Elven cultivators

An angry roar echoed across Steelmane City.

The voice carried an almost tangible killing intent, causing the soldiers on both sides fighting below to freeze in their tracks, as if an invisible hand had gripped their hearts.

However, Anton remained completely unmoved.

He looked down at Urk.

"You wanted war, so we came." Anton's voice rang out slowly, clearly piercing through the noise and roar of the battlefield. "Why do you all look... not very happy?"

Upon hearing this, Urke's eyes immediately turned bloodshot.

He roared and his figure shot up instantly, rushing towards Anton in the air at high speed.

Zul also rose up at the same time.

The two legendary powerhouses of the Steelmane Tribe reached a tacit understanding instantly without needing to communicate.

If they can kill Anton, they will still have a chance to turn the tide in this battle!

Anton smiled wryly, and the Xuanjin Sword Pellet leaped out of his chest like a blazing sun blooming in the darkness. It then exploded into hundreds of streams of light, emitting a clear and melodious sword cry.

Two hundred and fifty-six beams of dark gold sword light traversed the sky, like a giant net woven from golden threads, descending upon Urk and Zul simultaneously.

At the same time, the legendary powerhouses from both sides clashed, each finding their opponent and engaging in fierce battle.

Skar stood on the remnants of a tower that had not yet completely collapsed, ignoring the legendary warriors who were fighting each other, his gaze fixed on the battle between Urk, Zul, and Anton.

Urke's arms were somehow enveloped in a visible dark gray halo as he punched the incoming Xuanjin sword light.

With each punch, the air within a radius of hundreds of meters would freeze for a moment, and the rubble and dust would be pressed tightly to the ground by the invisible weight, unable to even be lifted up.

Scar immediately recognized that it was a sign that the Law of Pressure had been pushed to its limit.

On the other side, Zul was enveloped in a layer of constantly leaping purple-white lightning. Lightning bolts as thick as an arm shot out from his palm, drawing scorched trails in the sky above the city wall, colliding heavily with the Xuanjin sword light, exploding into countless shattered arcs of electricity.

"Lord Scar," Byron, recovering from his initial shock, swallowed hard and asked in a low voice, "Should we make a move?"

Scar did not answer immediately.

He continued to gaze at the sky, his eyes deep and thoughtful, before finally shaking his head slightly.

"No need. Urk and Zul together are more than enough to deal with Anton alone."

His tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable certainty.

"Anton is too arrogant."

"If he stays in that tower and uses it to hold off Urk and Zul, he can drag the battle out until the ground fighting ends. By then, Urk and Zul will have no choice but to flee. The Silvermoon Clan will surely win this battle."

At this point, his tone became more disdainful, "But he insisted on personally going out to fight, one against two, against two peak legends... He really doesn't take Urk and Zul seriously at all."

Upon hearing this, Byron's expression relaxed slightly, and he exhaled a breath of stale air that had been pressing on his chest for a long time.

Yes, the Fallen Dragon Sword Saint may have a prestigious reputation, but he was ultimately just a peak legend.

With two legendary figures at their peak joining forces, they are unlikely to lose.

From this perspective, the situation has not yet deteriorated to the point of being beyond repair.

Just as Byron was thinking this, he caught a glimpse of a figure falling from the sky and crashing to the ground not far away like a meteor.

boom!

In an instant, pebbles flew everywhere, and dust swirled up.

Byron stared intently, his pupils suddenly contracting.

The figure that descended from the sky was none other than Zul.

The chief shaman of the Steelmane tribe, a peak legendary expert, was lying face up among broken bricks and dust, with a deep wound running through his chest.

The ruptured chest cavity was empty; the heart that should have been beating within it had been crushed and annihilated.

His eyes were still open, a trace of horror lingering in his pupils, as if he couldn't believe he would die so quickly until the very last moment.

Byron's throat bobbed, as if someone had grabbed his neck, and he couldn't utter a single word.

Scar's expression changed in that instant.

He suddenly looked up at the sky, and for the first time, an undisguised shock appeared deep in his pupils.

High in the sky, Anton's figure remained suspended in the same position, his robes fluttering slightly in the wind, without even deviating half a step.

The sword light he originally wielded had now undergone a strange change.

Half of the sword light became heavy and slow, leaving trails of yellowish-brown as it swept through the void. The air itself seemed to be compressed, carrying a heavy, suffocating feeling.

The other half of the sword light was completely different. It was as fluid as flowing water, with a layer of dark ripples at the edges. Each turn was like the tide washing over the rocks, silent and yet carrying a chilling sense of erosion.

Two completely different sword lights intertwined, like an impenetrable net, wrapping around Urk from all directions.

