Veilbreaker! Oops I Bleed Again
Chapter 66: Plavius

Chapter 66: Plavius

The once-pristine training hall was a mess.

The ground was shattered, cracks sprawling across the floor like battle scars. Debris littered the area, and the air was thick with dust.

Many of the spectators had already fled—not out of boredom, but out of fear.

The battle had escalated far beyond a simple assessment.

Yet, Plavius refused to stop.

Like a relentless boxer, he lunged forward once more—

"BOOM!"

A powerful right hook came crashing down, sending shockwaves through the floor.

Draven swiftly jumped back, landing lightly on his feet.

His Dark eyes narrowed.

’This guy... this isn’t an assessment anymore. He’s fighting with everything he has.’

Plavius exhaled sharply, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"How long do you plan on dodging?" he growled. "You think you can tire me out just by evading?"

Draven smirked.

"Oh? So you figured it out?"

Plavius’ muscles tensed.

"I’m not an idiot." His voice was laced with irritation. "You’re the strongest among the three. You’re just stalling—waiting for me to exhaust myself so the other two can finish me off."

Draven chuckled. "That’s cute. But no."

Plavius frowned. "What?"

Draven’s grin widened. "You see... I’m just playing with you."

Plavius’ eyes twitched in frustration.

Draven raised a finger and pointed at Bella and Deka. "And, actually... even if you fought them, you still wouldn’t be able to beat them."

"Tch—!"

Plavius’ veins bulged.

[ENRAGE!]

A burst of raw power surged through his body.

His muscles expanded, veins pulsing with unnatural energy.

"WHOOSH!"

In an instant, he dashed forward. His strikes came like a furious storm—fists, elbows, knees—a barrage of relentless attacks.

Draven no longer dodged.

Instead, he blocked, parried, and countered.

The sound of fists colliding with forearms echoed like a drumbeat.

’He’s getting stronger.’ Draven noted.

Then—

A blur.

Draven’s fist shot forward.

A jab—fast, precise, and nearly invisible.

CRACK!

It connected cleanly with Plavius’ temple, stunning him for a fraction of a second.

It was enough.

Draven twisted his hips—

"BOOM!"

A brutal left hook smashed into Plavius’ ribs.

His eyes bulged as air violently left his lungs.

Then—

He flew backward.

"CRASH!"

His body slammed into the wall, leaving behind a deep crater of broken stone.

Silence.

The crowd stared, wide-eyed.

Plavius... was getting beaten.

Then—

A sound.

A deep, guttural growl.

The moment the dust settled—

[ENRAGE II!]

"ROOOOOOAAAAAARRR!"

The wall cracked and exploded.

Plavius emerged—his body transformed.

His arms and chest were now covered in thick fur, and his fingers had become razor-sharp claws.

His pupils were now slits.

He wasn’t just a man anymore.

He was a beast.

"THUD!"

In an instant, he vanished—

Then reappeared in front of Draven.

"SLASH!"

Draven’s body soared through the air, crashing into the opposite wall.

The training hall trembled.

"Now you’ve done it."

Draven’s voice was calm, but cold mist began to seep from his body. Blood dripped from the fresh slashes on his arms.

With one step, the entire ground froze solid—ice rapidly spreading beneath everyone’s feet.

The spectators gasped as they suddenly found themselves unable to move.

Even Plavius’ feet were trapped in ice.

"Tch!"

Draven vanished.

Plavius shattered the ice, his enhanced body moving instinctively. He lunged forward, meeting Draven head-on.

A clawed strike tore through the air—

"BAM!"

But instead of flesh, his attack hit nothing.

Draven’s image shattered like ice, dispersing into cold mist.

"What the—?!"

A sudden chill crept up Plavius’ spine.

His instincts screamed—danger behind him.

Too late.

Draven was already in position, his arm cocked back, ready to deliver the final blow.

"Make sure you survive this."

But—

A hand tapped his arm.

A voice—calm, composed.

"Okay, that’s enough."

Draven’s eyes widened.

His body tensed as he turned—

A well-built man stood beside him. Short black hair, an army-style cut, dressed in a military-style brown uniform with rolled-up sleeves.

’What the hell? Where did he come from?’

Draven’s mind raced.

’I didn’t sense him at all.’

’Was I too focused on the bear?’

’Did he use teleportation? Blink?’

’No—Even then, I should’ve felt something.’

’F*ck... Even without an intent to attack, I should have noticed him.’

Before Draven could react further, Sarah stepped forward.

Plavius exhaled and slowly reverted to normal.

Then—both of them bowed.

"Welcome back, Guild Master."

The man nodded, shifting his gaze back to Draven, who was still processing how the hell this guy got behind him.

"Young man," the Guild Master spoke, "Can you remove the ice?"

Draven snapped out of his thoughts.

He looked around—several adventurers were still trapped, their feet frozen in place.

With a sigh, he lifted his hand—and in an instant, the ice melted away.

Plavius, still bowing, spoke up.

"Apologies for the damage I caused."

The Guild Master glanced at the wrecked walls and let out a chuckle.

"Looks like you caused quite the mess." He smirked. "I’ll be deducting this from your salary."

A few adventurers snickered in the background.

Plavius winced but nodded. "Yes, sir. I won’t let it happen again."

Draven speak up.

"So... what happens to our rank-up?"

The Guild Master glanced at him, then gave a small nod.

"Go wait in my office. We’ll process your rank-up there." He turned to Sarah. "Lead them."

Sarah nodded.

Draven, and the others followed her out of the battlefield.

"But Guild Master, I’m not done with the other two!"

Plavius protested, frustration evident in his voice.

"I haven’t assessed them yet. I still need to break that bastard’s confidence."

The Guild Master let out a chuckle.

"What are you saying?" He smirked. "If I hadn’t stopped the fight, you’d either be dead or bedridden by now."

Plavius felt a cold sweat run down his back.

He turned to Draven, his mind racing.

The Guild Master never joked when it came to battle.

If he said it, it was the truth.

"Is he... really that strong?"

The Guild Master’s gaze remained steady.

"If I were to duel him, he could keep up with me."

Plavius’ eyes widened in shock.

"That’s impossible, Guild Master!" His voice was laced with disbelief. "Only a Head Commander can fight on your level!"

He looked at Draven again—

This young man who had treated the fight like a game.

And yet—

The Guild Master himself had just compared him to a Head Commander.

Plavius clenched his fists.

For the first time in a long while—

He felt something unsettling deep inside him.

Fear.