That was all the information about him that Hadjar and Einen had managed to learn from Dora. The girl had a truly frightening amount of knowledge about the people in ‘The Holy Sky’ School and refused to tell them how and where she’d acquired it.
“Look!” Ian laughed. “These dogs can bark!”
His fifty companions laughed loudly in response. The leader of House Tarez’s servants turned his back to Hadjar.
“If anyone wants to see how House Tarez deals with those who have wronged its servants, you can come closer. But hurry up, the action will be over quickly.”
Gorr stripped down to his waist. Keeping only his pants on, he flexed his hard, well-defined muscles. He was in his early twenties, and far too arrogant.
“Last time, you did all the work,” Hadjar untied his scabbard and dropped it on the ground. “So don’t interfere this time. I’ll deal with him myself.”
Einen didn’t argue. In the Forest of Shadows, he had indeed dealt with Araz on his own. It would only be fair to let Hadjar deal with the problem now.
The people who had been watching the scene unfold began to gather around them. They weren’t all that interested in this fight, but there was nothing else to do in the swamps. Besides, the fact that only one unknown, ordinary disciple was going to fight against Gorr and his gang had attracted their attention.
“He’s committing suicide!” Ian laughed. “One against fifty? Either you are immensely stupid, or you’re simply tired of living. Admit it, you’re tired of wearing those dirty robes of yours, aren’t you?”
Hadjar remained silent, facing the group of cultivators without even blinking. His sword didn’t tremble, and his eyes radiated a strong and sharp will. Few people could stand to look directly into his eyes. Even Gorr tried to meet the fool’s gaze at first, but turned away after five seconds.
“Deal with him,” Ian growled.
When ten warriors started to charge forward, figures that really attracted everyone’s attention appeared behind Hadjar and Einen. As soon as they emerged from the tent, a crowd numbering a thousand cultivators gathered around them.
“So that’s how House Tarez solves its problems,” Tom smiled. He was leaning against the trunk of a young tree, his arms crossed over his chest. “Or the Tarez simply forgot to educate their servants.”
“Venerable youngest heir of the Predatory Blades clan, Tom Dinos,” Ian said through clenched teeth, but still saluted. “Let me remind you, senior disciple, that every clan’s problems are solved by the clan itself. There is no enmity between the clan of my masters and yourself. Please don’t interfere.”
“I didn’t intend to,” Tom said with a shrug. “I’m just looking at someone my brother will have to dispose of like trash.”
“Are you calling your own parents’ murderer your brother?” Ian snapped almost inaudibly. It was possible that no one besides Hadjar heard his remark. “You have sunk even lower than this mangy dog that I am about to send to his forefathers.”
So, there was something truly wrong with the Predatory Blades clan. Apparently, during one of their internal power struggles, Tom Dinos’ parents had failed and paid the ultimate price for it.
Hadjar turned to Tom and bowed low.
“Venerable senior disciple, thank you for your concern, but it isn’t necessary.”
“I don’t care about you, servant,” Tom Dinos snorted. “I want to remind you, Ian, that your people have signed my contract. I won’t allow fifty warriors to waste their power and resources right before the hunt begins.”
Gorr was about to protest, but said nothing. They were indeed bound by the oaths they’d made through the scroll.
“If you aren’t sure you’ll win,” Tom continued with a grin, “you can have two warriors fight alongside you.”
These words clearly stung Ian. He grimaced, flushed, and abruptly croaked out a quiet:
“Eric. Buval. You’re with me. The rest of you, don’t interfere.”
Gorr drew his sabers. In the light of the morning sun, their blades flashed with blue sparks. Lightning rippled across Ian’s torso. It arced into the ground, burning the grass and melting the sand into glass.
“Get ready to die-”
Before Ian could finish speaking, Hadjar, leaving afterimages in his wake, moved behind his opponent. Ian, who’d fought in dozens of battles to the death, managed to react and use a defensive Technique just in time. His crossed sabers, enveloped in a shield of lightning, withstood the backhand swing of Hadjar’s sword.