Ulke was enveloped in a dark gray light, and he pushed the Law of Pressure to its limit. The air within a radius of several hundred meters was compressed to the point of near solidification, and even dust particles were suspended in mid-air and unable to fall.

But he was still being suppressed and couldn't breathe.

Each strike of those sword lights, shimmering with a yellowish hue, felt like an invisible mountain crashing down on his shoulder, numbing his arms and making his bones creak.

The sword light, carrying a dark, shimmering glow, was like water seeping into sand. Although it was blocked by layers of heavy laws, it quietly permeated the interior of the halo, just as water seeps into a crack in a rock.

Each contact silently erodes the foundation of the power of the laws.

The dark gray aura around Ulke's body was thinning at a visible rate, and the area of ​​pressure was constantly shrinking inward, like an earthen wall being repeatedly washed away by the tide, peeling away layer by layer.

He was like a giant beast trapped in an iron cage, possessing immense strength but with nowhere to use it, and every struggle only resulted in more wounds.

Scar's pupils were filled with astonishment and doubt.

Despite facing two opponents alone, Anton not only held his own but also swiftly and decisively killed Zul in a very short time, while also overwhelming Urk with no chance to fight back.

This is a complete and utter crushing defeat!

How could the difference between two top legends of the same level be so great?

This is completely illogical!

If Scar hadn't realized that Anton's control over the laws hadn't yet reached the point of affecting the world around him, he would have suspected that the other party had already advanced to the Saint level.

Just as the thought crossed Scar's mind, a muffled whooshing sound suddenly rang out from high above.

A streak of yellowish-brown sword light pierced through the gap in Urk's defenses, heading straight for his heart.

At the critical moment, Urke activated the power of the law to slow down the sword light for a moment, and his body suddenly flashed to the side, successfully avoiding a fatal blow.

But in an instant, the sword light pierced through his right chest.

He was slammed downwards by the heavy force, barely managing to twist his body in mid-air to avoid falling directly into the ruins.

But the moment his feet touched the ground, his knees buckled, and he almost fell to his knees.

Blood gushed from the wound on his right chest, staining half of his chest red.

Even the most resilient legendary orcs at their peak lost most of their fighting ability after suffering such a severe injury.

Above his head, countless sword lights had already changed direction, swooping down towards him like a flock of eagles hunting their prey.

Urke raised his head, and an intense fear welled up deep in his eyes.

"Lord Scar, save me!"

A piercing scream tore through the clamor of the battlefield, sharp and desperate.

The next instant, Scar appeared out of thin air in front of Urk and reached out to grab at the void.

In an instant, countless fine, hair-like blood-red threads gushed forth from his fingertips, intertwining and spreading in mid-air like living things, weaving into an impenetrable net.

The dense sword light collided with the blood net, as if it had cleaved through a thick leather soaked in blood, and was forcefully blocked.

The sword light touched and then vanished, swiftly returning to gather again beside Anton, forming a slowly rotating golden halo.

Anton narrowed his eyes, his gaze piercing through the blood and dust, landing on Scar.

"The Red Tide Law"

Scar paused slightly as he slowly withdrew his hand, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

His red tide theory is extremely rare.

Even the saints of the five great powers with long-standing traditions might not be able to recognize it if they saw it.

But this elf in front of me called out the name of the Crimson Tide Law after just one glance.

That's quite an insight.

For the first time, Scar's gaze toward Anton held a genuine sense of scrutiny.

He realized he had underestimated Anton from the very beginning.

Whether it's his overwhelming strength in defeating two legendary peak warriors single-handedly, or his extraordinary insight and knowledge, it all demonstrates that this Meteor Dragon Sword Saint is far more unfathomable than the rumors suggest.

Anton was also sizing up Scar.

The Red Tide Law belongs to the intermediate level of fantasy laws.

Its core is very simple: it manipulates blood.

However, unlike many laws that directly affect external objects and blood, the Red Tide Law's manipulation is strictly limited to the caster's own blood.

This is precisely why it achieves an almost extreme level of internalization precision.

The manipulator can adjust the form and properties of blood at the microscopic level, transforming it into extended limbs, ever-changing weapons, or even condensing it into the forms of various legendary creatures.

In short, it's like a tide of blood, changing with one's heart.

This is also a common characteristic of fantasy-related rules.

Most of them are based on the manipulator's cognition and beliefs, and operate in the form of "self-defined laws".

It emphasizes idealism.

In addition, Scar's ability to easily block that attack also proves just how powerful he is.

It far surpasses the peak legendary level; it's a genuine saint level!

A saint who has mastered intermediate-level laws of fantasy and is at the peak of his power!

This is undoubtedly the most formidable opponent Anton has ever faced!