Elven cultivators

Ignoring the shocked or bewildered gazes around him, Anton once again harnessed the Xuanjin sword light hovering around him, merging into the Six Ding Six Jia Formation's offensive like a tide.

The golden sword lights simultaneously slashed into Ska's defensive gaps from different directions, their angles tricky and their momentum fierce. They overlapped with the surging thunder, flames, sword blades, and dark water in the formation, transforming into an impenetrable torrent of killing intent.

For a time, Scar had to deal with the overwhelming force of the Six Ding Six Jia Formation and guard against the sword lights that came from tricky angles. His figure was constantly shifting and dodging in the formation, struggling to defend himself. He had long lost his previous calm and confident demeanor.

In just three or four breaths, several bloody gashes appeared on his shoulder blades, ribs, and waist.

The edges of the wound were as smooth as if they had been sliced ​​by a sharp blade. The thin film of blood that the Crimson Tide Law had condensed on his body surface did not even have time to heal before it was torn apart by the next wave of attacks.

Scar's face was ashen. His previous haughty composure had vanished, replaced by barely suppressed shock and anger, and a hint of panic that even he himself was unwilling to admit.

He let out a low roar, and the blood lines around his body suddenly spread outward, like a blood-red flower that suddenly bloomed, trying to break the array's confinement with an explosive surge of red tide, in order to buy himself a moment of respite.

However, the suppressive power of the Six Ding Six Jia Formation far exceeded his expectations. The blood lines that had just spread out were crushed and forced back in the blink of an eye.

His struggles were destined to be in vain.

Scar's expression changed again; he had never experienced such complete suppression before.

It was as if his laws had become a caged beast in this space, possessing brute force but having nowhere to exert it.

His gaze pierced through the layers of array light curtains and landed on the figure standing outside the array with his hands behind his back. For the first time, he truly felt the urge to retreat.

However, the moment the thought crossed his mind, the situation changed drastically.

The 256 sword lights swirling around suddenly retracted, like rivers flowing into the sea, instantly collapsing into a single, clear sword light as bright as starlight.

The next instant, a sword light suddenly shot out, hurtling towards Scar.

The true form of the sword pellet!

Scar's pupils contracted sharply, alarm bells rang wildly in his mind, and he instinctively wanted to pull away and dodge.

But the suppression of the Six Ding Six Jia Formation was like a mountain collapsing down, pinning him firmly to the spot.

Scar could only do his best to turn his body, trying to meet the fatal blow with his shoulder blade.

But the sword light turned slightly just before it touched his body, like a serpent flicking its tail, and passed through the thinnest gap in his defenses.

laugh.

A very soft thud, like cloth being sliced ​​open by a sharp blade.

Scar's movements suddenly froze.

He looked down and saw a clear wound on his chest, the edges of which were as smooth as if they had been cut with a ruler.

The blood lines formed by the Crimson Tide Law around him shattered inch by inch around the wound, turning into dark red powder that scattered in the wind, like a broken mirror that could never be put back together.

"How could this be...?"

Scar's face showed a look of bewilderment and resentment.

He never imagined that he would one day die at the hands of a legendary figure.

"You... monster..."

Scar stared intently at Anton, his lips moved, and he managed to utter a few words before falling backward like a felled log, silently crashing into the rubble where the blood tide was receding, raising a cloud of fine dust.

At this moment, the high-level combat forces of both sides fell into a deathly silence.

Urk and Byron stared blankly at the figure lying on the ground, their faces drained of color, as if an invisible hand had gripped their throats, rendering them unable to utter a sound.

A dignified saint... actually died at the hands of a legendary figure?

The scene before them was completely beyond their comprehension, giving them a sense of absurdity, as if they were in a dream.

The frozen silence was finally broken when a spatial ring flew off Scar's corpse and silently landed in Anton's palm.

Urke and Byron both shuddered as they met Anton's indifferent and calm eyes.

Urk practically blurted out, "Lord Anton, no, Lord Anton, we surrender. The Steelmane Tribe is willing to submit!"

He spoke so urgently and quickly, as if he would follow in Scar's footsteps if he hesitated even for a moment.

Scar's death had completely shattered the last shred of hope in his heart.