Because Araz had died at the hands of these two, Gorr had expected a certain level of power, but he’d never imagined that a simple blow would force him to move seven steps back after he blocked it. While he was an experienced fighter and managed to react to Hadjar’s attack, his two companions…
Eric hadn’t even managed to draw the battle-axe strapped to his back before Hadjar’s sword first sank into his stomach, and then snaked up to his throat. The seventeen-year-old boy fell to the ground, the horrible wound gushing blood.
The second warrior managed to draw his blade as his comrade fell. A swordsman, he’d had no equal in his native city on the edge of the Empire. However, this overabundance of self-confidence didn’t lead to anything good. He even tried to lunge at Hadjar. Buval’s blow, which carried a trace of the Sword Spirit, and contained the energy of a true cultivator, turned into a scarlet, six-foot blade.
Hadjar didn’t even try to block it. He only moved his body slightly to the side, let the lunge pass harmlessly behind him, and then, turning on his heels, delivered a quick, diagonal slash. Buval tried to counterattack, but was surprised to find that he couldn’t feel his sword anymore. Looking down at his hands, he wanted to scream, but the sky suddenly changed places with the earth, and then started to spin in a mad whirl.
His severed hands fell to the ground. They were still clutching his simple artifact sword. After the diagonal slash, Hadjar had managed to launch another attack. He’d struck the man’s neck. His severed head quickly followed his hands.
In less than a second, two proud Heaven Soldiers had gone to meet their forefathers. Hadjar turned his blade, which didn’t have a drop of blood on it, back toward Ian.
“You might make this interesting if you have all your dogs fight with you.”
Following his words, a pillar of black energy erupted around Hadjar. The cultivators around them reached for their weapons. Even the rare inner circle disciples, including Dinos and Dora. All of them, for a brief moment, had felt the presence of a terrible predator that was ready to tear them to pieces. The pillar of dark energy disappeared. The cloak of black fog lay across Hadjar’s shoulders, and his hands gripped a similar blade. Wisps of energy seemed to waft from the black sword.
The appearance of Hadjar’s Call hadn’t changed much. His cloak and sword had just become visibly denser, and he now had misty bracers on his wrists as well.
“Everyone, attack!” Ian yelled.
Hadjar’s lips curled into a half-mad grin.
“That’s more like it!”
He roared and charged into battle.
Chapter 459
“Anise,” Tom Dinos said in a casual, bored tone.
The sixteen-year-old girl suddenly showed a determination and speed that many experienced warriors didn’t possess. She easily pushed away from the ground. Her movements were fast and didn’t have a single wasted bit of energy in them. Hadjar was also able to move at such a speed, but he could only do so by using the ‘Wind’ stance, and he would’ve left a rather large hole in the ground, too. Anise hadn’t even crushed the grass.
She flew a dozen yards through the air like an arrow. As she passed Hadjar, she didn’t look at him. He was stunned. He couldn’t believe that a person could move like that. She was like a violent hurricane trapped in a beautiful girl’s body.
After only spending as much energy as was necessary, directing it so strictly and directly that it didn’t even disturb Hadjar’s clothes as she passed, she appeared be
hind him. Her sword left its scabbard easily and silently.
Anise didn’t use any Techniques. She didn’t spend much energy. By her standards, everything she’d just done was nothing more than a simple movement. Even while he wore the Call’s cloak, Hadjar doubted that his ‘Wind’ stance would be able to catch up to Anise.
“I already told you, servant of House Tarez,” Dinos said, his eyes twinkling. “Either you deal with this bum yourself, or Anise will send your dogs to their forefathers first, and then deal with you.”
Ian turned to Dinos and said:
“I’ll feast when your most cherished person is dead,” Gorr said with a strong emphasis on every word. “Disgraced in front of everyone. But I suppose you’d like to do that bit yourself.” Hadjar didn’t even try to make sense of his random babbling.
