Elven cultivators

"Damn elves!"

Sefilas's furious roar echoed across the sea.

His gaze was fixed on Anton, his vertical pupils surging with undisguised killing intent.

Because of his injuries, he hadn't dared to use his full strength.

But at this moment, he could no longer care about anything else; he had only one thought in his mind—to kill this arrogant elf in front of him!

The moment the words fell, the air within a radius of several kilometers seemed to be gripped by an invisible giant hand and suddenly froze.

Anton felt as if the air from all directions was a solid wall pressing down on him.

The black gold sword light in the void was also affected.

The sword light, which was originally as agile as a swimming fish, now seemed to be wrapped in sticky glue, its speed was greatly reduced, and its trajectory became sluggish.

The sharp hiss of the sword light cutting through the air turned into a dull hum, as if it were cutting through some denser medium rather than the air.

In stark contrast to Anton was Sefilas's speed.

The form of the holy dragon became blurred in the wind, moving so fast that it seemed to merge with the wind itself.

With just one flap of his wings, his figure can appear thousands of meters away.

With each turn, several afterimages, both real and illusory, are left in the air, making it impossible to distinguish which is the real thing and which is the illusion.

The swift and agile nature of the wind element was brought to its fullest potential in him.

Invisible, without substance, omnipresent, yet all-pervasive and all-encompassing.

Anton couldn't even pinpoint his location with his eyes.

If it weren't for his divine sense, he wouldn't have been able to detect the trace of that holy dragon, let alone control the sword light to launch an attack.

The dragons watching the battle had to retreat again, creating even more distance before they could barely regain their footing.

They gazed at the blue figure standing in the center of the storm, their vertical pupils filled with awe.

This is the power of a saint.

Even when injured, even when not at his peak, he is still beyond the reach of the legendary rank.

"This is the power of the laws of the saints..."

Anton's eyes flickered.

His robes fluttered wildly in the gale, and the golden aura emanating from his body flickered erratically under the pressure of the wind, like a candle flame swaying in a storm.

Yet he remained unmoved, wielding his sword to attack Sephira.

The moment the sword light entered the storm, its speed suddenly decreased.

Invisible currents of air, like unseen chains, coiled around the sword light, attempting to tear it apart and strangle it.

But the yellowish light on the surface of the sword came into play at this moment.

That profound and weighty aura, as solid as a mountain, is like an invisible armor, completely blocking the erosion of the wind pressure.

Although the speed of the sword light decreased, it still resolutely approached Sephira.

The sword light, imbued with divine power, possesses a power comparable to or even surpassing divine abilities.

Two hundred and fifty-six sword lights represent two hundred and fifty-six supernatural abilities.

Even the mighty power of a saint's laws cannot completely suppress it.

"Damn it, what's wrong with this guy?"

Sefilas's face was ashen.

He has lived for over a thousand years and has seen countless legendary figures.

But none of them could compare to the elf before them.

This guy's strength far surpasses that of all the legendary figures he has ever seen.

Even the most legendary royal dragons in the clan are far inferior to this guy.

Why does someone who is only a legendary rank possess such astonishing strength?

Sefilas's killing intent intensified, and he suddenly flashed, transforming into a streak of azure light as he attacked Anton.

Anton's expression remained unchanged, and he flipped his wrist.

A crimson-gold dome flew out from his palm, growing larger with the wind, and in an instant it transformed into a giant dome hundreds of meters high, descending upon Sefilas.

Above the protective barrier, the nine fire dragons came to life from their relief form, transforming into nine giant fire dragons that opened their massive mouths and spewed divine fire that could incinerate everything toward Sephira.

The blazing flames illuminated the night sky as if it were daytime, and the heatwave swept in all directions, even causing large swathes of white mist to rise from the distant sea surface under the intense heat.

At the same time, a large, dark yellow seal flew out from Anton's sleeve, rapidly expanding into a giant seal the size of a small mountain, which crashed down from above Sefilas's head.

Before the seal even arrived, an immense pressure descended like the collapse of the heavens, causing Sefilas to falter slightly.

The simultaneous attack of the two powerful artifacts forced Sephira to abandon his offensive and instead defend.

Just then, the sword light struck again.

Taking advantage of the moment when Sefilas was restrained by the two great magical artifacts, two hundred and fifty-six sword lights simultaneously slashed into the storm from different directions, leaving wounds on his body.

The dragons watching from afar had gone from horrified to stunned.

What did they see?

Lord Sephira, you've actually been driven to this point by a legendary elf?

If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, they would never have believed such a bizarre thing.

On the battlefield, Anton used his magical artifacts and sword light to fight against Sefilas while silently assessing the difference in strength between the two sides.

Having fought this far, he has a general understanding of his own strength level.

With the combined power of the Heaven-Turning Seal and the Nine Dragons Divine Fire Cover, he now possesses the qualifications to fight against a Saint.

The reason I say "a battle" instead of "victory" is because the Stormwing Dragon in front of us is injured.

If it were a saint at his peak, he might be able to hold out for a while, but ultimately he would most likely be no match for him.

Unless he can integrate the other four laws into the initial embryo of the true seal, condense it into a true seal of magical power, and further enhance the power of his supernatural abilities and sword light, while also elevating the sword pellet to the level of a spiritual weapon.

Only then might he truly possess the power to confront a saint at his peak.

Having obtained the information he wanted, Anton ceased his fighting and retreated swiftly.

