Brewing Storm full, Brewing Storm Latest Chapter