Ark Undead

And in her mind, the dry voice that accompanied the crackling of the campfire reappeared.

"Therefore, the best approach is defense..."

Melantha's auditory hallucination, which she had just heard, gradually faded away, and the words in her memory finally overlapped with the sounds that came out of her moving lips.

"Attack! Slash downwards at the sword!"

Ding!

The sound of metal clashing rang out in front of the two men.

The expert frowned slightly as he looked at the hilt of the katana in his hand.

He blocked the blade of the straight sword with the hilt, which had only a slight gap between it and the blade.

If he hadn't reacted quickly enough, the girl's knife would have severed his wrist before he could even reach her neck.

Completely ignoring the threat posed by his own blade, and instead, under such immense pressure, resolutely advancing and slashing downwards?

This offensive-defense style of combat is exactly the same as his own tactics!

The girl in front of me had completely lost the sparkle in her eyes.

His lifeless eyes made it impossible to discern where his gaze was focused. But the expert could feel a gaze moving from the hilt of his sword, tracing his body, trying to find any flaws in his defenses.

And once again, Little Melansha began to mutter to herself.

"No success. Advance again, flip both hands and stab upwards."

Just as she silently recited, the straight sword in her small hand, which was originally held in a downward slashing posture, was now completely abandoned in her previous focused wrist position.

Instead, he flipped his arm and brought it slightly back to his face, then stepped forward with his right foot.

He stretched his arms forward again and thrust the knife straight in.

"It's here!"

Yato patted the shoulder of the Doberman beside him and said with a hint of excitement.

Dobermann didn't have time to tell Nightblade to go easy on her; she was also focused on Melantha's attack patterns.

This strike was completely different from the thrusting techniques of Eastern swordsmanship; rather, it resembled a rapier fighting style.

Melantha's first combat technique before encountering the Undead was actually Victorian fencing, which was primarily for performance.

In her early years, Melansa was physically weak, but it was because she learned the gentler art of fencing that she was able to maintain a relatively healthy state.

This is a set of combat tactics that the Undead tailored for Melantha based on her physical attributes and usage habits.

It is a thrusting technique that blends Eastern swordsmanship with Victorian fencing.

At this moment, the straight knife in Melantha's hand was like a rapier; all her sharpness was concentrated on this point, and she suddenly thrust it towards the expert's heart.

The mark left by this stab was completely different from that of an expert's knife work.

A hint of seriousness flashed in the expert's eyes. He turned around, sheathed his sword, and held it horizontally in front of him.

Ding!

The tip of the straight sword collides with the blade of the katana.

The crisp sound of the steel vibrating rang in their ears.

The expert took a step back.

It was this step back that invigorated everyone's spirits.

Finally, the situation on the field began to change.

Melantha's response successfully turned the experts from offense to defense.

Now, it remains to be seen whether Melanza can firmly grasp this opportunity.

Without hesitation, Melantha stepped forward again, raised her sword, and slashed upwards.

The crisp sound of hammering once again filled the air.

This time, the roles were reversed.

The Feline girl from Rhodes Island finally showed the impression she has always made in this game – unparalleled offensive dominance.

Her slashes grew faster and faster, stirring up ashes and petals from unknown flowers that danced and swirled around the two of them.

The experts showed no signs of weakness, just like Melantha had just done, their defenses always appearing precisely where they should have been.

The frenzied slashes and thrusts were all gracefully and calmly neutralized.

The battle between the two was like a close-quarters sword dance between two masters, each knowing where the next strike would come from.

The blade sliced ​​across Melantha's cheek and the expert's temple, cutting off several strands of hair that swirled in the air before being quickly sliced ​​again by the cold blade, continuing to swirl around the two of them.

This is a battle completely different from the one between Morton and Parishul.

It was a pure clash of strength, a collision of flesh and blood that made one's blood boil and wish one could smash the wall next to them with their own hands.

This match was a contest of skill and agility. Both of their swordsmanship exuded a chilling aura, yet they were captivated by the elegant yet deadly strikes.

The pace quickened, the flashing blades and shadows of their weapons creating a dazzling spectacle, like a screen of light.

"So beautiful..."

"Dubin remarked."

"Xiao Mei finally seized the opportunity."

Doberman has watched Melantha grow up to what it is today.

In her eyes, as long as Melantha doesn't make any fatal mistakes, she has a very high chance of winning the match.

After all, that heroic spirit has already retreated. As long as Melantha can maintain this level of pressure, she at least won't lose.

But right next to Dobermann, Onstan shook his head.

He began to speak.

"Xiao Mei, be careful."

Dobermann and Nightblade, however, did not understand what Onstan meant.

That Heroic Spirit was clearly already under Melantha's control, so how could she...?

The situation in the arena changed subtly the moment Onstan finished speaking.

The expert took another step back, as if he couldn't withstand Melantha's offensive rhythm. He swung the blade in his hand to block Melantha's attacks while pressing his left hand against his left waist.

Melantha continued to make rapid progress, her straight blade slashing at the expert in front of her like a raging storm.

But in the next instant, after the expert parried Melantha's straight knife, he turned the blade towards his own waist.

Splash...

With a teeth-grinding scraping sound, the blade slid into its sheath, while the expert lowered his head, bent over, and concealed his presence.

Melanie had no idea what was going on. In her sight, the expert lowered his head as if he were about to be executed.

The sword in her hand continued to slash downwards as she had anticipated.

She was about to sever the expert's head with a single stroke.

But the immortals outside the arena frowned.

Ding!

With a crisp sound, Melantha's eyes went limp, the straight knife she was holding in her right hand fell to the side, and she lost her balance and could no longer control herself.

what happened? !

Onstan clenched his fist.

"Damn it."

In that split second, the expert anticipated Melantha's attack without seeing the trajectory of her sword and swiftly drew the katana from its sheath.

That was originally the attack stance called Iaijutsu after sheathing the sword.

The expert, after sheathing his sword, mentally rehearsed Melantha's attack route, and successfully drew his sword, striking Melantha at her weakest point, thus disrupting her attack.

This is an advanced technique in Eastern swordsmanship, requiring strength, skill, and combat experience—all are indispensable.

Unless one is a master swordsman, recklessly using such a technique under the enemy's fierce attack will only result in the sword in one's hand being cut in half and losing one's life.

But this heroic spirit was none other than an outstanding expert from the East.

Experts never care about their clothes and attire, even if they look shabby and poor.

He knew that, no matter what, his clothes would be in terrible condition during the battle.

He, on the other hand, would calculate the distance to the sword tip and slightly dodge the attack.

Therefore, there was no physical injury, only a tear in the clothing.

Then and now, just as now and now.

The experts accurately predicted Melantha's attack strategy and disrupted her formation.

Now, having lost all defenses and means of evasion, Melantha has reached her end in a state of apathy.

Without hesitation, the expert handed over the cleaver, his face calm as he watched the blade pierce the girl.

And this is where the battle reaches its climax.

The girl from the Felin tribe only felt a stinging sensation on her body.

When she looked down, she discovered that her chest had been pierced by a blade.

The man standing in front of him looked at him with cold eyes.

The expert pulled out the blade, gave it a slight shake at his side, and shook off the blood.

"good."

This was the only sentence he had uttered since the start of the war, and it was the most fitting way to conclude the battle.

The girl in front of him brought him a fairly good battle.

However, that's all.

He had been somewhat curious as to why she practiced a sword technique similar to his own. But after defeating the girl, he turned back with little interest, waiting for the sacred object to summon him back.