Sefilas was slightly taken aback upon seeing this, and then a mocking look appeared in his vertical pupils.

"Trying to escape?"

He scoffed coldly, his wings flapped suddenly, and his figure transformed into a streak of azure light as he chased after Anton.

"You think you can escape?"

Anton smiled wryly: "Don't rush, the real battle is just beginning."

The moment he finished speaking, he flicked his sleeve.

Twelve figures appeared out of thin air in front of him.

They were tall and majestic, their bodies enveloped in various halos of light.

Twelve colors, twelve auras: dark gold, silver blue, crimson, muddy yellow, deep blue, or turquoise.

One of the dark gold figures suddenly flashed forward, swinging his sword at Sefilas.

Sensing the sharpness within the dark gold longsword, capable of tearing through the void, Sefilas's vertical pupils narrowed, and he immediately swung his claws to meet the attack.

when!

Claws and swords clashed.

A crisp impact rang out, sending sparks flying.

The two sides separated immediately upon contact.

Sefilas glanced out of the corner of his eye and noticed a cut on the scales of his right claw.

His gaze was fixed on the dark golden figure, a hint of surprise flashing deep in his pupils.

Alchemy Golem!

An alchemical golem capable of withstanding a single blow from him!

What exactly is this thing?

The dragons in the distance were in an uproar.

"What kind of alchemical golem is that?"

"He actually managed to block Lord Sefilas's attack head-on!"

"This is impossible! Even legendary-level ancient golems aren't this strong!"

What terrified the dragons even more than the immense power displayed by the alchemical golems was that there were a total of twelve of them!

Just as they were in shock, the twelve figures suddenly moved.

The Six Divine Generals took the lead, their momentum unstoppable.

Sword light, thunder, flames, and weak water... six completely different forces poured down on Sefilas from all directions at the same time, sealing off all his space to dodge.

Instead of retreating, Sefilas advanced, attempting to crush the onslaught head-on with the power of a saint. However, the moment his claws touched the torrent of attacks, they vanished like mud oxen sinking into the sea, and he was instead forced to retreat repeatedly by the immense power.

At the same time, the Six Ding Divine Generals' offensive followed closely.

A mist surged from the void, shrouding the battlefield until no one could see their own hand in front of their face.

The toxins seeped silently into the air, causing a slowdown in the flow of Sefilas's magic.

The invisible sound waves pierced his soul, causing his consciousness to waver.

The sealing power was like an invisible chain, binding his limbs and making him expend more energy with every movement.

The twelve divine generals each have their own duties, combining offense and defense, and their cooperation is as seamless as a sophisticated war machine.

Sefilas was struggling to stay afloat, his wounds kept multiplying, and no matter how much he tried to harness the power of the wind element, he couldn't escape this predicament of being surrounded on all sides.

Anton nodded secretly as he watched.

Even without forming an array, the twelve divine generals working together had already completely suppressed the wounded holy dragon.

Even against a saint in their prime, they should be able to hold their own.

If we form an array...

On the battlefield, the twelve divine generals simultaneously ceased their attacks, their figures shifting and changing, and in an instant, each had taken their place.

The Six Jia Gods are arranged in the outer ring, each guarding one of the six directions: Heaven, Earth, Sun, Moon, Stars, and Planets.

The Six Ding Gods reside in the inner ring, guarding the six gates of life, death, illusion, destruction, sealing, and prohibition.

At this moment, the twelve deities completely merged their auras together, becoming one.

An invisible yet real force field emanated from the twelve divine generals simultaneously, intertwining and merging in the void, ultimately transforming into a vast domain covering an area of ​​several kilometers in radius.

The formation is complete.

The world suddenly fell silent.

The sounds of the wind, the waves, and the distant cries of the dragons all vanished in that instant.

It was as if an invisible hand had peeled this space away from the world.

Sefilas felt as if all his connection with the outside world had been severed. He could no longer sense the flow of the wind element, nor hear the response of the laws of heaven and earth.

He felt as if he had been stripped from the world and imprisoned in an invisible and intangible cage.

Before he could figure out what was going on, the gods had already made their move again.

Thunder, flames, golden sharpness, thick earth, vast waves, and gale... six destructive forces intertwined to form an impenetrable attack barrier, enveloping the entire formation.

With the support of the formation, the six forces merged and grew together, transforming into an irresistible torrent of destruction that swept into the formation from all directions.

At the same time, the power of the Six Ding Divine Generals also merged into the formation.

Mist, curses, illusions, seals... all kinds of laws surged in one after another, trapping Sephira in endless weakness and chaos, causing his senses to become disordered, his power to decline, and leaving him nowhere to escape.

The power of the Six Ding Six Jia Formation was fully revealed at this moment.

This is a deadly formation where "only one can enter, and there is no way out; only death."

Those who enter the formation cannot escape; they can only be gradually worn down by the ever-increasing destructive attacks until they are completely annihilated.

Sefilas struggled frantically in the midst of the battle.

He breathed out dragon breath, tore through with his claws, and flapped his wings to create hurricanes, but he was still unable to break free from the formation.

They could only watch helplessly as their strength and life slipped away rapidly.

He raised his head and looked through the layers of mist and light curtain at the figure standing outside the formation with his hands behind his back. His eyes finally showed horror and despair.

At this moment, Sephira truly understood.

He had indeed become the elf's prey.