Chapter 377: Storm of Swords!
A white steed was leisurely wandering through a forest.
Suddenly, sensing something, the white horse began to charge wildly.
The massive trees, which would take several people to encircle, were as fragile as paper, easily shattered by the white horse's impact.
At the same time, a fierce wind suddenly appeared, sweeping toward the white horse.
It seemed inevitable that the wind would catch up to the horse.
So, the white horse stopped fleeing, skidding to a halt before turning around.
Its eyes gleaming with ferocity, it let out a roar-like neigh, and the temperature around it began to rise at a terrifying rate.
In the blink of an eye, flames ignited around it, engulfing the white horse entirely.
No, it would be more accurate to say that the white horse itself was emitting flames, charging headlong into the wind.
Strangely, the wind was not dispersed by the impact; instead, it began to coil around and envelop the white horse.
Thus, the struggling white horse was gradually consumed by the wind.
As the white horse vanished, the wind began to condense and take shape, solidifying.
Finally, the figure of a youth appeared.
"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."
The youth, a Heretic God, glanced toward a spot where figures had witnessed him reclaiming his power.
One of the girls began chanting an incantation, a rapier materializing in her hand as she charged toward him.
The distance between them halved in the blink of an eye, and the maiden, like a crimson rose, seemed to enter a world of super speed, arriving before him in an instant to deliver a sharp thrust.
"Clang!"
The metallic clash echoed as the tip of her rapier was blocked by the broad blade of the youth god's golden sword.
"Impressive, a truly sharp strike."
The youth god, holding his sword with one hand to block the attack, praised her.
Then, with what seemed like little effort, he swung casually, and the girl was sent flying as if launched. She should have crashed into a tree, but suddenly halted mid-air.
"Pursuers, become the pair of weapons in my grasp"
As the girl chanted this Word Spirit, a divine tool silhouette appeared in her slender sword and merged into the blade, causing the sword to undergo some changes.
"Oh? This is Melqart's power. Have you become a Campione? No, that doesn't seem right. Then why can you use Melqart's power? Is it him?"
The young god's gaze passed over the girl, landing on a young man. Melqart must have been defeated by him.
How strange—the being he observed appeared to be human?
The next moment, the girl slashed through the air toward him. The young god smiled faintly and responded with his own aerial slash.
"Boom—!"
Their wind blades collided and exploded, the resulting shockwave snapping surrounding trees like twigs.
Amid this impact, the young god merely took a step back, while the girl was sent flying backward some distance before stabilizing.
"Is this the true power of a Heretic God?"
Erica, now steady, gazed solemnly at the Heretic God before her.
Only after truly crossing blades did she realize how arrogant and conceited she had been in the past, and comprehend the terrifying might of a Heretic God.
Although she had withstood an attack from the Heretic God Melqart before, that was when Melqart had been injured.
This time, she truly sensed how unimaginably powerful a Heretic God at full strength could be.
Had she not used Melqart's Authority, that wind blade slash would have certainly killed her.
Her current confrontation with this young god wasn't by his command—Erica had impulsively rushed out to test him.
She had been too eager to use her Authority and spar with a Heretic God.
Suddenly, something brushed past her, startling her into instinctively assuming a defensive stance.
The young god before her suddenly vanished like a mirage—what remained was merely an afterimage he'd left behind.
He had moved past her at a speed she couldn't even react to.
This meant that if he had attacked her just now, she likely wouldn't have been able to respond in time.
So where had this young god gone?
She immediately turned and saw the young god's golden sword clashing with a pale gray blade.
Before she could even blink, their weapons had collided countless times, countless sparks dancing in the air.
"Magnificent! Such sword technique, such death-filled sword artistry! How much death must one bring to reach such perfection!"
The young god exclaimed in admiration, his eyes gradually burning with fervor.
He seemed to have found his match, his lifelong rival, becoming incredibly excited that his opponent could push him to his limits, make him fight with everything he had.
The instant he finished speaking, he abruptly leaped backward as a red line appeared on the right side of his neck, blood spraying forth.
Yet before his retreat could stabilize, before his body could steady itself, even as the blood was just beginning to gush out, the young god's expression changed.
His opponent was swinging the golden sword at speeds Erica couldn't follow, blocking something. As sparks bloomed in the air, wounds from sharp weapons began appearing one after another on the young god's body.
And the wound was eerily shrouded in black mist, causing it to darken.
Thus, Erica stared in astonishment at the master she served, never expecting that in a purely close-quarters weapon clash, the Sword God could be suppressed to such an extent.
"All evil ones, fear my power! Now I possess the might of ten mountains, the strength of a hundred flowing rivers, and the vigor of a thousand camels! What adorns my body is the fierce seal of the camel!"
With the divine youth's incantation, the bleeding from his wounds ceased, and the erosion was suppressed.
Simultaneously, the young god's reflexes sharpened.
From barely managing to parry, he now began to counterattack.
No—the young god abandoned defense entirely, launching a full-scale assault, using offense as his defense!
And the master served by Erica likewise adopted offense as defense. A single misstep in either's attacks would instantly tear the other apart with a blade.
Splat—!
A bear had inadvertently wandered in—no, it was more accurate to say the battleground of the two had encroached upon the bear's territory, leaving it no time to escape.
Thus, the bear instantly burst into a mist of blood, dismembered into countless pieces of flesh.
This wasn't due to either combatant's blade striking the bear; it was merely the result of the wind pressure generated by their high-speed sword swings.