The military strength of the Steelmane Tribe was no match for the Silvermoon Clan's surprise attack, and its top combat forces were completely crushed. Continuing to resist would only lead to their demise.

Byron cried out urgently, "I am a member of the Bloodclaw Clan! You can't kill me! If you kill me, the Bloodclaw Clan will never let this go! You... your Silvermoon Clan doesn't want to start a war with the Bloodclaw Clan at this time, does it?"

Faced with these words, Anton didn't even bother to refute them.

He's already killed Scar, what's one more legendary rank he needs?

The next moment, a beam of dark gold sword light silently swept past, piercing Byron's brow.

His eyes widened, his expression frozen between fear and resentment. He stood stiffly for a moment before falling backward and crashing heavily into the rubble.

Urke's pupils contracted sharply, and he darted backward at lightning speed.

But it was too late.

A dense array of dark gold sword lights swept in from all directions, completely engulfing him like a tidal wave.

When the sword light separated again, only the blood mist drifting in the air and a spatial ring slowly flying towards Anton's palm remained in the original spot.

Immediately following, streaks of sword light swept across the battlefield, slaying the remaining high-ranking orcs one by one.

After doing all this, Anton retrieved the sword pellet and the guardian deity.

The Silvermoon Clan's high-ranking members exchanged glances, their faces beaming with joy. Then, they couldn't help but look at Anton's figure with a sigh.

From the very beginning, they held an unwavering belief in their patriarch's victory. But belief is one thing, witnessing a saint fall before them was a shock that left them deeply disturbed for a long time.

After all, that's the pinnacle of combat power on the Dawn Continent, a height that countless forces look up to their entire lives but dare not touch.

However, the clan patriarch personally brought such a figure down from the clouds.

The war within the city was now nearing its end.

While Anton and the others were fighting, the Silver Moon Legion had already mobilized, joining forces with foreign armies and the Taoist Legion to completely defeat the orc garrison in the city.

Anton's gaze swept over the ravaged Steelmane City, and he instructed the clan leaders: "Leave a portion of the troops to clean up the battlefield, take over the city, and inventory the spoils. The rest of the army will ride the three Flying Star Towers and seize the Steelmane tribe's other strategic strongholds and resource points in the Thunder River Basin as quickly as possible. Don't give them a chance to breathe."

"Yes, clan chief."

After receiving their orders, everyone dispersed and got busy.

The hatches of the Flying Star Tower reopened, and squads of elven soldiers and foreign troops filed in, the clanging of armor and the sound of boots clashing against the gangway echoing through the ruins.

Without lingering, Anton transformed into a streak of dark gold sword light and soared into the sky, disappearing into the northern horizon in an instant.

When they returned to the City of Primordial Beginning, dusk had already fallen.

After passing through the corridor of the Nine Heavens Tower, Anton returned to the quiet room, sat cross-legged on the futon, and then took out the two spatial rings to start counting his spoils.

Most of the Steelfur tribe's resources are probably stored in the warehouse.

But the truly valuable items were most likely carried by Chief Urk himself.

However, after taking stock, Anton was somewhat disappointed.

Ulk's spatial ring does indeed contain quite a lot of items.

Rare ores, magic stones, herbs, and magical items were piled up in layers, enough to make a small force envious for quite some time.

But there wasn't a single treasure that truly caught his eye.

However, at his current level, there are indeed very few things that can truly impress him.

Anton then picked up Scar's spatial ring and probed it with his divine sense.

It was also filled with all kinds of rare materials, and the quality was even better than that of Urk.

But after scanning the area, Anton still couldn't find anything that caught his eye, though one thing did pique his interest.

It was something that looked like a stone.

It is no bigger than a fist, and its body is a warm grayish-white with layers of cloud-like patterns on the surface, as if it were wrapped in several layers of thin gauze.

It felt slightly cool to the touch, as if I were holding a wisp of solidified morning mist.

Through those translucent patterns, one can vaguely see a blurry outline inside, with limbs curled up, exuding an indescribable ancient tranquility.

Anton held the stone in his palm and examined it for a moment. Then he tried to probe it with a wisp of his divine sense and quickly detected a very faint pulse of life.

He raised an eyebrow, immediately understanding.

This isn't a rock at all; it's clearly an egg.

