Chapter 830 War [6]



BOOOM!

As soon as Rilia's body disappeared amidst the explosion, the two male branch managers charged with fury in their eyes.

Geralt's actual elemental affinity was unknown, but his unparalleled achievements in weapon arts were showcased clearly in this battle.

His axe rarely reached Aarish due to the latter's insane movement capability, but the fact that he was even able to pressure a spatial expert with pure weapon skills was amazing.

The fact that his axe existed wasn't something Aarish could ignore. There was a reason he dodged every attack instead of taking them head-on.

After all, even if he was far more powerful in terms of pure force and law comprehension, he didn't have an absolute advantage.

Geralt's axe could wound him if it was allowed to hit, so he naturally couldn't allow that to happen.

It was frustrating.

Geralt had always been able to solve his problems with his fists. He was a man who made it to his current position by walking the path of an Asura, littered with the blood and corpses of his enemies.

This was the first time he'd met an enemy he couldn't reach no matter how hard he tried.

But still, he gritted his teeth and kept fighting. His hope was that he'd be able to improve through this experience so that it never happened again.

Besides, at least this time, he had comrades by his side.

Jean's blade was as fast as light and just as incorporeal as well. It held a strange property that directly scorched Nox Mana and purified it, which made him a deadly force to normal Nox.

However, even his speed couldn't catch up to instant transmission. Even light needed a measure of time to travel from one point or the next.

This amount of time might've been negligible in any normal situation, but here where every fraction of a second counted, the minute loss of speed Jean experienced by using light as a medium rather than space was seriously affecting his battle capacity.

"Haa…haa…haa…"

'It has already been over an hour. For a fight between experts to last this long…if we cannot swiftly take him down, we will end up fighting until our mana reserves are depleted, and if that happens…'

Then they were goners. It was obvious who had the highest mana capacity among the four of them.

'We need to suppress his spatial movement. This is the main factor holding us back.'

Just as Jean, Geralt, and the currently incapacitated Rilia were unable to touch Aarish, Aarish was unable to seriously injure them.

They simply didn't give him the time.

'However, that means nothing if we cannot interfere with his teleportation. If only I had some slight comprehension of space, I could identify his location within the spatial layers, but it's impossible for us normal people!'

Spatial experts were both respected and feared once they reached a certain level. After all, when they achieved that milestone, it meant they were essentially untouchable.

As Jean lost himself in the impossibility of the situation, a change took place.

Rumble!

"Woah!"

Space suddenly became heavy and murky like molasses. The change was so sudden that even Aarish, who wouldn't normally be so affected by the situation, was directly forced out of the spatial layers.

The suppression itself wasn't strong, rather, it was something Aarish could normally shrug off without a second thought.

But in this situation, where space was his absolute weapon against these experts who couldn't interfere with it, how could he expect said weapon to revolt?

"Now!"

Jean didn't even take a second to consider the situation.

All he knew was that the enemy was unguarded.

His body moved slower than it should've, but the difference was marginal. He reached Aarish just a few fractions of a second later than he usually would've and swung his sword in a strange pattern.

'White Plum Sword Dance.'

The white plum tree was a strange tree that existed on Jean's homeworld. Many a sword practitioner would arrive at this tree's trunk every year to observe it's swaying leaves and try to comprehend the mysteries behind its existence.

Sadly, it was impossible…for all but one.

Jean was the first to comprehend the White Plum Tree's mystical sword dances, and in the coming days, he was forcefully made the last as well.

That world was destroyed by the Nox, and Jean was its final survivor.

The lifelong resentment of such a truth fused itself into the Plum Blossom Sword Dance, the final memoir of a fallen world.

HAAAA!

Jean let out a spirited shout as he pushed his sword with everything he had.

1 slash.

2 slashes.

4 slashes.

16 slashes.

256 slashes.

The number of sword movements exponentially increased with every spark of a second, and the compounded impact of these slashes continuously barraged Aarish's body.

"Khh…!"

The Nox Commander held back the blood in his mouth and desperately spread his awareness to find a way out of the situation, but it was looking impossible.

Jean's strange sword dance didn't just attack, but also suppressed. No matter what direction Aarish tried to escape in, he could sense a fatal blow waiting for him.

And even without this layer of suppression, Geralt was just waiting for his turn to take over and give his axe the bloody feast it'd been desiring this entire time.

If that wasn't bad enough…

Rilia's form became visible on the horizon. She was battered and bloody, and her clothes were ripped in multiple places, but she acted as if nothing happened as she raised her staff to join the battle.

"Dammit! Do you know who I am?!" Aarish shouted in a rage.

His eyes turned red, and the mana in his body began to boil.

"I am the son of the Void Lord! None of you peons are worthy of defeating me!"

Click!

Everything halted.

Jean's eyes widened. The aura on his sword was dispelled instantly by some mysterious force.

Aarish looked up with pitch-black eyes lacking any sort of sclera or pupils.

"Dominion."

Thick black smoke floated up from his mouth and formed a dome around him, Geralt, and Jean.

Standing on the outside, Rilia's face paled.

The power Aarish showcased wasn't power he should've had. The intensity of the laws was far too powerful for any 4th class to comprehend regardless of their level.

Rilia bit her lip in worry. 'This must be one of his final trump cards. If he is truly the son of a Lord-level character…I'm afraid it will be incredibly difficult for those two."

She flew to the edge of the black barrier and slowly reached her hand out to grab it.

Pah!

A larger hand grabbed hers before it could reach its destination.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Rilia's eyes widened. She slammed her staff in the direction of the voice, but the owner was long gone.

He stood calmly a few meters away with a wry smile on his face.

"Can you not look before you smack? Don't you know I just saved your life?"

Rilia's eyes widened.

The being who she couldn't sense wasn't an enemy, rather it was a young human man she'd never seen before.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

This man…

"Why are you here when you're so weak?!"

…was definitely not someone who should've been interfering at this moment.