A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

This wasn't a thrilling battle; Bray's battle was like walking a tightrope.

It's not only not exciting, but it also has a constant chill around you.

Every strike must be deliberate and every step must be precise.

Otherwise, the outcome is easily foreseeable.

“…” Bray remained silent, his mind becoming increasingly focused.

Umkandal has many weaknesses; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he's riddled with them.

However, Bray can't find any of those weaknesses now.

It's too far; this distance of less than 100 meters seems so far.

Faced with this situation, Bray's breathing remained calm, and his expression was so indifferent that it didn't seem like he was in battle.

Bray's indifferent expression was different from those of cold-blooded killers; it wasn't the poker face that symbolized absolute rationality.

His expression was as if he were drinking tea alone, his calmness was astonishing.

"Your performance is truly disappointing."

"I came here in person, and this is all the people I'm facing?" Umkandal sighed, utterly hopeless.

Along with the disappointment came boundless murderous intent.

Since he's just a guy of this caliber, there's no need to test him.

The air solidified, and the ground was pressed down layer by layer.

The powerful impact spread outwards from Umm Kandar in an instant.

The rocks that had turned to dust were piled up again to form a huge sandstone formation.

Even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit; Umkandar unleashed no power in this attack.

Destroy the enemy with all your might, crush them with overwhelming force!

The massive sandstone formations blocked out the sun, preventing any sunlight from reaching the mines below.

It is like a new star, hanging high in the sky.

In the blink of an eye, it rose high into the sky—

Then it fell.

Black Iron species possess the "Meteor Technique," which allows them to create meteors using fire and rocks.

That was a massive spell capable of striking down a city.

Umkandal's attack didn't seem as powerful as his "Meteor Spell".

However, this is an illusion.

His attack was absolutely superior to the magic of the Black Iron race.

No further proof is needed; the facts speak for themselves.

"Meteor Spell" is just a spell, nothing more than a spell.

But this new star, which is about to destroy everything, is not.

There are no spell nodes, and no flow of magic.

The newly created star slowly pressed down, proclaiming its awe-inspiring presence.

The falling star moves extremely slowly, yet every inch it moves gives the illusion that the world is one step closer to destruction.

It was even more terrifying than the devastating meteors falling from the sky.

Escape? Even escaping is impossible.

Everything beneath the rising star was shrouded in immense pressure, unable to even move.

Ordinary people can only watch helplessly as the new star falls, feeling themselves being crushed every second.

"Breclas, one of the restraining forces designated by the World Will—"

"Resist, or perish?" Umkandal roared, his voice carrying an imposing authority.

Bray, however, remained as still as a stagnant pool, without a ripple or a ripple, even his breathing was so steady.

The opponent hasn't even used the "concept" yet, and hasn't even revealed their true form, but the pressure they're putting on Bray is already so great.

This should be considered a crisis.

It's tough... I don't know if I'll die here.

He is a level above "Trialist" Ladonka, practically a demigod overlord.

So that's how it is. The well-deserved title of "Lord of Demigods" seems to truly be true.

It's not arrogance, it's the truth.

“Resist,” Bray murmured, then plunged the broadsword into something, his thumb pushing the blade out.

The time between the sword emerging from its sheath and it being completely detached from it is less than half a second.

This happened very quickly, beyond the range that most people's naked eyes could perceive.

However, this speed is not particularly exaggerated for a Silver-tier race, or even for Umkandal.

Ummkandar was able to capture the entire trajectory of the blade and react accordingly.

But the moment He swung His sword in Bray, He felt a sense of oppression from someone else for the first time.

Just as He can twist and move things without relying on any magic or internal energy.

The energy emanating from the Bray Sword was not magic or internal energy.

It's something more ethereal, perhaps best described as "momentum".

However, this is an aura powerful enough to interfere with reality.

It was precisely because of the momentum with which Bree drew his sword that Umkandar was able to capture the entire trajectory of the sword, yet he was unable to take any action.

Umkandal's "skill" may be extremely high even among Silver-ranked beings, but in the face of Bray, his "skill" is ultimately nothing more than a feather.

Bray's "skill" is just that exaggerated nowadays.

Without such exaggerated "skills," Bray would not have been able to close the gap in strength between Iron and Silver races.

As a guy named Wuming once said, the reason why Black Iron type is weak is that they specialize in "skills". And because they know "skills", Black Iron type is barely considered to be slightly better than Silver type.

