Mech: Shattering of the Galaxy Chapter 1579 - 95: Not What a Hero Would Do!

A prolonged silence descended.

Isaiah looked intently at Mu Fan, and only when he perceived the young man's unwavering resolve did he place a firm hand on Mu Fan's shoulder.

"This grassland is so immense that I haven't been able to traverse its entirety in all my years."

"It is precisely because I have resided here for so long that I comprehend this land so thoroughly. Should I agree with you today, it would only serve to endanger our esteemed guest."

"The Beast Tide is not as feeble as one might assume, and the Red Stone Clan is far more formidable than initially perceived..."

A gentle smile graced his lips, yet the significant blood loss left him appearing rather pale.

"Uncle Isaiah, please sit down at once," Nuonuo urged, her voice tinged with anxiety, but her plea was dismissed with a wave of Isaiah's hand.

"Your destination lies far beyond the celestial bodies above. Heed the counsel of one who has weathered many storms: if you possess the means to depart, then take Miss Nuonuo with you."

"Should escape prove impossible, consider relocating with the White Armor Tribe or identifying a secure haven before the impending conflict."

"You must absolutely evade the cataclysmic impact of the Beast Tide!!"

Having spoken, Isaiah turned his earnest gaze towards Mu Fan. In response, however, he received only a gentle shake of Mu Fan's head.

"To retreat in the face of adversity is not the path of a true hero."

This declaration finally halted Isaiah's attempts at dissuasion. He reassessed Mu Fan with an assessing stare.

Were it not for the prominent scars adorning his face, Mu Fan's words might have carried the simple valor of youth.

However, juxtaposed with those scars, Mu Fan's pronouncements exuded an innate, mature aura.

Once his mind was set upon a course of action, achieving his objective became an unyielding pursuit.

The statement held a dual significance, and as the Clan Leader, Isaiah was no mere brawler; thus, he did not take offense at the remark.

Furthermore, under Mu Fan's persistent gaze, Isaiah lowered his eyes.

"I am..."

But before he could utter another word, the tent flap was abruptly flung aside!

"Retreating from hardship? The White Armor Tribe is composed of warriors who know no fear of death."

"Do you presume that donning that peculiar armor and felling a Rock Armor Giant Rhinoceros makes you an unparalleled force upon this vast expanse?"

An irate voice boomed from outside the tent, and a tall, powerfully built figure strode in with a gust of wind. His sharp, piercing eyes beneath sword-like eyebrows were fixed intently on Mu Fan.

It seemed as though any minor disagreement could immediately ignite a confrontation.

"Alva! What is the meaning of this! Since when did I permit your entry?"

Isaiah's countenance contorted with anger as he addressed Alva.

Alva cast a hostile glance at Mu Fan, then directed a look of displeasure towards Isaiah, who was subtly clutching his chest, before executing a polite bow towards Nuonuo.

"On this Nightfall Prairie, which tribe is unaware of the White Armor Tribe's renowned valor! He is merely an outsider who has garnered fleeting attention; what right does he possess to speak so presumptuously in our midst?"

Alva stood a head taller than Mu Fan, and at that moment, his imposing presence radiated an aura akin to that of a cornered tiger.

"And you engage in such veiled insults. According to the established customs of the prairie, no altercations are permitted within the Star Tent. You initiated this entire disturbance; on what grounds do you now presume to critique our White Armor Clan!?"

"Do you truly believe your strength is so exceptional? Cast aside that armor, and you couldn't even defeat me!"

Alva's fury had evidently reached its zenith.

Nuonuo stood transfixed, gazing at the rugged young man with an expression of sorrowful disbelief, murmuring, "Big Brother Alva..."

"Enough! Alva, are these the words you choose to utter!"

A thunderous roar finally erupted within the confines of the tent.

Isaiah trembled with rage, emphatically pointing towards the exit, "Be gone."

Yet, Alva remained resolute, meeting Isaiah's glare with a defiant challenge, "You are welcome to don that armor yourself and face me; only then will you comprehend the absurdity of your position!"

"I shall await you outside. Should you not emerge within ten breaths, you may depart of your own accord. The White Armor Clan extends its welcome only to those who approach with goodwill!"

With that, Alva turned and exited the tent.

He cast a sneering glance at Mu Fan's face, emitting a cold snort.

Throughout the entire exchange, Mu Fan observed Alva with composed serenity, offering neither retort nor defense.

Just as Alva's figure was about to pass through the tent's threshold, Mu Fan's steady, calm voice resounded:

"If a duel is what you seek, I shall oblige."

"Should I be defeated, I will offer my apologies to you and to the entirety of the tribe."

"But if I prevail..."

Mu Fan deliberately unfastened his shirt, gradually revealing a physique sculpted with sharp, impeccably proportioned muscles.

"Hahaha! Very well, if you are victorious, your word shall be absolute!"

Alva bellowed with laughter, pulling aside the tent flap for his exit. He glanced back, his rugged breath carrying an unmistakable undercurrent of untamed excitement.

"Then you would do well to learn how to express yourself with proper decorum."

Mu Fan casually shed his outer garment, fully exposing his muscular frame, marked by a network of scars.

He gently handed the clothes to Nuonuo’s palm.

Mu Fan’s eyes lifted calmly to look ahead.

"I, am, waiting, for, you." With these words said, Alva left the tent.

