“Strong Wind!” Hadjar shouted.
A wind didn’t surge out of his blade. On the contrary, a blue storm with dark dragon-swords writhing within it enveloped Hadjar’s sword, and he charged into the ranks of their enemies. He dodged an axe that whistled past overhead, the result of a Technique that looked oddly like a woodcutter’s axe. He swung his sword and a part of the storm separated from the black blade. Having absorbed the mysteries of the Sword Spirit, it turned into a wave of cutting wind. The axe wielder’s body split in half and fell at Hadjar’s feet, who continued his mad and merciless dance.
He parried another attack with the flat of his blade and made a swift lunge. Another part of the storm transformed into a replica of the black sword and pierced through another cultivator’s head. It hit him right between the eyes and he dropped his weapon and fell to the ground silently.
After his battle with the archers, Hadjar’s cloak, which served as an indicator of how much energy was left in his inner dragon, had barely covered his shoulder blades, but now it was creeping back toward the ground.
Einen wasn’t far behind. His ape destroyed the enemies even faster than Hadjar’s sword. Swords had always been best in single combat, while spears and staves had been made to fight off numerous foes.
Spinning his staff, Einen broke his enemies’ bodies without any mercy, not missing a single attack. After impaling the nearest cultivator on the ape’s fist-spear, he only had to think it and his shadow beast tore the warrior apart with a roar.
Blood flew in all directions. The eyes of the inexperienced disciples reflected a glint of horror, but their pride didn’t allow them to back down. Dodging the pieces of flesh, they rushed to attack once more. Einen had been waiting for this, for the moment when the fighters who hadn’t yet passed the crucible of endless battles for their lives decided that they would overwhelm him with numbers. Four of the nine warriors facing the islander remained where they were. But five of them charged him.
“Boulder Storm!”
Einen’s spear blurred into a series of frantic thrusts, and the ape’s fists turned into a hail of blows. They crushed their enemies with brutal efficiency, leaving them no chance to escape. Tearing bodies apart with ease, the shadow ape clad in rainbow armor annihilated the foes. It crumpled metal armor, broke artifact weapons, and even the drops of blood that managed to escape its reach were few. Within a radius of several steps around Einen, all beings were doomed to perish.
Hadjar also tore into the enemy with deadly precision. He spun between them with graceful surety. His movements, quick and measured, were devoid of anything superfluous. Where someone else would’ve taken two steps, he took only one. Where someone else, fearing for their own safety, would’ve tried to leave a few inches between themselves and an enemy’s blade, Hadjar was content to dodge by a hair’s breadth. Only now, after years of training and battles, could he fight as he had that day against the Patriarch of ‘The Black Gates’ sect. The young disciples couldn’t resist the onslaught of one who fought with the ferocity of a beast and the skill of a General.
Deep in the swirling dance of black fog, Hadjar, leaving countless afterimages behind, left five butchered bodies on the ground after just a few moments. So much blood had already been spilled in the ravine that the friends’ feet were buried in it up to their ankles.
“Together?” Einen asked.
“Together,” Hadjar nodded.
“Boulder Storm!”
“Spring Wind!”
The two attacks merged into a storm, a black ocean of death. Flashes of light, like dark pearls, fell on the heads of the last four disciples. They were experienced and possessed various protective artifacts and Techniques. One of them threw a seemingly ordinary handkerchief in front of him. However, the hieroglyph that lit up across its white surface was anything but. All four of them were quickly covered in a white shroud.
“The White Queen’s Requiem,” the cultivator said. “This artifact is at the initial stage of the Spirit Knight level-”
Before he could finish bragging, the artifact that had saved his life more than once started to give way.
“It can’t be!” The four cultivators shouted in unison.
They couldn’t believe that the newbies had the power to break through the defenses of a Spirit Knight level artifact. They couldn’t have known that, even while still being mere Heaven Soldiers, Hadjar and Einen had the kind of power that had made Rahaim look at them with scientific interest.
