Elven cultivators

The clash between Anton, Urke, and Zur ended very quickly.

It happened so fast that the orc high command, who were still fighting fiercely in the ruins, didn't have time to react.

When they realized something was wrong, they turned around and found that their chief shaman had been killed and the chieftain had been severely injured.

If Skar hadn't intervened at the last moment to stop the deadly sword light, this chieftain of the Steelmane tribe would probably have followed in Zul's footsteps.

Despite being at the peak of the legendary rank, Anton single-handedly faced two equally powerful opponents. Not only did he not fall behind, but he also managed to kill one and injure the other in a very short time. His strength far exceeded everyone's expectations.

For a moment, the orc leaders who were still fighting were all shocked.

That momentary lapse in concentration can be fatal on the battlefield.

An orc elder was only a fraction of a second too slow, and a battle axe crackling with lightning swept across him from the side, its blade precisely slicing into the seam between his shoulder blade and neck.

Lightning surged into the wound along the axe blade, charring the muscles and blood vessels, causing him to let out a piercing scream.

The orc elder let out a miserable scream and retreated rapidly, but Roman was faster. He flashed to the orc's side like lightning, reversed his axe blade, and slashed horizontally.

A head flew high into the air, tumbled twice in mid-air, and then crashed heavily into the rubble.

On the other side, the elder's thorny vines had silently wrapped around the ankle of another high-ranking orc from underground.

By the time the latter noticed something was wrong, the vines, as thick as a child's arm, had already climbed rapidly up his calves to his waist, their tips piercing the gaps in his armor, growing and spreading at an astonishing speed.

His movements suddenly froze. Before he could break free, he felt a sharp pain in his chest as the tip of a thorny vine pierced his heart with pinpoint accuracy.

Two high-ranking orcs were killed in the blink of an eye on their own side.

The remaining orc leaders' expressions changed drastically. They dared not be distracted any longer and quickly broke free from their opponents, retreating rapidly. In the blink of an eye, they gathered behind Scar, staring at the enemy opposite them with lingering fear.

The high-ranking members of the Silvermoon Clan also stopped fighting and gathered behind Anton.

The two sides, separated by a patch of broken bricks and lingering dust, have once again formed a standoff.

Scar glanced at the disheveled orc leaders behind him, then turned his gaze to Urk.

The latter clutched his wound, his face pale, clenching his teeth so he wouldn't fall, but he no longer had any of the arrogance he had shown before.

Scar frowned, a hint of disappointment and contempt flashing in his eyes, but he said nothing and turned to look at Anton.

"That's enough, Anton." Scar's expression was calm, but his gaze was sharp as a sword. "The Steelmane Tribe has lost this battle. You withdraw your troops now, and the Steelmane Tribe will provide appropriate war reparations later."

Ulke's expression changed slightly upon hearing this. He hesitated, but ultimately gritted his teeth and said nothing.

In today's situation, they have indeed lost.

But as long as they can preserve their strength, they will eventually get their revenge.

Anton gave Ska a deep look and calmly said, "Is the Bloodclaw Clan also going to get involved in this war?"

He had noticed Byron beside Scar long ago and naturally guessed the origin of this wolf-born saint.

Scar narrowed his eyes and said in a deep voice, "The Steelmane Tribe is a friend of the Bloodclaw Clan, and we will not stand idly by while our friends are harmed."

A casually uttered sentence caused the surrounding air to suddenly freeze.

The Silvermoon Clan's high-ranking members all frowned, their gazes turning hostile.

Scar seemed oblivious, her gaze fixed sharply on Anton.

The Steelmane Tribe is key to the Bloodclaw Clan's intervention in the eastern part of the continent, and he absolutely cannot allow the Steelmane Tribe to be destroyed by the Silvermoon Clan.

Anton said calmly, "Is this the Bloodclaw Clan's intention? Or yours?"

Upon hearing this, Scar's lips curled into a faint smile, as if he had heard something amusing.

"Even if it's just my own idea, so what?"

He is a saint.

The top combat force in the Dawn Continent.

Even if it's just his personal opinion, most forces should treat it with caution.

This naturally includes the Silver Moon Clan.

He refused to believe that a force without even the strength of a Saint would dare to defy his will.

Upon hearing this, the orcs, including Urk and Byron, all breathed a sigh of relief.

With Lord Scar in charge, no matter how arrogant the Silvermoon Clan is, they won't be able to cause any trouble.

However, the next moment, Anton's voice shattered the little sense of relief they had just begun to feel.

"Since that's the case, then I'll kill you, and I doubt the Bloodclaw Clan can say anything about it."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone present was stunned.

Urke, Byron, and the others stared at Anton in disbelief, wondering if they had misheard.

What did Anton just say?

He's going to kill Scar?

A legendary-ranking being actually saying he wants to kill a saint?

I've never dreamed of anything this outrageous!

Does this guy even know what he's saying?

Even Scar's usually relaxed and composed expression finally showed some change.

His gaze toward Anton held a hint of surprise.

I've never heard of any legendary figure daring to say such things in front of a saint.

After a moment of silence, Scar slowly spoke, his voice carrying a hint of coldness.

"Kill me?"

"That's quite a boast. I just don't know where your confidence comes from."