"My lord, don’t go, why did it suddenly come to this... Big Brother Alva is not usually like this... I will go explain," Nuonuo said with some sorrow, and was about to move over.

But Mu Fan gently pressed her delicate shoulder.

"... My lord?"

"I know."

What?

Nuonuo’s eyes widened instantly.

"But this is a man’s fight."

"My Nuonuo is always one of a kind."

"This time, for you."

Nuonuo stood dazed in place, looking at Mu Fan’s back, feeling at a loss for a moment.

"For... me?"

She murmured softly.

"Alright, it would be best if that brat Alva could resolve his inner conflicts after this fight. Let them be, haha, this is what being a real man is all about."

"Mu Fan really cares about you, doesn’t he."

"But if he doesn’t wear that armor, I really can’t say for sure."

"Brother Mu does have a fiery temper, that’s something I didn’t see coming..."

Isaiah stroked his chin, pondered for a moment, and then pushed these thoughts aside, muttering as he walked out.

Upon hearing this, Nuonuo instantly understood, her face flushed red, and she anxiously stomped her feet, hurriedly running out.

They were clearly discussing the tribe’s migration, how did it suddenly become like this?

And Brother Alva, she had always turned him down.

How could Mu Fan so easily go out and get into a fight with someone?

Hmph... it’s still that style of never giving anyone a moment of respite.

Big Barbarian Bear!!

Nuonuo was filled with worry.

After all, Alva’s strength had already been displayed vividly during the last battle against the Beast Tide.

The warriors of the White Armor Tribe all possessed incredible strength.

Once it involved Mu Fan, all of Nuonuo’s calm and composure were thrown aside.

Amidst the instantly boiling shouts outside, Nuonuo rushed to the edge of the large tent, suddenly lifting the curtain.

...

The busy people of the White Armor Clan, at this moment, all put down what they were doing, spontaneously spreading out into a large circle, leaving an open ring-shaped area.

Torches were lit and placed all around at this time.

The crowd, not understanding the situation, grew larger and larger.

"What happened? Alva actually wants to have a fight with someone here?"

When they saw Alva take off his animal skin coat, the cheers in the tribe reached their peak.

Everyone’s face shone with excitement.

This is the Torch Duel.

A performance almost inevitable during the White Armor Tribe’s celebrations.

Difficult to see on ordinary days.

So they couldn’t help but be excited.

The War God of the young generation, Alva, and the new powerful guest, this was a once-in-a-lifetime showdown!

Alva received a one-handed axe and a shield handed over by his companion behind him, looked at the crowd’s eager eyes, and couldn’t help but howled toward the sky.

"Hoo!"

"Hoo! Hoo!"

Echoing shouts from all around.

Lance, who had just completed a task transfer, stared dumbfoundedly at the two in the field, stammering with his mouth, "Mu, Mu Brother, why are you going to fight with Alva?"

However, his companion also had no time to respond to him, as everyone’s eyes were focused on the center of the field.

At this moment, Alva heavily collided the axe and shield in his hands.

Boom!

Although the weapons looked like white bones, they emitted the sound of clashing metal.

Neither metal nor bone-like.

The heavy yet not dull sound immediately quieted down the surrounding noise.

Amidst the crackling sound of burning torches, Alva stared at Mu Fan approaching from the opposite side, lifted his chin, and spoke arrogantly: "Pick up your weapon, and face me like a man!"

"Let me see your strength... and see if you can back up your words! I’ve wanted to fight you from the start." Alva’s mouth curved into a mocking arc, his voice uncompromising, "Put on your armor!"

"I intended to do just that."

A calm voice spoke from Mu Fan, who walked out from the shadows illuminated by the firelight, his scarred and well-muscled torso instantly aroused a sense of recognition among the tribe members.

Scars are the medals of a warrior.

So they were even more eager for the upcoming battle.

Mu Fan slowly drew the Dark Gold Short Stick from behind his waist.

Bare-chested, holding what seemed to be a dull, lifeless short stick, Mu Fan’s aura gradually calmed down, until everyone suddenly discovered in shock that if they didn’t look closely, they might even think a statue was standing there.

"However... since it’s a fight between men, wearing armor would be..."

"Too unfair to you!"

With a booming sound,

the ground under Mu Fan’s feet instantly surged up a wave of dust.

Three deep impressions, each twenty meters apart, were etched into the ground in mere moments.

Mu Fan contorted his frame, launching himself skyward. The fleeting image of him wielding the stick with a single hand solidified for an instant, then...

he descended with crushing force!

Alva reacted with haste, raising his shield.

The Curved Light Scythe Blade, not yet fully energized, met the shield's surface under the immense pressure exerted by Mu Fan.

Boom!

Debris erupted around the two nimble figures as rubble immediately soared upward.

Alva's feet, firmly planted, did not budge, yet they were driven a full ten centimeters into the earth.

"Is that the extent of your power? If so, how do you intend to face the Beast Tide!"

Alva's arms suddenly bulged, and he thrust them outwards.

Meanwhile, Mu Fan, locked in a downward pressing stance with one arm, felt an overwhelming force surge from the base of his weapon.

With a resounding thud, Mu Fan's right hand, and indeed his entire body, was violently shoved aside!

As he retreated step by step, Mu Fan observed clearly that the shield had sustained only a minor indentation from his powerful swing...

Could this material be bone, or perhaps metal?!

How could it possess such unparalleled hardness?!