Four more corpses fell at the friends’ feet. The battle was over. Only the cries of the ravens sounded amongst the treetops that were swaying calmly as leaves fell silently into the small pool of blood that the bottom of the ravine had turned into.
“I demand a duel!” Araz roared. Only a minute ago, he’d been confident in his victory, and now he was alone against both of these monstrous newcomers. Both warriors were breathing heavily. Their Calls were almost devoid of energy. Hadjar’s cloak was only down to his waist. Einen’s rainbow armor was covered in deep cracks. Even then, they were still a threat.
“If you have any honor, you will agree to a duel!”
Chapter 440
Neither Hadjar nor Einen bothered to remind the giant that there was little honor in sending young men and women into battle while the leader stayed back. Even now, Araz’s request contained neither decency nor honor. The warrior still hoped that, if he could defeat one of his two opponents in a duel by some miracle, he would have a chance to get out of this mess not just alive, but also a winner.
“I demand a duel!” He declared again, a bit more petulantly this time.
Plate mail gloves shaped like tiger heads appeared on his hands. They were an artifact at the Heaven level. The friends wondered where a simple ordinary disciple had gotten such an expensive weapon…
“I’ll deal with him.” Einen’s voice was weary.
“Maybe it would be better for us to do it together?” Hadjar suggested. “He isn’t worth wasting our time on, my friend.”
“I’m not going to waste our time.”
The islander opened his eyes properly, showing the purple irises of his inhuman eyes. Realizing that his friend had a trump card up his sleeve, Hadjar didn’t insist. Dismissing his Call, he picked his sword up from the ground and returned it to its scabbard, taking a few steps back.
Araz, who’d already put some energy-restoring pills in his mouth, slid down the slope that was slick with blood. Stopping in front of Einen, he slammed his fists together. A metallic tinkle caused the surface of the blood pool to shimmer. Concentric circles spread across its surface like someone had thrown a stone in. Araz was clearly stronger than anyone in his gang had been. That was probably why he’d been their leader.
Einen saluted in the local manner. It was how any duel of honor began. However, before the islander had even finished the salute, Araz shouted, “Diamond Fist!”
The tigers on his battle gloves came to life and snarled, gnashing their teeth. The energy around his hands, forearms, and collarbones took the form of diamonds. The whirlwind of power that burst out from the cultivator’s body scattered the earth and blood, creating a dry space around Araz’s legs.
“Look out!” Hadjar shouted.
He drew his blade and ran in to help, but it was too late.
Curse the High Heavens! It had been foolish to expect honorable conduct from a man like Araz. The destructive power of such a Technique, backed by the power of a Heaven level artifact, would be almost as terrible as a direct hit from a Heavy Sword Technique.
The giant’s attack exceeded all of Hadjar’s expectations. Even if he was still at the middle stage of the Heaven Soldier level, Araz could’ve fought Ragar on equal terms thanks to his training and artifact.
In his mind’s eye, Hadjar saw Einen fail to block the attack in time and get launched back; he landed on his back, a fountain of blood spurting from his mouth.
It happened just like that. A dead body landed on the ground. Only it wasn’t
Einen’s body, but Araz’s.
“River Serpent,” Einen said.
He did it more for Hadjar’s sake than to help himself concentrate on the Technique. Only now, after the attack itself, was Hadjar able to comprehend what had happened from memory. The islander’s lunge had been so fast that Hadjar had been unable to even distinguish the afterimages. This attack was faster than any attack Hadjar had ever seen before.
A staff-spear was a shorter weapon than a simple spear. It had far more maneuverability and speed. However, its short reach remained its greatest weakness. Einen had found a Technique that compensated for this weakness. It gathered energy at the very tip of the staff-spear, then concentrated it into an unimaginably small but equally dense point. Then it imbued the staff-spear with the mysteries of the Spear Spirit and sent it flying. The attack, which traveled in a straight line, was several times weaker, but ten times faster than the similar Technique of Sunshine Sankesh Hadjar had been forced to contend with.
