Black sail

Chapter 698 LXXVIII. The Strongest Sword

The moment the great clock of the Eternal Clock Tower was struck, a sacred and solemn sound fell from the dome, echoing over every Gothic spire and rib of the royal capital, carrying an ancient solemnity that transcended time and space, suppressing all the noise into this magnificent sound.

Xiaolong seemed about to say something more.

But the long-accumulated power of Gerdley had already pounced forward. His violent force was so intense that the polished floor tiles beneath his feet collapsed with a crash. In the instant he pushed off the ground and launched himself forward, the thousand-ton suspended platform tilted to one side by more than ten degrees.

Suddenly staggering and losing his balance, Xiaolong instantly stepped back to steady himself. The strongest dark horse, unstoppable, had already closed in, its sword flashing wildly with powerful force.

The dragon neither parried nor blocked, but drifted backward, its body as light as a willow catkin in the wind. Every inch of its movement was just half an inch away from avoiding the sword's edge. It seemed as if it hadn't moved at all, but the phantom image in the same spot was rapidly splitting and overlapping.

Wherever Gerdley's sword strikes, the sky collapses and the earth splits. The fan-shaped arena in front of him is plowed through by the sword winds and crumbles. A corner of the entire arena is missing, and it collapses and crashes onto the sand and gravel training ground with a thunderous roar.

The magic crystal cable snapped, scattering sparks like a waterfall.

The platform's color-changing floor tiles short-circuited, causing them to become a black and white interlocking grid.

Seeing how agile the JF-17 was, Gerdley suddenly pressed down with his large hand, repeating the same method, to grab the man's throat and drag him to his death.

The signs of impending death suddenly appeared.

In Xiaolong's eyes, the powerful energy sliced ​​through all light and shadow, and the rest of the energy was swept away into thin lines. The surroundings were dark and hazy, with only the large hand with bulging veins like steel pressing down.

Xiaolong held his breath, his eyes revealing a chilling intent, a sharp and intimidating look in them for the first time.

It was still that ghostly and extraordinary movement technique. It seemed like he only took two steps back, but it was as if the frame rate of the world had been taken away. He had already retreated and flown to the wall of the training ground. In an instant, he left the floating platform and hung against the gravity on the ninety-degree vertical wall.

He crouched low, sword at his side, long hair moving without wind, eyes blazing with murderous intent, poised to draw his sword.
How could Gerdrey give up? Standing on the edge of the suspended platform that he had slashed and collapsed, he stepped forward and fell into the interior of the platform, which was full of broken and damaged steel columns.

It's a complete game-changer in terms of the overall combat strategy!

It's hard to imagine what terrifying power that was, as if the strength of a mountain giant had been hidden within the flesh and blood of a human.

With one hand, Gerdrey snapped a massive load-bearing column that required two people to encircle; the sound of metal fatigue and steel breaking was like an explosion.

He gripped a corner of the steel bar, the load-bearing column as light as foam in his hand, and threw it out like a cannonball, leaning back as if throwing a baseball, his muscles bulging, carrying the momentum and forward force.

It flew over like a meteorite.

Without moving his shoulder or raising his elbow, Xiaolong unleashed a swift, cold light from his sleeve—the ultimate sword intent that had returned to its original simplicity.

No action.

The burning load-bearing pillar was sliced ​​into countless iron filings by the Shadowless Sword Intent between the two. After being so devastated by the two, some of it even melted into molten iron in mid-air and poured down.

But Xiaolong's sword-drawing technique had only just begun.

A vortex of air swirled beneath the feet of the upside-down dragon hanging on the wall, the wind abruptly stopped, and the boundless sword light poured out, growing stronger with each slash and cut.

As the dragon lunged forward, all the sword beams suddenly solidified, and countless intersecting giant sword shadows spanning hundreds of feet in the V-shaped area descended like a curtain from the sky.

Instead of slashing in straight lines, the swordsmanship resembled complex origami, with illogical silver lines blooming wildly, all the sword shadows connecting end to end.
I myself shot out in an instant, like a streak of light through a crack in the sky.

