I Will Survive Till The End: Blood Extermination Academy-Chapter 80: Beauty & The Beast

Arc 2, Chapter 80 — Beauty & The Beast

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The Arena—It was a cathedral of heaviness, the air thick with anticipation.

Can you feel it? Can you feel their pulses rising and falling unnaturally?

The atmosphere was THRILLING.

Fufufufufu~

The host lounged on the ground with nonchalance, one leg crossed over the other and a microphone resting on his chest.

Then, digging his finger in his ear as if cleaning out wax, he sluggishly parted his lips.

"Alright," his voice drawled, his amplified voice cutting through the rowdy space like a blade. "Settle it down... this is the final matchup: Delweather Bottega vs Cerine Vanderflaux."

Their names echoed through the space like gunshots. The host hadn’t bothered to mention the full names of the many fighters before them. That alone spoke volumes, meaning they were worthy of remembrance.

Tch. What’s the point mentioning the full name of some dummy or weakling you’ll forget in a day or 2?

Many watching pulsated, now murmuring these names to heart.

’Delweather Bottega... Cerine Vanderflaux... ’

They had a feeling that they will be seeing more of these 2 in the future.

There was no cheering or clapping, as this wasn’t your typical arena filled with only onlookers.

They had their own pride, and wouldn’t cheer for just anyone, despite the person’s popularity. For the Strong, they don’t go around cheering like some little brat.

Nevertheless, during battles, if they see something shocking or striking, they would exclaim and show their appreciation.

A ripple coursed through the crowd, a primitive energy spreading out across their skins. Whether male or female, their eyes now gleamed with a hunger for violence and spectacle.

(Silence)

The space was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was the sort of silence that could crush a man’s soul. And then—

Din-din-din~

Soft footsteps echoed from the shadows, faint yet deliberate.

’It’s them!’ Levon’s heart raced.

It was them... Delweather Bottega and Cerine Vanderflaux.

Levon had to admit that they did look fascinating.

Delweather was a broad-shouldered, but lean and towering figure. Cerine on the other hand, had a graceful and breathtaking figure.

She wore high-heeled boots, probably the highest Levon had seen in a while. It was an audacious choice in his opinion, especially while living in a dangerous place like this.

Many females in the crowd were slightly impressed by how she could walk on those things day in and day out. But on Cerine, it seemed she was wearing flat boats. On her, they seemed less like footwear, and more like weapons of dominance.

Levon was a little dumbfounded.

It was amazing how Cerine was allowed to wear such heeled boots while here. It seems she couldn’t do without her heels... or would rather be caught dead without wearing them.

Cerine was a living masterpiece, her every action was like watching a painting come to life.

Her elegance and poise was hard to overlook. Even Levon had to admit that she made his gaze linger on her a little more than he usually would.

Her luscious hair was also very well maintained, placed in 2 pigtails on the sides of her head, with the falling blind hair looking like giant drills. She looked like a doll.

She had a pair of black stud earrings that paired beautifully well with her short uniform skirt and knee-length high-heeled boots.

’Well, isn’t she a Princess...’

That was the first thought Levon and many others thought.

However, no one dared to mistake her for some dainty lady.

If she’s among the top Two Bloodren 9s, then she is definitely no ordinary princess.

Cerine Vanderflaux.

Levon memorized this name to heart.

Listening from the murmurs of those around him... it seemed everyone else called her Princess too.

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Pulling his gaze away from Cerine, Levon scrutinized her opponent even further.

Delweather Bottega.

He truly looked like a hillbilly, a stark contrast to Cerine’s aristocratic aura.

Levon felt that it was incredible that they were wearing the same style of uniform, except for the fact that theirs had no stripes compared to Bloodren 9s.

But somehow, Delweather still made the attire look like a farmer’s working clothes. Well, he looked like he just strolled off a farm somewhere around ground.

He didn’t like wearing boots and stuck with just walking around barefoot. One can imagine how strong his underfoot must have become under such a habit.

His uniform pants were also rolled up, all the way to his knees... as though he was about to go fishing in some lake.

