"Such terrifying force..."
Ronan's expression was grave, his chest heaving violently.
This brutal force was far greater than he had expected.
A random pirate leader possessed such immense strength?
If he had not used Collapsing Force to dissipate most of the impact just now, his arm would probably have been broken already.
But—
Ronan had also seen things clearly.
Though this pirate captain was strong, his moves were so straightforward they were nearly crude.
There was absolutely no technique to them.
He relied entirely on his physical body to fight head-on.
By comparison, Ronan's Force Guidance and Force Dissipation Counterattack had both reached their peak.
After probing out the truth, Ronan instead calmed down.
His strength was inferior? That did not matter.
Technique, speed, movement technique—those were Ronan's true killing weapons.
His breathing gradually steadied, and his mind entered a focused state once more.
He no longer intended to clash head-on. Instead, he would use his movement technique and force to tear this beast that knew only brute strength apart.
Just then—
"Ding!"
[System Notification: Host has entered Deathmatch State] [ Cultivation Multiplier ×5 ]
In an instant.
Ronan felt as though his body had been set ablaze.
Strength, speed, reactions, perception—
All of them surged dramatically, as though some invisible storm had pushed them to their peak!
His blood turned into magma and roared through his body.
Everything around him became extraordinarily clear at that moment.
Ronan raised his head.
A sharp glint flashed deep within his pupils.
The wind howled, and killing intent surged like a tide.
Ronan leaned slightly forward, his entire body like a sharp arrow about to shoot out—
The fivefold increase in cultivation power poured into Ronan's limbs and bones like a raging torrent.
His blood and vitality surged madly through him, while his muscles and bones crackled without end.
Wave after wave of heat rolled through his meridians, making him let out a long, incomparably satisfied breath.
Just then—
The attribute panel appeared on its own.
[Strength: 10 → 11] [Physique: 10 → 11]
The corner of Ronan's eye twitched slightly.
For the first time, he felt the tangible sensation of becoming stronger so clearly through battle.
Yet before he could examine it further.
That massive figure—
Had already pounced again!
"Kid! If this is all you've got, then die!!"
The Tattered Sails Captain roared. His arms bulged, and his broadsword tore through the air as it came slashing down once more with howling wind and thunder.
This time, it was faster, fiercer, and more ruthless than before.
But Ronan lightly shifted his feet and twisted his waist, his body drifting like smoke—
The broadsword slashed past his afterimage, sending spark-like shards of stone flying.
He had dodged it.
So easily that it was almost despairing.
Yet Ronan was not the least bit flustered. Instead, he calmly analyzed within his heart:
—My strength and physique have increased, but my speed and spirit have not.
—In other words, whatever is used and trained in battle is what the system strengthens.
A martial artist's intuition lit up within him.
Battle itself was cultivation.
"So that's how it is."
Ronan murmured inwardly, a sharp edge flashing through his eyes.
So, he began deliberately guiding the rhythm of the battle.
The pirate captain roared as he swung his blade, charging wildly like a heavily armored beast;
Meanwhile, Ronan's figure drifted unpredictably, weaving gracefully and lightly through the blade winds as though dancing in a storm.
Every dodge was clean and decisive;
Every sidestep landed at precisely the right moment;
It was like—
Walking a dog.
The pirate captain finally realized something was wrong, rage rushing to his head:
"You damned brat! Is running all you know how to do?!"
Ronan did not answer. He would not even spare him a glance.
He was focused on feeling—
The rhythm of his breathing, the pulse of his muscles, the explosive force of his joints, the shifting of his center of gravity with every step...
Those martial instincts that had once been hidden deep within him were now catalyzed by the fivefold multiplier into something incomparably vivid.
Suddenly, the system flashed again—
[Speed: 10 → 11]
A gleam flashed in Ronan's eyes:
"...Just as I thought."
In only a short time, his strength, physique, and speed had all increased by one point.
And this—
Was merely the beginning of the Deathmatch multiplier activating.
The wind roared. The pirate captain had nearly been driven mad by rage;
Yet Ronan's figure grew lighter and faster amid the flashing blade—
Ronan lightly dodged the incomparably heavy slash once again.
The blade edge howled past his ear, and even the wind it stirred made his hair flutter slightly.
Behind him came the pirate captain's furious curse, his chest heaving violently:
"You bastard brat! Stand—still!!"
But Ronan merely gave him a calm glance.
There was even a hint of... satisfaction in that look?
Because he suddenly felt that this idiot who knew nothing but swing a blade—was becoming much more pleasing to the eye.
As the first sparring partner to come knocking after his transmigration, and one strong to this extent, he was truly rare.
Ronan even felt a trace of gratitude in his heart:
You'd better hold on a little longer and let me train some more.
With that thought, he stopped avoiding him and instead—counterattacked.
The pirate captain had just finished his slash, his center of gravity tilted slightly. That instant of vulnerability became enormous and clear in Ronan's eyes.
Ronan tapped the ground and slid diagonally to the side like a wisp of smoke, evading the furious broadsword strike.
The next instant, the wooden staff trembled, force flowing into it as Spear Intent surged like a dragon.
Point, thrust, collapse!
The wooden staff burst forth like a flood dragon breaking through the sea, instantly piercing the pirate captain's chest!
"Urgh—!!"
The pirate captain grunted. His skin was pierced and droplets of blood sprayed out, but it did not penetrate flesh and bone as Ronan had expected.
The staff tip stopped beneath chest muscles as thick as iron plates, as though it had struck a wall of flesh.
His defense was absurdly strong.
Ronan frowned.
Was this the physique of people in this world?
If a trained martial artist from his previous life had been struck by that thrust, he would have likely died on the spot.
Yet this fellow before him merely hissed in pain. It was only an external injury.
The pirate captain roared as he counterattacked, sweeping his broadsword sideways with bone-chilling wind.
Ronan lowered himself and slid away again, like a fox entering the forest, easily avoiding it.
With a backhand motion—
He swung the wooden staff up, carrying Collapsing Force as it smashed viciously toward the pirate captain's head!
"Bang!!"
Amid the dull impact, the Captain's head snapped to one side, and a bloody gash instantly split open across his forehead.
And the wooden staff in Ronan's hand... had become shorter again.
The tip had shattered, splinters scattering everywhere.
Ronan's heart sank slightly:
The physical bodies of people in this world were far too monstrous.
At the same time—
The battle between Ronan and the pirate captain shook the entire town. Shouts of killing rang out without end, and the sounds of their fierce fight were like two savage beasts colliding.
Just then—
Several figures hurried over from the shadows outside the town.
Leading them was the old man who had escaped earlier. Behind him were his grandson, along with two men and a woman—
One of them was a black-haired youth wearing a Straw Hat.
"Don't worry, old man."
"We'll drive all those pirates away!"
Following at his side was a young man with short hair like green moss.
The muscles beneath his white T-shirt were clearly defined, while the Three Swords at his waist and green abdominal sash were particularly eye-catching.
He glanced sideways at the battlefield in town, his tone calm yet sharp:
"It's the Tattered Sails Pirates.
Their Captain has a bounty of 3.2 million Belly."
It sounded like he was merely stating a fact, but the naturally exuded presence made one feel an imposing aura being held back.
The Orange-haired Girl followed closely behind. Her slender waist was as nimble as a cat's, and there was a trace of gravity between her brows:
"Three million Belly is already considered very dangerous in the East Blue.
I heard the Tattered Sails Pirates once slaughtered a Marine outpost branch, which is why their bounty was raised."
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