Elven cultivators

The slave hunters next to him glanced at his expression and scoffed, adding, "See? Still hoping someone will save you? What wishful thinking."

The boy didn't retort, but stared at the orc in the center of the camp who hadn't moved an inch, his face ashen.

In the midst of the battle, the orcs seemed to have finally grown tired of this one-sided toy.

As the long metal rod swept across again, he raised his hand, pressed it against the middle of the rod, and slammed it down.

The ape-man elder holding the staff felt a mountain-like force slam down on the staff, his tiger's mouth split open on the spot, the staff flew out of his hand, and his knees buckled as he was pulled down to his knees.

Taking advantage of the situation, the orc kicked him in the chest. With a muffled thud, the ape elder flew backward, plowing a deep furrow in the ground before coming to a stop.

Oru seized the opportunity from behind and delivered a powerful blow, the totem pole landing squarely on the orc's shoulder.

The force, enough to shatter rocks and break iron, struck the layer of grayish-brown light, yet it only stirred up a barely perceptible ripple; the orc didn't even flinch.

The orc glanced back at him, then raised his hand and punched Oru in the chest.

Oru spat out a mouthful of blood and flew backward, crashing into the same ditch as the ape elder.

Two peak-level Gold Warriors lost their fighting ability in the blink of an eye.

The orc withdrew his fist, looked down at the few faint white marks left on his knuckles, and shook his head in dissatisfaction.

"Is that all you've got? What a disappointment."

The orc looked down at Oru.

"It doesn't matter if you don't hand over the totem. Your clan leader is dead, so this thing should probably fall into your hands now."

"Such an important item, you would carry it with you at all times, right?"

Upon hearing this, Oru and the ape elder's pupils constricted slightly.

The orc had been watching their expressions closely, and upon seeing this, he sneered knowingly.

"Looks like I was right."

"In that case, there's no need to spare your lives."

The orc was about to attack when his expression suddenly changed, and he abruptly turned to look at the camp gate.

In the darkness of night, a beam of dark gold sword light tore through the void like lightning, hurtling towards us.

Almost the instant the orc saw the sword light, it had already reached him.

The orc's expression changed drastically, and he immediately let out a fierce shout, frantically activating the power of the laws.

A rich, grayish-brown light instantly enveloped his entire body, almost materializing.

Just by looking at it, it gives people a sense of indestructibility.

However, in front of the Xuanjin sword light, the layer of grayish-brown light was like thin paper, unable to even provide any resistance, and was instantly pierced and shattered by the sword light.

Before he could even fully activate the power of the laws, the golden sword light had already silently pierced through the gray-brown halo on his body.

The orc only had time to slightly turn his body before the sword light pierced through his shoulder and emerged from his body.

Dark red blood spurted from his shoulder, drawing a shocking arc in the air.

The orc grunted and staggered back half a step.

But he ignored his wounds, his eyes fixed on the swirling sword light, his vertical pupils suddenly shrinking into two needle-like lines.

"Mysterious Gold Sword Light... Fallen Dragon Sword Saint!"

The moment the last word fell, he suddenly retreated, transforming into a streak of grayish-brown light that hurtled wildly into the distance.

He ran away without even looking back.

Everyone was stunned by what they saw.

Before they could react, a faint voice suddenly rang in their ears.

"Since you're here, don't leave."

The next instant, a ball of yellowish light surged out from the void, rapidly expanding in mid-air, its five fingers spreading out to transform into a colossal hand that blotted out the sky and supported the heavens.

The palm lines were like ravines, and the knuckles were like undulating mountains. When the giant palm swept across the camp, even the wind seemed to stand still for a moment.

The orc suddenly looked up, his gaze meeting the giant hand in mid-air.

boom!

A deep, muffled roar, like an entire mountain crashing into the ground.

Smoke and dust billowed up, swirling outwards with gravel and dirt, and the entire camp trembled for several breaths from the impact.

When the smoke and dust cleared, a deep, palm-shaped crater was visible on the ground.

The edges were so clean, as if they had been cut by a giant blade, without a single crack.

This demonstrates the astonishing level of control the person who made the move had over their power.

In the very center of the pit, only a blurry dark mark remained, no longer recognizable as a human figure.

The camp was deathly silent.

Everyone stood there, stunned, staring in disbelief at the scene before them.

The legendary expert who had just crushed two peak Gold Realm experts in front of them is gone just like that?

He was killed with a single palm strike before he even saw his opponent's face?

For a moment, everyone felt their mouths dry and their minds went blank.

Oru and the ape elder struggled to their feet. They looked at each other and could see the shock in each other's eyes.

As peak-level golden warriors who had awakened the power of laws, they were better able than others to appreciate just how terrifying the power displayed by the attacker was in that brief exchange.

It should be noted that the orc possessed the power of rock, known for its formidable defense, yet he was utterly crushed without any resistance.

Such power is truly terrifying!

