The Storm Sword Saint retreated too quickly for anyone present to react. Before anyone realized it, Grandmaster Magrute the Storm Sword Saint had vanished from the great hall — he had smashed straight through the wall, leaving a man-sized hole in the tapestry wall that had been decorated to resemble palace stone…
Lorist suddenly felt the same exasperation as someone who had spent ages downloading a scandalous drama about forbidden love between a noblewoman and a young man, gotten their pants off, only to click on it and discover it was an animated cartoon about seven little gourd babies. Outrageous — did you think you could run? Lorist snorted in fury and gave chase, determined not to let this self-important Sword Saint who fled at the first sign of real combat escape.
The great hall was enormous. Lorist stood about ten meters from the man-sized hole the Storm Sword Saint had blasted through — right at the edge of his Blood Slaughter Domain. But just as Lorist rushed forward, closing to within two or three meters of the hole in pursuit, he suddenly felt an overwhelming pressure bearing down from outside the tent, like a mountain collapsing upon him.
"Not good…" Lorist's feet sank into the ground, his body instantly becoming as immovable as a mountain, his stance settling into a defensive posture.
The entire tent wall before Lorist's eyes disintegrated into fluttering shreds, drifting gently downward. Whether it was the canvas of the tent or the framework of tempered iron, in that moment they were indistinguishable — every last bit had become flying snowflakes. The tent wall had vanished, and Lorist saw the Storm Sword Saint standing five or six meters away.
"BOOM!" A thunderous roar echoed in the deepest recesses of Lorist's mind, and he couldn't help but let out a cold grunt, staggering back two steps. The Storm Sword Saint opposite him swayed slightly but did not retreat.
This was the result of two Domains colliding. Lorist's Domain was blood-red — a color that couldn't be seen but only felt, carrying a cold, merciless killing intent amidst drenching blood. In this blood-red world, every form of life felt like a sacrifice waiting to be claimed. The Storm Sword Saint's Domain, however, was grey-black — a world of howling winds carrying piercing shrieks and bone-chilling desolation, like a person clinging to a rocky outcrop on a cliff face while being battered by gale-force winds, on the verge of falling at any moment…
So the Storm Sword Saint hadn't fled without a fight — he had been trying to escape Lorist's Blood Slaughter Domain so he could activate his own Storm Domain for a proper confrontation. Damn it! Lorist cursed himself for not seizing the opportunity earlier, letting the Storm Sword Saint slip away for nothing. Within his own Blood Slaughter Domain, Lorist was like a god. He simply hadn't reacted in time, allowing the Storm Sword Saint to get away. Otherwise, there was no way the Storm Sword Saint could have escaped unscathed…
The entire great hall was on the verge of collapse, a scene of utter devastation. Judging by the range of the Domains, the Storm Sword Saint's Domain was clearly about twice the size of Lorist's Blood Slaughter Domain. Everything caught within the Storm Domain in the great hall was being tossed about as if hit by a tornado — rising and falling in midair, spinning, gradually shattering into snowflake-like fragments that drifted down…
The people in the great hall, trying to avoid the overlapping range of both Domains, were retreating step by step, moving behind the platform where the throne sat. Some even followed the Storm Sword Saint's example, drawing their swords to slash through the tent wall and flee the hall entirely. The kingdom's nobles and the
In terms of perception, though the Storm Sword Saint's Domain covered twice the area of Lorist's Blood Slaughter Domain, it lacked that same sense of density and solidity. It was like a large plate holding a small bowl, the two colliding violently. To the watching nobles, Lorist and the Storm Sword Saint appeared to be locked in combat where their Domains overlapped, their movements absurdly slow — both executing attacks and defenses at a glacial pace…
Lorist was already drenched in sweat. What he had never anticipated was that the overlapping of two Domains would press upon him with the weight of a mountain. It wasn't just his body that felt the crushing heaviness — the sword in his hand had become as heavy as a thousand jin, nearly impossible to lift. The blood-red gale had solidified into enormous blades that slowly swept past his body. Lorist forced his feet to shuffle forward one step at a time, then slowly raised his sword and thrust toward the Storm Sword Saint.
The Storm Sword Saint was in an even more difficult position. Even with more experience fighting other Sword Saints than Lorist, he hadn't expected Lorist's blood-red Domain to make him feel as though he had sunk into a quagmire. Utterly bizarre — it was like falling into a basin of rice paste. His Storm Domain was built on speed, ferocity, and overwhelming force, but now that it overlapped with Lorist's Blood Slaughter Domain, the wind could no longer be summoned. Every movement felt sluggish and hampered. Moreover, the pressure was immense — his actions couldn't flow smoothly, forcing him to use slow motion to defend against Lorist's attacks. He couldn't stop cursing inwardly.