Araz probably hadn’t even understood what, like the thinnest of threads, had pierced his head. The life was draining from his eyes, and his body was convulsing in its death throes.
“So that’s why you needed the cores of all sorts of crawling monsters,” Hadjar suddenly realized.
“Exactly.” Einen nodded, and with an effort of will, he gathered all the Glory points from the bodies that had died at his hands. “Three hundred and seventeen. Not a bad haul for a day’s work.”
“Two hundred and ninety-six,” Hadjar said. “Yes, it’s not bad, but…”
He moved his hand away from his hip. There was a long, deep gash across his leg, left by someone’s axe. Hot blood trickled down his back as well. There was also a wound from someone’s sword that had cut into his flesh. There were numerous cuts on his arms.
Einen, though he appeared unharmed, was a bit unsteady on his feet and often spat out blood. The attacks on the rainbow ape had left their traces inside the islander’s meridians and nodes. Such wounds, even if they were treated faster than bodily ones, were much more dangerous when they didn’t receive the proper care.
“Do you think we’ll be able to sell their artifacts?” Einen asked as they both climbed out of the ravine and sat down on the trampled grass.
“Who knows? As they say in Lidus, the barn gets filled grain by grain.”
With an effort of will, Hadjar collected all the artifacts that were scattered on the ground. There were so many of them that only a few acres of space remained in the storage ring.
“What a useful-”
Before Hadjar could finish praising the ring, Einen suddenly slammed his fist into the palm of his hand.
“That’s the solution!”
Hadjar had never seen his friend so happy before. Except for the time when, after their adventure in the Sea of Sand, they’d visited the brothel of Underworld City.
“The solution?”
Suddenly, it dawned on Hadjar. What was the main problem of collecting leaves from the shrubs? The fact that they had to be separated from the branches in a tedious manner that wasted time. No one, not even the most skilled Heaven Soldier, had such deep control over their power that they could use it to do this work instead. It was different with using raw will. Especially when a special artifact, originally created for collecting and storing things, became the instrument of said will.
“I’m positive,” Hadjar said, looking at the crumpled ring on his finger, “that this spatial artifact has never been used for such purposes before.”
“Have you seen how much they cost?” Einen asked.
Indeed, even the simplest spatial artifacts, such as the one Hadjar possessed, were worth about fifteen thousand Imperial coins! A truly princely sum for which a person could probably buy a cheap Imperial level artifact!
“All right, let’s go back to the School. We’ve had enough adventures for one day, and we’ve even earned some points.”
“I agree, my barbarian friend. More than ever, we need a plan. I’m afraid that, after this battle, the number of people who want to send us to our forefathers will only increase.”
“And you know what, my bald friend?” Hadjar tapped his scabbard. “There is only one fate for all of them.”
Einen responded with a very bloodthirsty smile
The friends whistled and their Three-horned deer appeared out of the Forest of Shadows. They had waited out the danger and were now once again ready to perform the duties in exchange for which they were so well fed and groomed. Leaping into their saddles, grunting in pain and spitting out blood, Einen and Hadjar started riding back.
“By the way, my friend,” Hadjar said, filling his pipe and pulling out a match, “while we’re riding, can you tell me about the elves?”
“What do you want to know about them?” The islander didn’t ask why his friend from the north knew who elves were, but knew nothing else about them.
“Everything.”
“Well, in that case, we should start with-”
Neither of them was surprised when their conversation was interrupted.
Right in front of the deer, grabbing the animals by their reins, the girl with pink skin, white hair, and long ears fell from the sky. She had the aura of a Heaven Soldier at the peak stage, but the power she exuded was comparable to a Spirit Knight.
