At the eye of the storm, the vortex of ambient energy that had churned throughout Silverwood Prefecture had yet to subside.
A figure tore through the sky like an enraged meteor, landing heavily on the roof of a teahouse across the street with a piercing rush of wind. Tiles crunched under his feet, yet he remained motionless, his opulent elder's robes fluttering wildly in the gale like a battle flag unfurled. It was Elder Horace, his wrinkled face now so grim it seemed to drip with water. His hawk-like gaze was fixed on the center of the energy storm.
Behind him, a handsome young man in silver chainmail armor followed closely, his movements betraying a hint of urgency and viciousness. This was Sir Aldric, Isolde's fiancé. He looked at the carriage, now reduced to dust, without a hint of concern for his betrothed, only icy killing intent.
"Master," Sir Aldric's voice held a barely suppressed impatience, "It's them! Don't let him succeed!"
"Of course, I know!" Horace's voice was like two rough stones grinding together, every word laced with murderous intent. "A greenhorn who has just entered the Champion realm, his foundation unstable, his aura fluctuating—this is his weakest moment! If we don't kill him now, he will surely become a grave threat in the future!"
He didn't hesitate for a moment. This Champion Rank 2 expert struck decisively towards the energy vortex.
He didn't approach. He simply raised his withered right hand, splayed his fingers, and slammed it down as if grabbing the ground!
RUMBLE!
The entire flagstone street vibrated violently, as if an earth dragon had stirred. Countless shattered flagstones, bricks, and even the earth beneath them, defying all logic, floated into the air, coalescing into a gray torrent of debris. The torrent churned, emitting a teeth-grinding crunch as it roared like a living serpent made of sharp teeth and fury, tearing towards the meager remains of the carriage at the storm's center!
On both sides of the street, the martial artists who had been forced to their knees by the overwhelming pressure showed expressions of despair. This was the power of a Champion expert—with a mere flick of the wrist, they could command the might of heaven and earth! Under this single strike, the newly ascended Champion, along with his companion, would likely be ground into paste!
As the torrent of rubble swept past, the air shrieked under the pressure.
However, just as the devastating torrent was about to consume everything, a figure slowly rose from beside the wreckage of the carriage.
It was the always silent and inconspicuous driver.
Valerius Caedo still wore his dusty linen clothes, his face devoid of any expression, as if the world-ending attack before him were nothing more than a gentle breeze. He simply raised his right hand calmly, palm forward, his movement as soft as pushing open a slightly ajar door.
There was no earth-shattering aura, no dazzling light.
Only a subtle, ripple-like distortion appeared in the air directly in front of his palm.
The moment the furious torrent of rubble touched that distorted air, it was as if a thousand rivers had flowed into the sea. All sounds, all power, all murderous intent, were silently and completely swallowed by that seemingly frail palm.
The Myriad Rivers Return to the Sea.
The next instant, Caedo gently flicked his wrist.
The distorted air spat outwards with a sudden force!
OM—!
The torrent of rubble, more ferocious, more concentrated, and more lethal than before, roared back with a piercing rush of wind! Each piece of debris was enveloped in a layer of condensed True Qi, moving so fast that it left streaks of grey afterimages in the air, like a rain of death, hurtling back towards Elder Horace and his disciple on the teahouse roof!
"What?!"
The savage grin on Elder Horace's face froze, replaced by utter shock and disbelief! He couldn't fathom how his opponent had achieved this!
Without time to think, he roared, thrusting both palms forward. His profound Champion True Qi constructed a translucent, thick shield of aura before him, like a city wall!
RUMBLE!
The rain of rubble slammed violently into the aura shield, creating a deafening explosion. Horace felt an overwhelming, mountain-toppling force. His blood surged, and the tiles beneath him were utterly pulverized. He narrowly managed to block the deadly counter-attack, but the members of the Trident League behind him, and his beloved disciple Sir Aldric, were not so fortunate.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Screams rang out one after another. The thugs exploded like watermelons struck by a giant hammer, instantly turning into clouds of blood mist. Though Sir Aldric reacted quickly, channeling his energy to defend, several pieces of rubble still grazed him. He grunted, a trickle of blood escaping his lips. He had already sustained serious internal injuries.
In a single exchange, the offense and defense reversed, leaving heavy casualties!
"You... you are also a Champion?!" Horace stared intently at the "driver" who remained as calm as still water, his voice sharp with shock.
He finally realized what kind of hard iron plate he had kicked!
The Cloud-Linking Palm!
Horace dared not hold back another shred of power, pushing his True Qi to its absolute limit. A layer of white light, swirling like clouds, appeared on both his palms. He unleashed a strike, its power layered like crashing waves, each stronger than the last, surging forward with a force that could level mountains, directed at Caedo!
This was his signature technique, capable of shattering stone tablets and toppling fortresses!
Facing this full-power strike, Valerius Caedo didn't even twitch an eyelid. He neither dodged nor retreated. Instead, a faint, glassy golden sheen appeared around his body, warm and profound, as if merged with the very earth.
The Vajra Body Protection.
BANG—!!!
A dull roar, like an ancient bell being struck, echoed throughout the entire street.
Horace's palm strike, capable of shattering mountains, landed squarely on Caedo's chest.
Yet, Caedo's body remained utterly motionless.
It was Horace who recoiled, as if he had punched the legendary Mount Buzhou with all his might. An irresistible force, several times more profound than his own palm strike, surged back through his arms, shattering them bone by bone!
CRACK!
The bones in his arms emitted a series of sickening, grinding snaps as they fractured completely!
GASP!
Horace was struck as if by lightning. He flew backward like a kite with a severed string, spitting a jet of blood in mid-air before smashing heavily through the wall of the teahouse behind him, buried beneath the ruins.
One move, complete defeat!
The entire street fell into a dead silence. Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at the "driver" who still stood with his hands behind his back, not a single corner of his clothes disturbed, their eyes filled with awe and terror.
Just then, the wild energy vortex finally began to subside.
A figure slowly emerged from the dissipating light.
In Finn's hand was a newly materialized longsword. Its blade was slender and bore a strange, dark red hue, like solidified blood. At the center of the blade, a deeper crimson line ran from tip to hilt, like an eternally un-drying tear sealed within steel.
The Crimson Tear.
He raised his eyes, those orbs interlaced with violet and crimson light, and calmly gazed at the ruins of the teahouse, at the horrified Elder Horace struggling to crawl out of the rubble, and at the ashen-faced, venomous Sir Aldric beside him.
"Now," Finn's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears, carrying an undeniable authority, "we can talk about House Vance."