Tom’s hand twitched toward his sheath. The grass around his feet, as if cut by an invisible blade, swirled like a small tornado. However, his loss of control didn’t last more than a second. Dinos pulled himself together just in time and pretended that Ian’s words hadn’t hurt him.
“And you, bastard from a barbarian kingdom,” Gorr said, glancing at Hadjar. “Don’t think that just because you killed those losers, you’ll beat me with ease as well!”
“If I did, I would be disappointed.”
Hadjar swung his blade, leaving behind a misty arc of energy in the air. He assumed his favorite, relaxed stance. The wind ruffled his robes and misty cloak. It played with his hair and strummed the ornaments in it. His sword, a copy of the one that the Black General himself had once wielded in ancient times, was angled toward the ground peacefully. Hadjar’s stance was so open that it seemed any attack could easily take his life.
“Demons!” Gorr drew his sword from its sheath. “Damn you all!”
His frantic lunge didn’t have a tenth of the speed and grace that Anise had shown. Both of his sabers flashed with azure energy. As he was charging, Ian spun like a top.
“Blue Sky Slash!” He shouted.
The energy enveloped him in a sky-blue cocoon. This aura of power contained the mysteries of the Saber Spirit. Its depth and density weren’t enough to call Ian a Wielder, but he was very close to breaking through to that level of weapon mastery.
A hail of high-speed slashes rained down on Hadjar. While deceptively simple, they were imbued with a layer of lethal, blue energy. Hadjar, backpedaling, managed to deflect them.
With each collision of the black sword and the blue sabers, the echoes of power seemed to expand farther and farther outward. They left behind deep gouges in the ground.
Hadjar barely managed to fend off Gorr’s furious attacks, which were fueled by the man’s anger and humiliation. If he had tried to hold his ground, the sabers would’ve chopped him to pieces.
At that moment, pressured by the frantic attacks which were only getting faster thanks to the man’s Technique, Hadjar got to experience firsthand the obvious superiority of a saber wielder who used two blades.
Capitalizing on the mistake Ian made when he swung too widely, Hadjar slammed his open palm into the center of his opponent’s stomach. Gorr lost his balance for a split second and staggered. That was enough for Hadjar to pivot and kick his opponent in the chest. Ian flew five yards through the air, landing on his feet. He slid a few more steps along the slippery ground, leaving furrows in the mud.
There was almost nothing left of the blue energy cocoon that had accelerated Gorr’s attacks, and Hadjar didn’t give his enemy the chance to use the Technique once again. Swinging the black blade, he said: “Strong Wind.”
The black fog followed the blade. It didn’t disappear in a ghostly haze, but thickened, curling into several spirals, which then joined together, forming a writhing dragon. It spun around a six-foot replica of Hadjar’s sword. This swing had both the speed and accuracy of a lunge while also containing the ferocity of a slash.
Leaving behind a familiar blue-black trail, Hadjar’s Technique struck the crossed sabers. When they clashed, the tips of the sabers flashed with a bright light that instantly formed into an elongated, vertical blade. The dragon-enhanced black blade struck the glowing blade and, after slicing it in half without hitting Gorr, flew off into the forest.
They all heard the crashes and creaking of falling trees, and the servant of House Tarez counterattacked. His sabers flashed with lightning, and predatory wings of crackling energy formed behind him.
Leaving a streak of gray ash behind as he moved through the grass, he appeared next to Hadjar in a split second. The lightning wings behind him turned into two huge sabers. They merged with the artifacts in Gorr’s hands and the warrior screamed:
“Thunder’s Fury!”
He swung down with all the viciousness he could muster. Both of his sabers were coated in cutting lightning, and were aimed at Hadjar’s collarbones. There was no chance that he could defend himself or dodge both attacks.
The people around them breathed out, expecting to see the ordinary disciple meet his end. Only three people were certain that this battle was far from over. Hadjar blocked his opponent’s left saber with a sweep of his sword. Gorr’s eyes flashed with malicious glee. He could already feel his right saber slicing through his foe’s flesh, but suddenly, something blocked it. The silhouette of a dragon’s head formed in the air. Its fangs were made of blades. It bit down hard on the lightning-enhanced sabers, preventing them from moving an inch. The sixth stance of the ‘Light Breeze’ Technique, which was called the ‘Rustle in the Treetops’, had been created for just these kinds of situations.
