Since he met her fist with hers, she met his elbow with hers. With skill that could only be displayed by Battle Gods with a vast amount of experience, Red Rose carefully deflected the strike, pushing Village Head Samoa before her as a result. Yet, the Unwed Widow was not done. The energy that Village Head Samoa had infused into his elbow was absorbed by Red Rose, going against the natural law that Barbarians could not use inner energy. Well, that law was still in effect, for while she was able to accept inner energy, it was only for a short while. Soon that energy would dissipate. That was, if it was nit going to be used; but that was not what Parried Reflection was about. There was no wasting when it came to techniques created by geniuses. Besides, that was exactly what Parried Reflection was meant to do. Absorb the energy of an opponent, reinforce it with outer energy, and cause it to burst out. As for what would burst out, it was better to experience it for oneself than to hear abo
A powerful aura swept over this space with torrents of murderous energy. Chief Priest Kak could feel his breathing stiffen up as he was forced to stand within the storm of energy that swept over the land. Though he was merely standing before the soul of the former general, the power that this soul possessed was enough to destroy worlds, and his anger served to remind Chief Priest Kaka of who he was! Without being told directly, Chief Priest Kaka knew that he would be killed if his next words were not deemed to be right by the man before him.“Are you messing with me? Can you pay the price for doing so?” Village Head Samoa – no, General Samoa of the Wind Demons – stared at Chief Priest Kaka with bloodthirsty eyes that spoke only of his desire to slaughter the man before him for his silly games. He who only lived for the King would not tolerate any jokes or acts of stupidity. He had tolerated Chief Priest Kaka for this long because they belonged to the same race; however, even he had hi
“Do you really want to do this? Do you truly believe that this is right?” Asherah looked upon the face of the man she had once considered her mentor. Staring at his aged and experienced eyes threatened to bring tears to her own. How could her own mentor have been the one to take away from her the desire to end her terrible fate? For had he not interfered, Pazuzu would have been dead by now.“Even if you had killed him here, it would not have made any difference. Do you really think that this is the only body the King has? Do you assume that he was sealed in only one place? There are a total of three sealing locations. You merely tried to deal with one.” Old Fan spoke with a serene expression on his face. He was calm about everything that was happening and didn’t see his faults. How could he when he was not the one in the wrong?“I know that there are other sealing locations. If I didn’t know something as simple as that, I could never call myself your disciple.” Asherah stated, her wor
“So?” Asherah snorted, her actions showing that she also knew this.“You knew?” Old Fan was surprised. If Asherah knew that the boy was not from their world, why then was she okay with leaving such a great burden upon his shoulders? Asherah merely frowned at his remarks and went on to explain her reasoning.“I wasn’t hundred percent sure, but I had a strong hunch that he was not of our realm. He is the offspring of gods, and from the way he carries himself, it is clear to see that he has been trained in the art of nobility and elegance from a young age. Well, he is still young, but his manners are those of a man trained for at least ten years in the path of proper etiquette. Something like that is only seen in the children of prominent God Clans; yet, I have not heard of a clan that can produce such a child, neither have I heard the names of his parents before. The skills he possesses are largely attributed to his bloodline, and the weapons he uses are not easy to find. He has the lux
In Camelot, once understanding of the blade was crucial. It was this understanding that separated the peasants from the knights of the round table. It was the power of the sword that gave Camelot its title and fame, and it was that power that set its king apart from the rest. But that was also their bane. The swords of Camelot were prouder than the knights that wielded them, and even among the knights, the swords would not easily allow themselves to be used. Durandal was the same. It was blade that belonged to Old Fan’s son and had failed to acknowledge the old man himself. Whenever Old Fan used Durandal, he gave up part of his life as tribute. But, even Durandal had a monarch, for just as there was a monarch in Camelot, there was a monarch of swords, and that monarch had an arbitrator. The sword monarch was a blade that was considered royalty and a fable, and its arbitrator was the sword that led one to the royal blade, Caliburn.Old Fan held Durandal in his left hand, and Caliburn i
“To think you’d abandon your blade,” Asherah chuckled as she stared into the eyes of the man she had once revered above everyone and everything else. Looking at her foot which had been blocked by Old Fan’s forearm, Asherah was reminded once more how much his fighting style had changed. The indomitable warrior who neither retreated nor surrendered was now an old man capable of giving up his blade to stop an attack. This was surreal coming from the man who had taught her that to abandon one’s weapon was the greatest disgrace of a swordsman.“Well, I grew up,” Old Fan chuckled, secretly surprised by the strength contained in that kick. His arm had taken the brunt of the blow and though it was protected by a high grade gauntlet, his bones were creaking and his arm was shaking.“I must have gotten really old,” he concluded, for while Asherah had an unusual amount of strength for an Elemental – no, a weakened Wind Demon – she should not have been enough to shake him so.“Well, since you cou
As though two meteors had crashed into each other, the skies shook and the ground gave way as the earth was made desolate. Pathfinder and the others who were embroiled in their own battles could not help but stop to retreat, for if they stayed as they were, they would be caught up in the storm.“Destiny,” Red Rose called out to her friend and partner, and the latter nodded his head and replied, “I know.”The two retreated hastily, abandoning the Blood King that was ridden with many holes. The Blood King’s eyes shone brightly as it attempted to chase after them, but before it could take another step the ground underneath its feet gave way, and it was sucked into the abyss.“To think that we are not the highlight of today’s events,” Red Rose could not help but marvel at the scene she was witnessing.“Primogenitor,” Pathfinder landed next to the two who had come way before he had, his eyes glued to the energy storm that was turning the entire world upside down. His heart which had been f
Asherah stared at Old fan coldly, her eyes completely devoid of the respect that she had been showing him all this while. He may have betrayed her and hurt her deeply with his actions, but even then her respect for him remained. Even if he stabbed a dagger through her chest, her respect for him will still remain. She may not agree with his methods or his current goals, but he was still someone who had taught her the way of the sword. He was her only master, and a man she had looked up to as a father figure. His large heart had opened up to her even though there was no reason to serve the race of his enemy. That was enough to keep her eyes glistering with respect for him for all eternity, even if that respect was not as broad as it was before; yet, with just one statement, Asherah’s respect for him had been pushed down into the depths of hell – burned and suppressed; never to rise up again.“Do you know what you are asking for? Do you understand what you are requesting of me?” Asherah’