All that could be heard was a frantic cracking sound, like a raging torrent rushing straight towards Godley, unstoppable and devastating, leaving no obstacle in its wake. Even the strongest dark horse was forced back, repeatedly blocking and retreating.

The two figures were no longer visible. In the midst of the fierce battle, they flew into the interior of the suspended platform, where destructive sounds of destruction echoed continuously, with only thunderous booms resounding.

It was like a dark, abyss-like cloud churning with countless thunderstorms.

I thought the Sky Arena, with its disposable supplies, could at least hold out for a while.

The residual power of the sword strikes had not dissipated; instead, it intensified. The sky covering the entire arena suddenly contracted, and all the sword shadows were swirled together at the center like a vortex.

The entire suspended platform shattered like a kaleidoscope in full bloom, the magical industrial creation instantly destroyed, and the huge stage that had previously been used as a halftime show exploded into countless smooth, mirror-like iron rocks that fell onto the training ground.

The arena had been transformed into a rocky hill covered in steel, with sparks still flying from the broken cable.

The final battle.

There is no explanation.

But all the spectators were already lost in thought. This year was truly an exceptionally luxurious one, because these two contestants could definitely rank in the top five or even higher in the 16th Martial Arts Tournament.

After a powerful and fierce head-on collision, the owl landed gracefully, landing steadily on a broken support pillar, its hand holding the sword trembling slightly.

Gedley crashed to the ground, creating a spiderweb-like crack. He only had a few shallow cuts on his body, from which a little blood seeped out, but they were just superficial wounds that didn't hurt or itch.

"You're the first person to survive this attack."

Xiaolong's sleeves fluttered, shaking off a few drops of blood from his sword.

Gedley took a deep breath, his heart pounding. He couldn't afford to exhaust himself here.

The power of the JF-17 was unexpected.

But even in the championship battle, it must be decided quickly.

Instead, it was Xiaolong who moved first. His ghostly and unparalleled movements were on full display. He took a step forward and instantly swept across the undulating iron hills. His afterimage stretched into countless overlapping afterimages. Even his shadow couldn't keep up with him. He was already in front of Gedley.

He drew his sword lightly, seemingly at a very slow speed, yet it contained an unparalleled force.

Gerdrey held his sword horizontally.

With a loud whoosh, the sound was deafening.

The sparks still burning on the steel hills were instantly extinguished by the wind pressure, all the flames were knocked down, and a rapidly expanding dust wave swept across the ground.

Gerdrey was thrown dozens of meters away, his legs carving out terrifying furrows, the residual force of the sword still not completely dissipated.

Before one move was even finished, another one arrived.

Xiaolong took a step to the side, but appeared to the left of Gerdley again, drawing his sword once more.

boom!
Gedley was knocked away again, while JF-17 continued to stride forward, with countless figures arriving from all directions, and a constant gust of fear sweeping through the air.

Gedley was completely overwhelmed, unable to keep up with the attacks from all sides.

Final blow.

The sword, wielded by the steel rock, cracked with a web of energy, its knuckles concealing unparalleled power.

The killing intent was swallowed at the hilt of the scabbard; not even the wind dared to stir.

The blade cleaves the wind before its shadow splits.

Xiaolong kicked up dust and took a quick step, moving from one edge of the training ground to the other in an instant, without turning back, his sword still in the upward thrust.

The shockwave split the mountains and seas, cleaving the entire training ground in two, creating a deep chasm.

A strange, loud bang was heard.

The mixed metal blade forged by the court alchemists for the championship battle was also cut in two and fell to the ground.

The weapons on the weapon racks had long been buried by the steel hills formed by the destruction of the platform.

Gedley had no weapons left and was fighting bare-handed.

"It seems... you've lost."

Xiaolong turned around and smiled calmly. His opponent was unarmed, and the outcome was already decided.

Gedley just stared intently at the JF-17.

It's far from over.

not now.

"You still don't understand. From today onwards, history will take a turn from here."

Gedley picked up a load-bearing column from the ground, several times taller than himself, and carried it on his shoulder. This was just the beginning.

The fuel built by the flames of hatred has only just begun to burn.

(End of this chapter)