“What now, bastard?” Ian spat in Hadjar’s face.
Their blades were locked together. In such a situation, it was one’s strength that decided everything, and Gorr was currently stronger thanks to the potion he had taken beforehand. One thing he hadn’t considered was that not everyone needed a sword to attack. To a Wielder, everything was a sword. Even the gust of wind playing with Hadjar’s hair was enough for him to use the fourth stance. Hadjar imagined an autumn leaf falling from a branch and landing on his opponent’s chest.
“Falling Leaf!” Hadjar growled.
At the same time, the gust of wind turned into a faint, ghostly blade. The Technique, since he’d based it purely on the mysteries of the Sword Spirit and hadn’t used a real weapon, was several times weaker than the original. But that was still enough to make Ian, who’d been thrown aside, hold a hand to his chest in surprise as blood oozed through his fingers.
“A Wielder.” Gorr croaked.
“Give my regards to Araz,” Hadjar said, then swung his sword fiercely.
Despite being full of monstrous power and fury, it still didn’t disturb the grass beneath Hadjar’s feet and didn’t produce a single echo.
“Azure Cloud!”
Chapter 460
The ‘Azure Cloud’ stance combined the speed of the sixth stance, the ‘Wind’, the abruptness of the fourth stance, the ‘Falling Leaf’, and the stealth of the fifth stance, the ‘Rustle in the Treetops’. Brimming with unimaginable power, it possessed a truly insane amount of damage potential. It was a killing blow that one couldn’t dodge if they weren’t already prepared for it. At least that’s what Hadjar had thought when he’d first created it.
He launched the attack almost instantly, and it conjured a twenty-foot dragon in the air whose body was a sword — a copy of the Black Blade.
There was a deafening explosion. The echo of its power knocked many of the weak cultivators down. A wave of dust rose into the air, and pieces of earth and chunks of destroyed stone flew in different directions.
Hadjar was about to lower his blade and dismiss his fading Call, when suddenly, the dust cloud began coalescing into a frenzied whirlwind. Lightning sparked in that whirlwind. It contained elements of the Saber Spirit and it cut through trees and forced people to shield themselves with their weapons or use their defensive Techniques.
Suddenly, the gigantic, blue-and-black sword shattered into a myriad of fragments, and t
he dragon shattered along with it.
The bloodied Ian Gorr stood in the center of a deep ravine. A terrible wound gaped in his chest, making even the experienced disciples shudder in horror. It ran from his left clavicle to his navel, and the cut was so deep it exposed his rib cage and innards. The only reason they didn’t fall out was because of the strands of energy that held them back. He moved his hand away from his mouth. Judging by the swallowing motions he made, he’d managed to ingest an alchemical pill at the last second. That was how he’d avoided going to his forefathers, and now radiated energy instead. He exuded the kind of power that was comparable only to that of a Heaven Soldier at the peak stage. Only recently, Ian had been at the initial stage.
“No way…”
“It can’t be…”
“Where did he get that Technique?”
The thousands of spectators whispered amongst each other, unable to believe their eyes. A whirlwind comprised of hundreds of lightning bolts had enveloped Ian’s body. They moved constantly, merging, passing through each other, then separating and starting the cycle all over again. The appearance of this crazy Technique resembled a set of armor: shoulder pads, a breastplate, and even greaves, all created from lightning, could clearly be seen within the whirlwind.
“Thunder Armor!” Even Anise gasped in surprise. “That Technique is available only to the inner circle disciples!”
Hadjar tensed. He could feel the monstrous power emanating from the ‘Thunder Armor’. Damn it! It was probably even stronger than the ‘Light Breeze’! It was definitely a Heaven level Technique! How could such knowledge be available to Gorr, who, even if he was one of the strongest, was still only an ordinary disciple?
Land of Magic Page 18