No wonder he was nicknamed Farm Boy by the audience.

He had a stalk of hay in his mouth and a straw hat.

Now, coupled with the fact that he was barefoot and had his trousers rolled up to his knee, who wouldn’t call him a Farm Boy?

The pair made an absurd sight as they strode side by side toward the center of the arena: beauty and beast, grace and grit, predator and prey—or so it seemed at first glance.

They stopped abruptly, their synchronized movements suggesting an unspoken understanding despite their ’rivalry.’ Each took 2 paces black before locking eyes.

Hmph! Cerine scoffed, rolling her massive googly eyes in childish disdain. The duo made a funny pair when walking side by side toward the very center of the arena.

"Farm boy, I won’t let you get the best of me this time..." She growled arrogantly. "You’re nothing but a fly to me!"

"Really?"

Delweather chuckled—a low teasing rumble escaping his lips. "Well now, little Miss Princess, if you could actually defeat me... I’d be Number 2, instead of number one, no?"

"Why you—" Cerine’s eyes glowed with fury.

"Fighters," the Host interrupted with an exaggerated yawn. "Are you going to get on with it? Or are we here for tea time or something?"

His words hung in the air for barely a second before detonating like dynamite:

"FIGHT!"

The transformation was instantaneous. The playful banter evaporated as both fighters exploded into motion.

In perfect unison, they executed consecutive backflips, creating distance between time in a heartbeat... And then—the fun began.

Before Levon could react, Delweather’s weapon materialized.

It was A Death Synth that seemed to have been forged from nightmares themselves.

Levon felt he wasn’t hallucinating. Its dark metal gleamed under lights, as if drinking in their glow.

’So awesome?’ Levon and other newbies had to admit they were impressed.

Cerine followed suit, her foldable V-shape Comb shimmering into existence in her hand. It was a bizarre yet beautiful creation whose bladed teeth glinted wickedly underneath the lights.

My, my, my...

Levon’s lips twisted into an unnatural grin, his heart now boiling endlessly.

"This," he murmured to himself, "is going to be good."

Somebody help him. He seemed to be in blissful ’high’.

’Could this be what it feels like to be high on drugs?’

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Swish!

The duo charged like rhinoceros, their weapons cutting through the air with enough force to send ripples of energy flying back.

Cerine moved first. That’s right, the Princess made the first move. She moved in a blur of maroon, so fast it left afterimages behind.

SO FAST!

Her comb sliced through the air with deadly precision, each swing accompanied by a haunting whistle that sent chills down the spines of many... Chills of excitement!

Boom!

The concrete floors cracked and flew high from the ripples alone.

Almost immediately, a thin fragment of concrete shot like a bullet right for Levon, despite how high up they sat.

’Duck!’

Levon’s ball on his throat, rolled up and down when thinking of how close he was to death.

But then again, isn’t the constant danger what makes it truly amazing to be here?

Ting! Ting! Ting!

The clash of metal echoed across all corners, as the duo on the stage moved with blurred motion.

It was incredible. One moment, Cerine high up in the air appeared behind Delweather, sweeping her giant comb bristles towards his head.

—And in another moment, Delweather performed a crude backflip, landing on her comb while sending a slash of his own at Cerine.

"Buddy, I think I’m in love," Shugo blurted, when seeing Cerine counterattack in the last second.

She might be an arrogant princess, but her fighting prowess was insane!

But Delweather wasn’t simple either. He still had a playful smile, laughing and joking around with every counterattack or attack he launched.

Their every action was coated with pure violence and killing intent. Yet neither showed signs of slowing down anytime soon!

Instead, they simply grinned wickedly at each other before charging forward again and again, each time unleashing even greater carnage on the stage.

Their battle was poetry in violence: Cerine’s elegance countering Delweather’s peasantry ways. Her precision matched by his unpredictability, sent sparks flying not just in the air, but in the hearts of many.

Levon’s toes curled, as his dark eyes drank in every movement.

This wasn’t just a fight—it was a dance of destruction, a ballet of brutal mathematics where speed and power calculated their deadly equations!