Chapter 25: Last Man Standing (3)

As expected of the disciplined front line, a shield-bearing soldier blocked my path to protect the crossbowman.

In the meantime, a crossbow bolt curved around the soldier’s body, heading straight for me.

While this series of events unfolded in front of my eyes like a slow-motion scene, I thought of something amusing.

Smirk.

Before the crossbow bolt could touch me, I spun my body and easily dodged it.

As the bolt grazed past me, a burst of light enveloped my body.

It was like stage lighting or fireworks, sparkling brightly.

It was a simple application of a light magic spell.

Effect?

None.

But it looked cool.

As I dodged with a spin, I used the momentum to land a kick on the front soldier’s chin with my heel.

At the moment when my heel met his chin—

Boom!

With a burst of special effects, the soldier’s head snapped back.

[Wow! That was an artistic rolling kick! But what’s with that explosion? It looks incredibly painful!]

It was a technique Wolf occasionally used when landing a critical hit.

Whenever I pulled this off, the crowd would go wild.

The soldier, who never imagined I could attack and dodge at the same time, retired pathetically.

However, the crossbowman wasn’t one to be underestimated.

Even as her comrade collapsed, she fired a bolt right at the back of his falling head.

She probably calculated the time it would take for the bolt to reach me and aimed for the moment when his head dropped, trying to surprise me from my blind spot.

If I had been someone who relied on sight alone, it would’ve been an effective strategy.

But the magic and murderous intent infused in the arrow made it unnecessary to rely on my eyes.

Cue Allen’s slow-motion time.

I could dodge to the side, but doing so would give the crossbowman time to increase the distance between us.

And dodging like that wouldn’t be stylish.

So I decided to go straight for the crossbowman in a way she never expected.

I used the falling front soldier as a stepping stone and leapt straight at her.

The crossbowman, who had narrowed her focus on the crosshair, didn’t realize I was in the air until it was too late.

“Miriell! Above you!”

By the time she noticed me, my shadow was already looming over her.

I slammed into her body with full force.

As she tried to get up, I noticed her leg in front of me, so I hooked my leg over hers like a lever and pinned her down again.

I made sure to cross my arms in a stylish pose as I lay down.

Crack!

“Aaah!”

I heard something snap in her knee.

[From a body press to a seamless transition into a death lock! My eyes are in for a treat today!]

The more I listened to that commentator, the more I liked him.

I gave him a thumbs-up sign over my shoulder.

He grinned back and returned the gesture with a thumbs-up of his own.

Now the real show was about to begin. I grabbed her two legs, which were rendered useless under me, and lifted them.

As I spun my body, hers followed and began twirling as well.

Once enough momentum had built up, I let go, sending her body flying toward her comrades like a shot put.

But a normal Giant Swing would be boring, wouldn’t it?

“Huff!”

I adjusted my grip on her leg, which I had been spinning, and began swinging her like a nunchaku.

I slung her over my shoulder and side, spinning her once like pizza dough, before flinging her toward her comrades like a frisbee.

[Oh! That’s a legendary move you’d rarely see even in Wrestle Kingdom! The Bloody Canopy!]

Her comrades, who were rushing to help, stopped in their tracks to catch her flying body.

While they checked on her condition, I couldn’t resist flexing my arm muscles and tapping them, showing off.

The audience’s favor toward me increased dramatically.

“How could you do that to a lady!”

One of her comrades, who seemed close to her, shouted at me.

Though he misunderstood something—this was me being considerate.

If I had fully used the Bloody Canopy, her eyes, nose, and mouth would have bled, I would have tossed her between my legs for a humiliating moment, and then slammed her repeatedly into the ground for impact.

Blood would have poured out of every orifice in her body, enveloping me in a dome of blood—hence the name ‘Bloody Canopy.’

I couldn’t bear to use the full technique on a student, so I wrapped it up quickly.

The commentator seemed to get it too, shouting in my defense.

[This wasn’t even close to a full Bloody Canopy~! At best, you could call that a Mini Canopy!]

But that wasn’t what mattered to the frontliner.

All that mattered to him was that I had treated his comrade cruelly, and to him, I was the worst scum alive.

“To what extent do you plan to insult us?!”

Someone yelled at me from behind, but I ignored them.

Still, perhaps they had learned from their previous mistakes because they didn’t rush at me immediately.

However, with their only ranged attacker out, they had no choice but to approach me. They couldn’t just stand there forever.

‘Then I’ll make them come.’

I tore off my shirt and struck a bodybuilder pose.

But I made sure to show my back to them as I did so.

My provocation must have worked because I sensed someone approaching from behind.

I kept my focus on the crowd, not stopping my promotional performance.

Judging by the lack of a weapon, it seemed the person charging at me was a fellow fighter like me.