“Let me tell you instead.” Dora Marnil smiled innocently, showing off a big hammer. It was an Imperial level artifact!
Chapter 441
This time, the elf girl was close enough for Hadjar to examine her from head to toe. The first thing that caught his eye was that she was young, no older than fifteen. However, even at that age, the girl had enough power to kill ten of him.
As for her appearance, she was incredibly beautiful, and apart from her unnaturally white hair and long ears, she wasn’t that different from female human cultivators.
“What does the eldest heir of House Marnil need from two ordinary disciples?”
Hadjar glanced at Einen. The islander replied with an imperceptible movement of his eyebrow, which translated to: ‘While you were relaxing, I was studying the political situation of the Empire.’ Hadjar didn’t bother reminding him that he’d been negotiating with Rahaim.
After his friend’s question, he looked at the girl in a very different light. There were always many heirs in every clan — from two to twenty people. The term ‘heir’ was similar but also very different from how it was used back on Earth, or even in Lidus. Depending on their seniority and proximity to the main family, their status differed. For example, Tom Dinos, from the Predatory Blades clan, was the lowest-ranked heir of that clan. Hadjar even thought that Tom was the bastard of one of the side branches.
As for the eldest heir, they were always a single person, the ‘true’ heir, if you will. They were the third most important person in the clan, after the head of the clan and the elders. The internal hierarchy of the clans was as complex as that of a country. Hadjar had no time to deal with all of it.
“Well,” Dora’s smile was so white it blinded the friends briefly. “I don’t need anything from you specifically. But as I was passing by, I saw you fighting against the other disciples.”
“It was an impressive sight, wasn’t it?” Hadjar stared at the hammer still looming in front of his face.
It didn’t surprise him that the slender and fragile-looking elf was able to hold a two-hundred-pound weapon. In addition, after living for almost three decades in this strange world, he’d long ago stopped caring about the stereotypes from back on Earth. An elf with a hammer? Sure. He wouldn’t react even if he saw an orc with a pipe and a long, gray beard.
“It was impressive,” Dora nodded. “That you had a spatial artifact, that is.”
Hadjar frowned. He’d seen the warships of the Marnil clan in the sky of the city. Her clan surely had enough money to buy hundreds of rings just like Hadjar’s. They probably had far more valuable ‘trinkets’ gathering dust.
“Then I’ll paraphrase my question,”
Einen replied patiently. “What does the heiress of House Marnil want with a cheap spatial ring?”
“Cheap?” Hadjar muttered. “It’s a war trophy.”
“I’ve got orders I need to follow,” Dora said.
With her free hand, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at them. It was a purely reflexive, feminine action. But, by the High Heavens, after seeing it, hundreds of men would be willing to sell their souls for a night with her.
“And they involve the Forest of Shadows?” Hadjar asked.
“Didn’t anyone teach you, junior disciple, that if you don’t interrupt people, you’ll get to the point faster?” The elf girl said reproachfully. Hadjar rolled his eyes. He was being lectured by a child half his age. “I’m not on a mission from ‘The Holy Sky’ School... although I took a task, of course. It said something about the leaves of a shrub. Who would want to waste their time collecting such things if they can just buy them in any herb shop?”
Hadjar and Einen looked at each other. This girl, who’d grown up in one of the richest and most influential families in the country, had clearly never wanted for anything.
“Do you have a mission from the Marnil clan?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Dora responded, shaking her head. However, the answer was clear. “The only thing you need to know is that I need your spatial ring.”
The girl pointed to Hadjar’s hand, or more precisely, at the ring finger where he wore the battered artifact.
“With all due respect, eldest heir of House Marnil,” Einen bowed courteously, “I’m sure that you have enough money to buy a dozen such rings.”
“With all due respect, junior disciple,” she mockingly imitated the islander, “I’m not asking for the ring, but telling you that I’m going to take it. It’s in my power, even without my clan crest, to take this ring away from you.”
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