The moment the last word was uttered, a murderous glint flashed in Scar's eyes.

Since the Silvermoon Clan has no intention of giving up, then kill their clan leader.

Let them know the consequences of offending the Bloodclaw Clan.

However, Anton acted even faster than him.

The two hundred and fifty-six beams of dark gold sword light hovering above his head suddenly shot out like a golden torrent across the sky, sweeping towards Skarszczek.

Scar's face turned completely grim.

This arrogant and conceited elf actually dared to take the initiative to attack.

A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and he suddenly raised his hand, his five fingers curling up. The blood-red threads wrapped around his fingertips suddenly expanded, transforming into an impenetrable blood curtain that protected Urk, Byron, and the others behind him.

The moment the sword light collided with the blood curtain, a dense, teeth-grinding clang of metal erupted.

Sparks rained down, illuminating the surrounding ruins of the buildings with flickering light.

The blood-red curtain remained completely still.

Scar then waved his hand, and the blood curtain suddenly exploded, transforming back into hundreds and thousands of thin blood lines, which shot towards Anton with lightning speed, leaving countless fine traces in the air.

Upon seeing this, the high-ranking officials on both sides retreated, completely relinquishing the central area of ​​the battlefield.

No one made a move; everyone's eyes were fixed on the two intersecting figures.

They knew very well that the outcome of this battle would be the key to determining the future course of the situation.

when!when!when!

Sword light and lines of blood clashed intensely in the void.

Those seemingly thin blood lines are far more resilient and harder than ordinary people can imagine, and they are not at all at a disadvantage when they collide head-on with the sword light.

Scar's face was cold, his five fingers loosely clenched.

The blood lines surrounding him suddenly contracted inward, then expanded and twisted outward as if given life, stretching rapidly in the void and instantly condensing into creatures of various shapes.

Lion head, snake body, bat wings, scorpion tail... These creatures are twisted and ferocious, each hundreds of meters tall, their bodies made of dark red blood, covered with fine blood-red patterns, like creatures that have been skinned and reshaped.

They opened their enormous mouths, letting out silent roars, and pounced on Andong from all directions.

Anton's expression remained unchanged, and he flicked his sleeve.

A mysterious curtain of water silently spread out around him, like mercury spilling onto the ground, or like the night falling.

The water curtain rolled forward, like a giant sea monster opening its mouth to swallow the charging beast whole.

Without the slightest struggle, the moment those giant beasts fell into the Northern Darkness True Water, they were as if swept into an abyss by an invisible tide, quickly disintegrating and collapsing, turning back into strands of blood, but they were wrapped up by layers of water curtain, and not a drop of blood could seep out.

Scar frowned slightly.

He could clearly feel that the blood threads he had released were being swallowed and worn away by the water curtain, like iron filings falling into concentrated acid, disappearing little by little.

Before he could figure out what that water curtain was, Anton had already raised his other hand.

A crimson-gold dome flew out from his palm, growing taller in the wind until it transformed into a giant bell tens of feet high, which descended upon Scar.

Nine fire dragons came to life from the reliefs on the wall, opening their huge mouths and spewing out nine torrents of crimson-gold flames, turning the entire space into a blazing furnace.

Scar snorted coldly and reached out to grasp something in the air. Instantly, a massive shield woven from blood threads materialized before him, forcefully cleaving the oncoming torrent of flames in two and splitting it to the sides.

Flames surged from both sides of the shield, and the scorching heat waves burned a thin layer of glassy crust onto the ground, but failed to harm Scar in the slightest.

Anton didn't stop. The Heaven-Turning Seal flew out from his sleeve, swelling up in the wind the moment it left his hand, and crashed down on Ska with a heavy, solid aura.

Before the seal even touched the top of the cover, a dull squeezing sound came from the air, and even the pebbles on the ground were crushed into powder by that invisible pressure.

Since being integrated with the spirit seed and nurtured over the years, the power of the Heaven-Turning Seal has become significantly stronger than before.

Feeling the terrifying pressure descending from the sky, Scar's expression finally became more solemn.

He raised his hand and pushed upwards, causing the blood lines around his body to rapidly condense and instantly transform into a giant blood-red claw, meeting the Heaven-Turning Seal that was crashing down on him.

boom!

A dull, loud bang exploded, sending dust and debris falling from the ruins within a radius of hundreds of meters.

The crimson giant claw was slammed into the ground by the Heaven-Turning Seal, sinking several feet downwards. Cracks spread from the back of the claw to the knuckles, but it did not shatter and barely withstood the blow.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Anton used his sword light and the Nine Dragons Divine Fire Cover to attack alternately, unleashing a variety of supernatural powers to create a dense and fierce attack network.

Scar, using the bloodline condensed by the Crimson Tide Law, constantly changed shape, sometimes transforming into a heavy giant shield to block the overwhelming sword light, sometimes condensing into a sharp spear to pierce through the fire curtain, and sometimes condensing into a giant beast to pounce on Anton.

However, when attacks occasionally struck An Dong, they were blocked by his protective magical artifacts and Yuan Yi True Qi.

The two fought back and forth in the air above the ruins of Steelmane City, and for a time it was impossible to determine a clear winner.

Urke, Bailen, and the others stared blankly at the scene, their faces showing expressions of utter disbelief.