Destiny moved at a speed that was difficult to follow. His feet were as deft as the boots of the wind itself, and even one famous for his speed like Hermes of the 2nd Heaven would have been surprised by what he was seeing. Even though he was not using any inner energy, with his outer energy alone, he had strengthened his physical body to the extent that running at such high speeds did not cause any detriment to him. The only one who was affected by his speed was his enemy. If this were any other foe, Destiny’s speed would have already settled the contest, but his foe was a creature that was neither dead nor alive.The Blood King was faster and stronger than the Blood Golems that came before it, and its movements were akin to that of a rampaging beast that was present everywhere. Such was its speed that while it was that large, it was difficult to tell where exactly it was because it could show up at any place. Due to this, it was more than able to keep up with Destiny; it was faster t
The Blood King was sent flying backwards by the powerful strike, its formerly compact chest sporting a new crack where Destiny had struck it. Unlike when it was sent flying the first time, its retreat was not as lengthy, for it recovered quickly enough to save itself the embarrassment of running a few kilometres to get back; however, its owner was unhappy with its performance.Looking at the new injury on the Blood King’s chest, Chief Priest Kaka could not help but frown in annoyance. While the Blood King’s regenerative abilities meant that the crack would disappear in no time – and it actually had in the few seconds that it took to replant its feet upon the surface of the earth once more – the fact that something that had been summoned with most of his power was getting knocked around like a ragdoll left a bitter taste in the Necromancer’s mouth. While he acknowledged that the Bood King was this unreliable because he as the owner had to little combat experience to pass over to the cr
*BOOM*Like a cannon ball splintering the mast of a large ship, Red Rose crashed into her opponent with the strength of a million mammoths. So brutal was her charge that the sky quaked and space itself feared for its continued existence. Her breath shook the world as she was engulfed in the delight of war, and her aura served as the crown that displayed her majesty. Her rival was no slouch either. His fists were as solid as hers although he was no Barbarian, and while he did rely on the strength of the earth elements to achieve this, it mattered not. That was his talent and right, just as it was Red Rose’s talent and right to apply her mind and body to battle – even if it meant doing something other Barbarians did not know how to do.Yes, the arrogant barbarian, one who belonged to a manmade race which disdained the use of techniques and focused on applying only themselves to battle, used a technique herself. A race that was considered too dull to study the complexities involved manip
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