Peak Legend... no... much more terrifying than Peak Legend!

Even a saint's intervention... is probably nothing more than this!

Recovering from his shock, Oru suddenly remembered the orc's dying words. A thought struck him, and he quickly looked around and shouted:

"Lord Andon, thank you for your help."

laugh!

The Xuanjin sword light suddenly swept over the camp and abruptly stopped.

The sword light faded, and a tall, slender figure appeared in everyone's sight.

Anton's gaze fell on Oru, and his eyebrows rose slightly.

I never expected to run into someone I know here.

The golden-backed ape-man before them was the same one who had traded the Lightning Pillar for a magical artifact he would personally craft in the Hall of Flaming Beacon in the Dark Desolation Fortress.

I never expected to meet again under these circumstances.

Anton didn't reminisce, but simply nodded slightly to Oru, then looked indifferently at the members of the slave-hunting team in the camp.

The members of the slave-hunting team suddenly realized what was happening, and were immediately terrified, screaming as they scattered and fled.

Even legendary experts are dead; they are even less likely to be a match for the person before them.

Before they could escape the camp, a storm of sword light swept across the entire camp like a golden storm, instantly piercing their vital organs.

One by one, figures fell like wheat being harvested.

In front of the torn-off tent, two members of the slave-hunting team responsible for guarding the slaves were so frightened that they collapsed to the ground, their faces pale, unable to even hold their weapons steady.

"Run...run!"

One person was the first to come to his senses and scrambled out of the camp.

However, as soon as he stood up, his body suddenly froze.

A blood-stained blade protruded from his chest.

He looked down at the broken blade, and tried to turn around, but someone pushed him hard from behind, causing him to fall to the ground. He twitched a few times and then fell silent.

The half-elf girl stood behind him, holding a short knife she had picked up from the ground.

Blood was still dripping from the blade, and the hand holding the knife was trembling, yet he gripped the hilt tightly and wouldn't let go.

Her hair was disheveled and her face was stained, but her eyes were frighteningly bright.

The other man was so frightened by what he saw that he took several steps back and frantically tried to draw the short sword from his waist.

But as soon as his fingers touched the hilt of the sword, he found that he couldn't move.

An invisible pressure pressed in from all directions, pinning him to the spot, unable to move even a finger.

The half-elf girl quickly noticed his unusual behavior and rushed forward without hesitation, pointing the tip of her knife at his heart.

The members of the slave-hunting team tried to beg for mercy, but found that they couldn't even move their lips. They could only watch helplessly as the blade in the half-elf girl's hand pierced their chests.

laugh!laugh!

The dagger was thrust in, pulled out, and then thrust in again.

It was repeated five or six times.

Only when the members of the slave-hunting team in front of her were completely dead did the half-elf girl release her grip, letting the dagger fall to the ground. She took two steps back, as if she had exhausted her last bit of strength, swayed, and collapsed to the ground.

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling violently, tears streaming down her face and falling onto the dusty ground.

"Father...Mother...I have avenged you."

His voice was hoarse and broken, as if it were being squeezed out from the depths of his lungs.

By this time, the slave-hunting team in the camp was almost wiped out, leaving only a gold-tier orc that Anton had specially left behind for Lucius, who was following closely behind, to deal with.

On the other side, the ape-man boy recovered from the shock of the half-elf girl's sudden killing spree, struggled to his feet, glanced at the half-elf girl with a complicated look, and then stumbled to Oru's side.

"Father, Elders, are you alright?"

Orlu looked his son up and down a few times and saw that although he was injured, he still had the energy to talk, which made him feel relieved.

"We're fine." Oru waved his hand, unable to resist glancing at the half-elf girl.

He had clearly seen that when the slave hunter tried to retaliate, it was Lord Anton who restrained him, thus giving the half-elf girl the opportunity to take revenge.

He didn't believe this was Lord Anton's act of kindness or a whim.

This half-elf girl must possess something special to attract the extra attention of a legendary swordsman at the pinnacle of power.

He couldn't see anything particularly special about it.

After venting her emotions with a good cry, the half-elf girl quickly calmed down.

She wiped her face, stood up, staggered to Anton, bent her knees, and knelt heavily before him.

His forehead hit the ground with a dull thud.

"Thank you, sir, thank you for letting me avenge my parents!"

Anton gave her a deep look and said, "Raise your head."

The half-elf girl straightened up, but her eyelids remained lowered, and she dared not look directly at Anton.

Despite her disheveled appearance, it was still evident that the girl was beautiful, with almost transparent white skin and an air of aloofness and indifference.

really.

Anton thought to himself.

With his current level of cultivation, even without using magic weapons to test, he can roughly tell whether a person has the aptitude for cultivation just by using his divine sense.

From the moment he noticed the half-elf girl, he sensed something special about her.

Exceptionally outstanding qualifications.

A natural-born cultivator.

It was clearly another spirit.