Degrade from Nobility to a Humble Slave novel Chapter 398

"Boom, boom, boom!"

In an incredibly fast, almost thunderous speed, the demonic phantoms struck. After two rounds of being struck by three demonic phantoms, a defense song beside Dick cracked and began to disintegrate before falling apart. With only five defense songs around him, he could survive only eight or nine rounds of attacks by the demonic phantoms.

And considering the demonic phantoms' attack speed, he realized all his defense songs would be broken within a few moments. And if all the demonic phantoms hit on his body, Dick strongly doubted if he could survive even one round of the brutal attack!

At this time Dick was really in a fix. He not only needed to write kill songs, but also defense songs. Dick was in possession of a magic pen, was extraordinarily brilliant in writing and also was a great master of cursive script. However, right now, he was too busy on writing the defense song and kill song to care about maintaining the attractive sleekness of his words. Instead, every word was written askew, and there was nothing to suggest that a master of cursive script had actually written them.

In fact, Dick's hand was quivering violently even while writing. On any other day, he wouldn't write with such a shaky and unstable hand. At this moment, except pushing his life vitality to the limit, he cared about nothing.

Even though Dick urged his life vitality to the limit on writing, it couldn't keep up with the loss of the songs. The number of kill songs in the Thirteen Kills Array over there steadily dwindled, and so did the number of defense songs over here...

"One last defense song!"

A single defense song could only withstand two rounds of attack coming from the demonic phantoms. And owing to the increasing attack speed of the demonic phantoms, a defense song could be broken even in a breath's time. The demonic phantoms' power could never be estimated.

Dick who was always calm, composed and gentle was now in a mess. He gritted his teeth as a sense of anxiety gripped him.

A while ago, he had made full preparation for the All Peaks Competition while also learning a powerful method. But this was his trump card which he planned to use when fighting those personal disciples.

The sooner he revealed his trump card, the less likely he was able to win the battle over.

Once his unique skill was exposed, he would inevitably attract the personal disciples' attentions, who would then consequently figure out the corresponding attack, which was why Dick hesitated with his move.

'To yield?' murmured Dick in a tone laced with defeat.

To yield was just to put an end to his winning streak but he would still be left with a chance to return again.

But Dick rejected the idea instinctively and almost immediately. By the gentleman's doctrines he practised, he was absolutely not allowed to yield. With a truly upright vitality, he would not make a detour because of the hard and steep way; he would not retreat because of the times were dangerous. If he gave up and yielded at this moment, he would regret it for the rest of his life, and would never be able to forgive himself. Then how was he able to practice the gentleman's doctrines?