American comic book: Transmigrated into Dior and adopted by the Wayne family

Clang!

Two longswords of vastly different styles clashed violently together.

The rising flames collided with the rain, and the steam rose up, blurring the faces of the two people completely.

The Angel of Death, Azrael, parried the flaming sword, but suddenly lost his grip and dodged to the side.

This is a common technique for deflecting force and dodging, making it ideal for counterattacking.

However, the scenario I had imagined—that the opponent would lose control of their power—did not occur.

"Is this all you've got?"

Dio scoffed and easily parried a sword strike coming from the side.

A silver chariot appeared instantly, and a rapier spun as it thrust towards the gap between the mask and the hood.

"What?!"

Azrael's pupils contracted sharply, and a chill ran down his spine.

His more than ten years of martial arts experience honed his sense of danger.

Although the Stand cannot be seen, the attack can be sensed.

The two swords separated as soon as they touched.

Azrael hastily blocked the unseen rapier and quickly retreated.

"Some kind of guardian spirit? It's very fast, faster than me."

He subconsciously moved his gauntlet—it turned out that when the window was broken, it wasn't an illusion; an attack had actually hit his gauntlet.

"But its offensive power is lacking, and this feeling... is it a rapier?"

"Who knows? Maybe it's an axe, maybe a spear, or even a dagger."

Dio's lips curled into a smile as he secretly gathered intelligence.

The opponent was extremely strong, but he had just learned how to use ripples to deflect force by falling from a great height.

So there's no need to worry too much about this.

My advantage lies in the hidden trump card of the Golden Experience, and the Ripple Amplifier of Aja Redstone.

The opponent's advantages are indestructible armor, unparalleled strength, tireless endurance, and a sword that renders one incapable of fighting upon contact.

Killing him is unrealistic, but he won't kill me either—because I am the son of Gotham, and he wants to sacrifice me.

"No need for analysis, Gotham's son. You're thinking about how to ambush me with that rapier, aren't you?"

Azrael stretched his shoulders and walked over step by step.

"You do have some swordsmanship skills; your teacher was a master swordsman, but..."

"Time and experience are an insurmountable gap between us."

"Yeah?"

Dio admitted he was right, but—what if he wasn't the one wielding the sword?

"Well then! Now I'm going to use the ultimate move that will finish you off, Azrael!"

He smiled confidently and suddenly threw the flaming sword into the air.

A flash of silver light.

The silver chariot gripped the hilt of the sword.

"Can you handle this move?"

Dio freed his hands, activating his Ripple and Spider-Sense to perceive everything around him.

A silver chariot blocked the way, a rapier in the right hand and a flaming sword in the left, the two swords spinning nimbly.

The sound of wind breaking came whistling in, and the raindrops in the air were spun around with it.

"This is... you're showing off your skills?"

Azrael watched in disbelief as his flaming sword was grasped and spun by an unseen force.

Some rainwater was even swept and rolled by an invisible force.

"Silver Chariot, and Flame Sword!"

"Dual-wielding!!!"

An attack twice as fierce as before came rushing towards us.

"Damn it!"

Azrael now has to fend off the faster-slashing flaming swords while also guarding against the unseen rapiers.

"What's wrong? Are you asleep, Angel of Death?"

Dior casually crossed his arms, glancing at him sideways as if he were an ant.

"Hmph."

The advantage of having a stand-in is that the original user can pose in the background.

You country bumpkin! Hahahaha!

Damn blondie!

Azrael gritted his teeth, finding it increasingly difficult to parry.

That unseen rapier was like a venomous snake, always managing to slip through the gaps in the flaming sword.

Within seconds, he blocked seventeen swords, and his robe was ripped seventeen times.

Damn it! I have no experience dealing with these guardian spirits!

He took a step back, but the silver chariot followed him like a shadow.

"Weak! Utterly weak! You can't even withstand a single sword strike from my double, and you dare call yourself the 'Angel of Death'?"

Should we use it?

Azrael blocked a sword strike and took a moment to think.

The cult imprinted a "system" deep within his subconscious, a kind of acquired hypnotic training program.

Once activated, the combat skills, tactical knowledge, and swordsmanship accumulated by other death angels over hundreds of years will instantly flow into his body, at the cost of loss of sanity and increased violent tendencies.

They'll probably tear this kid to pieces, and then the sacrifice of the Son of Gotham can't be performed.

Whoosh.

The rapier slashed across his ribs, tearing another hole in his robe.

"Looks like you really are asleep! Your swordsmanship is as useless as your manhood!!!"

Damn it, don't blame me.

Hearing the harsh mockery around him, Azrael's eyes darkened.

start up.

The atmosphere at the scene changed abruptly.

The moment the spider sensed the deadly stinging pain, Dio's mocking expression froze on the spot.

"Oh no! Get back to me—"

That's too late.

The other person's gaze shifted from annoyance to ferocity, and they showed no more mercy.

Azrael's way of holding his sword has also subtly changed.

He held the sword in his left hand, which hung at his side, while his right hand, covered by a gauntlet, clenched tightly.

The moment the flaming sword came down, he didn't even look. With a flick of his wrist, he deflected, deflected, and blocked the attack in one smooth motion.

At the same instant, Azrael turned sideways and blocked the Silver Chariot's rapier.

The armor made a muffled thud, but he didn't retreat; instead, he threw a punch.

He punched the air in front of him, or more precisely, he punched the silver chariot in the chest.

"What?! You damn bastard, stay away from me—"

A tremendous force surged back from the silver chariot, making him feel as if he had been hit head-on by a truck.

thump.

Dio was sent flying backwards.

"puff!"

A mouthful of blood spurted from his mouth, mixed with rainwater.

Azrael struggled to suppress his destructive urges and walked forward.

"Ha...you think...you can beat me, Dio, with such a little trick?"

Dior clutched his body and got up from the ground, a haughty smile playing on his lips.

"You don't think that's all I have to offer, do you?"

Azrael continued walking, completely unfazed by his opponent.

"No, no, no, I admit, I spoke a little too loudly just now!"

Dior's expression immediately turned panicked—he was genuinely panicked.

But in the midst of extreme panic, a thought flashed through my mind: fear is useless, so I might as well take a gamble.

A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he pleaded for mercy:

"How about this! I'll give you the Wayne family estate! You can have whatever you want!"

"etc!!!"

"Don't come any closer!!!"

Azrael's lips curled into a disdainful smile.

His mind, now immature from the initiation, couldn't think too much, so he took another step forward.

In that instant!

"Gold Experience!!!"

Dio's pleading expression vanished instantly.

The golden fist of the Golden Experience slammed into Azrael's face.

How can you dodge with speed A!

boom!

One punch landed.

The Golden Experience can grant living people an excessive amount of life force, causing their consciousness to go berserk!

The Angel of Death has lost!

"I've already decided the outcome! You idiot!"

[Great villainous savior, you have finally realized that power is not everything, wisdom is. You have successfully gained the upper hand. Points +200]