Of course, no matter how high an ordinary person's "skill" is, it will seem dispensable compared to having a "concept".

Unless this is exceptionally high.

Unless there is such a person.

The broken sword was drawn and slashed once—but nothing happened.

However, Bray was half a meter closer to Umm Kandar.

And less than a tenth of a second had passed.

The longsword followed the trajectory of the previous strike, immediately followed by the next.

Nothing actually happened; we just got closer to each other.

To others, it looked like Bray was performing a solo sword dance.

One sword strike followed immediately after the next, with no pauses between the movements.

The nine swords were connected without any change, and for ordinary swordsmanship, this could not be called divine speed, or even fast.

Until the very last sword strike, until the tenth sword strike ends.

The sound of swords slicing through the air abruptly ceased, and countless ink streaks flowed along the paths traversed by each sword strike.

"Eighteen Styles" and "Ten Styles"

Even the weakest forces, when combined, can destroy everything.

The so-called "thousand-layer waves" are nothing more than this simple principle.

This wasn't a sword-drawing slash to begin with, and Bray didn't know anything about fancy sword-drawing slashes.

Because drawing a sword requires pulling it out, he did so.

He wouldn't deliberately sheathe his sword back into its sheath just for the sake of a single move.

"..." Bray's left eye had no focus, but when Umkandal met that left eye, he had the illusion that he was being stared at.

“…” Umkandal subconsciously took a small step back.

The star exploded with a roar, turning into dust in mid-air and scattering like fireworks.

The sky was filled with sand, making the surroundings look as if they had been hit by a sandstorm.

The rustling sound was the soft rustling of sand falling from the sky.

Instead of the apocalypse, sandstorms began to fall from the sky.

This scene unfolded suddenly, but neither Bray nor Umm Kandar paused because of it.

Bray's sword continued forward, leaving a long trail of ink as it slashed straight toward Umm Kandar's side.

The point the sword is aimed at is the most vulnerable point, the point that connects to the line of death.

If Umkandar had continued to use his mental powers to disrupt the terrain on a small scale, Bray probably would never have had the chance to get close to Him.

Without the opportunity for close combat, it becomes meaningless no matter how many or how big the opponent's weaknesses are.

However, as expected, as long as the other party has murderous intent towards me, I will definitely have an outburst.

And so, Bray's wait came.

By the time Umkandal broke free from the aura emanating from the sword, it was already almost touching his arm.

The blade seemed to emit the howls of demons at all times, intimidating all enemies of the swordsman.

This sword strike was something Umkandal could neither dodge nor block.

This sword strike is meant to sever the opponent's arm.

However, Ummkandar quickly recovered from his brief surprise and gave Bray a deep look—

"Clang!!!!!" The sword slashed out, and the ground beside Umkandal was whipped up by the aftershocks of the sword, stirring up sand and wind.

"..." Bray's pupils suddenly contracted, and he turned around in disbelief, still in the action of drawing his sword.

His sword missed its mark.

His opponent did nothing, yet his sword missed its mark.

Bray was convinced that his sword strike was sure to hit, but before the sword landed on his opponent, that feeling of certainty vanished.

It vanished without a trace, as if the sword strike had never been aimed at Umkandal at all.

"A brilliant strike, truly worthy of being the strongest restraining force." Umkandal praised Bray, then his cloak billowed as he slammed his left arm heavily into Bray, who was standing right in front of him.

"Bang!" Bray was sent flying, sword and all, and rolled several times on the ground.

However, as he was hit, Bray adjusted his posture so that he was knocked away in the direction of the "black key".

He grabbed the "black key" stuck in the ground, stopping his retreating figure.

"Is it because my strength is too weak?"

“No, it was you who used various methods to weaken my attack to its weakest point.” Umkandal slowly withdrew his hand.

Despite facing Bray's terrifying sword strike, Umkandal remained calm, waiting for Bray to push him to the brink.

He also looked forward to that time.

“Concepts…” Bray muttered to himself, barely able to sense that he was being influenced by concepts.

However, the specific concept itself remains unknown.

It will probably take some time before we know what the other person means.

He calmly looked at Umkandar, casually wiped the blood from under his nose, and then ripped off his blindfold.

One cannot maintain sharp wit all the time; it seems one can only use it when necessary.

This is really bad... How am I supposed to fight this guy?