Combined with the cloud-like patterns on the surface of the object, Anton immediately recognized its origin.

"The Egg of the Old World..."

The so-called Old World Eggs are actually eggs laid by some kind of divine creature in ancient times, buried deep between rock layers, and have survived to this day through long geological changes.

There are very few records of this thing in the present world of Dawn Continent.

In Anton's memory, only after the outbreak of the Undead Scourge did a few Old World Eggs come to light.

I have no idea where Scar got his hands on it.

"This is a good thing."

Anton's eyes lit up slightly.

If enough life force is injected into the egg of the old world, it can be revived and the divine creature inside can be hatched again.

It should be noted that adult divine beings are at least at the saint level, and are extremely powerful.

If they could raise a divine creature, it would greatly enhance both their own strength and the foundation of the Silver Moon Clan.

Anton put the egg into his storage bag, planning to take his time later to figure out how to infuse it with life force.

After that, he put away the two spatial rings and began to review the day's battle.

Strictly speaking, today's fight with Scar was his first real battle against a saint.

In his previous encounter with the Stormwing Dragon, the latter was injured and its combat power was significantly reduced, so he could not fully demonstrate the gap between him and the Saint.

The "sainthood" of a saint is essentially "sanctification".

They have completely integrated the laws they have mastered into their souls and flesh, making them an integral part of their existence.

For a sage, the laws are no longer an external force that needs to be mobilized, but as natural as breathing, and can even begin to influence the surrounding world.

In the Dawn Continent, saints can be roughly divided into four realms.

The first realm is the Sainthood Realm.

At this level, the laws have become one with the individual, greatly enhancing the precision of their control over the laws and allowing them to subtly influence the surrounding environment.

The severely injured Stormwing Dragon back then, and Scar today, are both at this level.

Although it is only the lowest level of Saint, the Sainthood Realm can easily defeat several peak Legends.

It would take at least ten top-tier legends working together to pose a threat to it.

Above that is the realm of resonance.

At this level, a sage can establish a stable resonance with the elemental origin or world rules corresponding to their own laws, actively listen to the laws of heaven and earth, and continuously amplify the power of their own laws through resonance.

The third realm is the pinnacle of sainthood.

If the increase in power of the saints in the first two realms is essentially an enhancement of the degree to which their own laws influence the world.

So the pinnacle of sainthood is about "rewriting" the world.

They allowed the laws of nature within a certain range to temporarily operate according to their own will.

For example, an open space can be turned into scorched earth in an instant, a patch of scorched earth can bloom into ice flowers in a flash, and flames can burn even brighter in the rain... and so on.

But this rewriting is only temporary.

Once the saint's will is withdrawn, the surrounding environment will return to its original state.

Even so, this kind of "real-world" suppression is enough to make the power of the Saint's Peak far surpass the previous two realms.

The battle between the pinnacle of sainthood is often described as "a clash of two world laws".

To the pinnacle of saints, even the most legendary figures are no different from ants.

No matter how many legendary figures there are, they cannot pose any threat to the pinnacle of sainthood.

Even those who have attained sainthood or resonated with the same spirit often need to work together to barely contend with those at the pinnacle of sainthood.

Above that are the divine beings.

When a saint condenses a divine seed within his body, he will enter the final realm.

They can, through their own will, condense a domain around themselves that is completely filled with their own laws, far exceeding the law interference that legendary or saintly beings can achieve.

Within that domain, lower-level laws are rejected or even suppressed, becoming almost ineffective.

The divine beings are currently the most powerful fighting force on the Dawn Continent.

One more step forward and you'll reach the demigod realm.

Anton estimated that his true combat strength was around the level of the Saintly Transformation Realm.

It's not outstanding, just below average.

If the twelve guardian deities are added, killing a Saintly Realm expert will not be a problem.

It can also put up a fight against those in the Resonance Realm.

Even if victory is difficult, they can still protect themselves.

However, once he advances to the Nascent Soul stage, even if it's just the initial stage, his combat strength will at least be at the Resonance Realm, and he might even reach the pinnacle of Sainthood.

"Nascent Soul stage..."

Anton let out a long breath, collected his thoughts, closed his eyes, and began to cultivate.

Only by completing nine repetitions of fetal breathing as soon as possible can one begin to cultivate one's mental state.