Transmigrated with my corruption system

In the next instant, multiple explosions rang out from the collective force of the blows.

A shockwave spread for hundreds of meters, stirring dust and rubble wherever it passed.

The attacks were followed by a great silence. When the dust finally settled, Ulric’s eyes couldn’t help but widen slightly.

Thunderblade’s form still stood. His robe was torn in multiple places, but no grave injury had been dealt by the wave of attacks. Only small slash marks trailed across his torso, with thin lines of blood slowly dripping down.

Ulric breathed faintly.

Even though the odds were heavily stacked against him, the battle was not impossible.

Thunderblade, however, was far from pleased. His face twisted in rage. He hadn’t expected a youth who was clearly not even D-rank yet to injure him like this after his breakthrough.

Turning slowly, a smile still hovered on his face. What should have been deadly to him before had barely left scratch marks.

If this was the youth’s trump card, he could only imagine the look of despair that would soon appear on his face.

As he opened his mouth to speak, "See? Your attacks barely have any effect on me..." he muttered, before pausing.

The rest of his words froze in his throat when he saw the smile still plastered across Ulric’s face. Did he truly think he could still win?

The thought only stretched Thunderblade’s own smile wider. It was time to shatter that hope.

Raising his arm, arcs of lightning spread across it. With a wave, it crashed into Ulric’s chest with resounding force, moving at a speed the youth could barely register.

In the next instant, a shockwave exploded. Ulric was sent flying as cracking sounds echoed from his chest.

He crashed through building after building. The force of the blow didn’t diminish even as he planted his feet into the ground, carving trenches in an attempt to slow himself.

It was only after several hundred meters that he came to a skidding halt. His body collapsed to the ground, chest rising heavily, a few bones broken.

Before he could stand once more, Thunderblade was already upon him. The man’s brows arched slightly, the blow should have torn a clean hole through him.

But it had only broken a couple of bones. Looking closer, Ulric’s flesh felt like pure refined steel, enhanced to incredible levels.

It was too steady. A gleam of jealousy flashed in Thunderblade’s eyes. As if that wasn’t enough, the youth possessed a monstrous talent and now this stupidly strong physique. If he didn’t know better, he would have assumed the boy was the favored son of the heavens himself.

Rising to his knees, Ulric coughed violently, spitting out a stream of blood.

Thunderblade’s brows eased slightly. So he could bleed after all. A few more blows of equal magnitude and he would be finished.

"Do you see now?" Thunderblade muttered, about to boast that the previous strike had been barely half his strength.

Before a chuckle ripped from Ulric’s throat, spreading confusion across his face.

"I see," Ulric chuckled, almost threatening to break into another fit of maniacal laughter.

"I can finally see your battle style," he continued, waves of adrenaline pumping through him.

"Battle style?" Thunderblade murmured. What was that supposed to mean? He growled, growing more confused.

But Ulric paid him no mind, lost in his own thoughts. He had restrained himself from killing Thunderblade earlier, partly because he hadn’t yet grasped the man’s full combat rhythm.

Now, concentrating heavily through his spiritual field and analyzing every exchange, everything fell into place. A far more refined sequence integrated into his body, similar to how he had copied and refined Aelira’s style.

Thunderblade frowned, noticing the gleam of confidence in the youth’s eyes. He didn’t know what it meant, but it didn’t matter.

The battle had dragged on long enough. It was time to end it.

Raising his arm, he shot toward Ulric’s face with groundbreaking speed, expecting to land the hit before the youth could even react.

But just as the punch flew forward, he watched Ulric tilt his head from the exact spot he was aiming for.

The blow missed entirely. Before Thunderblade could swat his arm sideways, Ulric had already crouched low and landed a rapid slew of punches to his torso, forcing him back a step.

"This..." Thunderblade muttered, his brows fluttering rapidly. He was beginning to get an inkling of what the youth meant as the fight continued.

Despite being slower, Ulric was somehow dodging his attacks perfectly while countering with precision. As if that wasn’t frightening enough, the youth had begun scrambling his own attack patterns, striking randomly with no discernible rhythm.

But even then, it changed nothing. It was as if Thunderblade was fighting a clone of himself, only far better.

When the full magnitude of the situation slammed into him, he couldn’t help but yell out in frustration. Decades upon decades spent refining his craft... rendered obsolete in mere seconds as the youth acquired it, upgraded it, and now used it against him.

The sheer thought sent shudders down his spine. For the first time since the battle began, he caught a true glimpse of the youth’s potential.

And what he saw scared him.

If left to grow, he couldn’t even imagine the future power this monster would wield. Let alone Tempest, he doubted the entire realm of Arcadia would escape his grasp.

He was simply too monstrous and could not be allowed to live.

With that thought, Thunderblade swiped bolts of lightning in a haphazard manner, but watched as Ulric dodged them easily, as if they meant nothing.

Closing his eyes, Ulric tapped deeper into his spiritual field, absorbing Thunderblade’s enhanced battle style while dodging and sneaking in attacks between strikes.

There was no margin for error. A single mistake and he would be gravely wounded, limiting his combat ability and sealing his fate.

But even with all this, Ulric clenched his fists. He yelled inwardly, over and over:

More... I need more!

He had managed to dodge every attack through pattern recognition and precognition. But that didn’t mean he was winning.

All his counterattacks barely inflicted any damage, they seemed to bounce off the mystical energy now wrapping around Thunderblade since his breakthrough.

He needed something more than raw strength and speed to defeat him. Something else entirely without revealing all his trump cards to deliver the killing blow.

As the battle continued, he could feel the essence slipping from his grasp. So far, yet so close.

He was sure that if he could meditate on it, he could grasp it in a few days, a couple of weeks at worst.

But he didn’t have that much time. The battle was quickly turning into one of endurance. And with the massive reserves of a C-rank being, it was painfully clear who would come out on the losing side.

Staring at Thunderblade’s charging figure, Ulric clenched his fists and bit down hard on his tongue. Blood and pain pooled in his mouth, fighting off the waves of fatigue.

A new thought formed at the back of his mind.

It was time for a change of tactics. Time to embrace something far more radical.