Well, I had the perfect move for that.

As he closed the distance, I kept performing for the audience.

Just a little closer.

Just a little more.

A bit more… Now!

Once he was at the right distance, I leaped backward and wrapped my arm around his neck.

In the process, I took a few hits to the side, but they were manageable.

As I fell backward, his body was pulled down with mine.

Unlike me, though, he fell head-first.

The impact from hitting the ground traveled through my arm and delivered a shock to his neck and jaw.

[RKO!!!!]

No explanation needed.

It wasn’t a Big Evil Wolf move, but it was a famous finisher in Wrestle Kingdom.

And the rule of thumb was, if you got hit by a finisher, you didn’t get back up.

Another frontliner down.

Now, only three first-years and one second-year remained.

At that moment, healing magic enveloped the student who had just been hit with the RKO.

“Huh?”

There’s one thing you should never do at a funeral—revive the dead.

Similarly, getting back up after taking a finisher without even planting a flag is bad etiquette.

‘This is your fault for killing him again.’

I pointed accusingly at the clueless priest who cast the healing spell, then brought my interlocked hands down on the fighter’s head as he tried to rise.

Boom!

With a massive flash that resembled an explosion, the boy’s body was sent flying into the air.

[Huh?]

“What the?!”

It must have been a strange sight.

Smashing someone’s head and making them bounce into the air like that.

Even for me, it’s a difficult move unless I get the angle just right.

I had adjusted the ground’s elasticity, turning it into a trampoline before slamming him down.

For those who didn’t know this, it must have looked like I was playing basketball with a human body.

By the way, this wasn’t a move from Wolf.

It was a finishing move developed by one of Wolf’s disciples, a wrestler who was a monkey beastman whose body could stretch and shrink.

That guy could pull off this move from ridiculous angles, but it was tough for me.

Anyway, I grabbed the boy, who was still airborne, and slammed him into the ground.

But I made sure to drop him with my knee under his spine.

Crack.

As a bonus, I added some crimson sparks around my knee, giving the illusion of blood to emphasize the technique’s power.

“Ugh…”

[Ugh… a backbreaker… It’s hard to even comment on that. My own spine is involuntarily curling up.]

Oops. That one might have been a bit too brutal.

Performance failure.

I scratched my head and gestured apologetically to the audience and the commentator.

The boy who had tried to revive went unnoticed and quietly disappeared.

Meanwhile, one of the second-years stood there, arms crossed, glaring at me. He seemed to think rushing me together with the others would look bad, or maybe he just wasn’t in sync with the underclassmen.

I tried provoking him by flicking my hand, but he only twitched an eyebrow and remained still.

“What a shame.”

In that case, I’ll make the first move!

I raised my arms in a victory pose, then charged toward the first-year who was clearly a mage.

Up until now, he hadn’t used magic, probably afraid of hitting his own teammates. But now that no one was around me, he didn’t hesitate to strike down a bolt of lightning.

How do you dodge lightning?

You don’t.

You just tank it.

Forcing my tingling muscles to move, I pushed through and charged toward the mage.

Unlike archers, mages are generally slow, and after casting a lightning spell, he needed some time to recover.

The two standing behind him, one holding a holy book and the other a dagger, were probably a healer and a rogue. But neither of them could hold the front line.

Without any interference, I reached the mage.

“<Frost>!”

Just before I got to him, he cast a spell to freeze my feet, but the difference in size and strength was too great. He couldn’t hold me.

I grabbed the weak mage by the waist, hoisted him over my shoulder, and pointed to the sky.

[Huh? What kind of move is this?]

Since this was a new move, I shouted its name to satisfy the commentator’s and the audience’s curiosity.

“Running Slam!”

Boom!

I charged forward with the mage and slammed him into the ground.

Then, I lifted him up again, pointed to the sky once more, and ran to the opposite side, slamming him down again.

For the final move, I ran back the other way, this time jumping high and delivering a piledriver.

After being slammed into the ground three times, the mage disintegrated into particles of light and vanished from the arena.

[Running Slam! Allen Price’s new finishing move! At this level, I dare say he could be a star in Wrestle Kingdom! Shouldn’t people be paying to see this?]

By now, all the audience had left for me were cheers and applause.

As I waved to the crowd, the second-year senior finally unfolded his arms and began to move.

It seemed he realized that with only a rogue and a healer left, it was time for him to step in.

“You certainly have the makings of a clown, freshman.”

He seemed to think he was taunting me, but in the current situation, where his underclassmen had been toyed with by this “clown,” it wasn’t cool or impressive, senior.

But his next words were enough to get on my nerves.

“Pro wrestling, huh. No matter how you dress up a useless martial art, a show is just a show.”

“This bastard…”

[What is that guy even talking about?]