Thus they fought in what appeared to be comically slow motion: you slowly thrust a sword at me, I slowly parry, then slowly counter with a slash of my own…
Lorist was growing anxious. His Blood Slaughter Domain could only last fifteen minutes, and he had already been locked in this slow-motion battle with the Storm Sword Saint for ten-odd minutes, neither able to gain the upper hand. If this stalemate continued, once his Domain collapsed while the Storm Sword Saint's was still active, the consequences would be unthinkable.
Lorist needed to find a way to inflict a critical wound on the Storm Sword Saint immediately. He tried to close the distance, but the Storm Sword Saint was extremely experienced and cunning — when Lorist pressed forward, he retreated, always maintaining the distance of one sword length between them. The seasoned Storm Sword Saint had likely seen through the fundamental weakness of Lorist's Blood Slaughter Domain: that it couldn't be sustained indefinitely. He was stalling, waiting for the moment Lorist's Domain collapsed.
There was no other option. A look of grim resolve appeared in Lorist's eyes. When the Storm Sword Saint deflected his sword and immediately thrust toward his chest, Lorist neither dodged nor blocked — he simply thrust his chest forward to meet the blade. The icy sword tip pierced his body, passing clean through and out his back. The sensation of the blade entering in agonizing slow motion brought Lorist an excruciating, enduring pain. Gritting his teeth, Lorist continued pressing forward, his right hand tracing a half-arc with his deflected sword, slashing diagonally downward…
The Storm Sword Saint was horrified. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined Lorist would resort to a mutual-destruction gambit, trading his life for a kill. His sword was already embedded in Lorist's chest — there was no time to withdraw it or to slice sideways and carve through the body. Lorist's slowly descending diagonal slash would inevitably take the Storm Sword Saint's head first.
The Storm Sword Saint had absolutely no desire to accompany Lorist to the afterlife. He had two options: first, retreat, but he would have to abandon the sword impaling Lorist's chest, and he might even be opened up by the diagonal slash. Second, press forward and close the distance with Lorist to evade the blade — this was the optimal choice. By closing in on Lorist, the diagonal slash couldn't deal him a fatal wound, while he still held Lorist's life in his hands. Without releasing his sword, a single horizontal slash after evading this strike would cleave Lorist in two…
The Storm Sword Saint chose the second option without hesitation. In his eyes, Lorist was seeking his own death. He took a diagonal step and pressed sideways against Lorist. Once the slash lost its momentum, he could shoulder Lorist aside with his left and finish him with a sweep of the sword in his right. But what he hadn't anticipated was that Lorist simultaneously shifted horizontally — in effect, the two had swapped positions. Lorist's long-planned left palm struck the Storm Sword Saint's chest, unleashing a devastating burst of inch-force.
From the onlookers' perspective, Lorist was finished. The Storm Sword Saint had driven his sword into Lorist's chest, closed the distance to evade Lorist's desperate counter-slash, and Lorist's slowly delivered left palm strike appeared to everyone as nothing more than an unconscious attempt to push the Storm Sword Saint away.
It was over. The Second Prince and all the kingdom nobles wore expressions of despair once more. The Storm Sword Saint had defeated Lorist after all, and nothing had changed…
A faint crunching sound was heard. The Storm Sword Saint, pressed tightly against Lorist, suddenly flushed crimson, opened his mouth, and sprayed a great mouthful of blood directly onto Lorist's face. Then the area of his back behind where Lorist's palm had struck bulged outward, and his entire body was launched high into the air, rolling end over end before crashing onto the platform before the throne, writhing like a dying dog, vomiting mouthful after mouthful of blood…
Both Domains suddenly vanished — whether it was the Storm Domain of the Storm Sword Saint, who lay prostrate on the golden silk carpet before the throne platform vomiting blood, or the Blood Slaughter Domain of Lorist, whose body swayed as he struggled to stand upright with a sword still lodged in his chest — in that instant, both disappeared without a trace. The battered and ruined hall finally fell silent.
No one had expected such a dramatic reversal just when Lorist appeared to be on the verge of defeat and death. Even though no one could quite figure out how Lorist had managed to turn the situation into mutual destruction, the fact that the Storm Sword Saint now lay dying like a dead dog was undeniable. The Second Prince and all the kingdom's nobles simultaneously fixed their gazes on Grandmaster Magrute, their looks of despair instantly transforming into ecstasy and fervor. Their hands had already begun drifting of their own accord to the hilts of their swords. At this moment, they looked upon the Storm Sword Saint the way one might look upon a beautiful but helpless woman — especially one who was completely naked…
"Glug." Marquis Kelilos swallowed hard, then turned to meet the Second Prince's half-smiling, half-meaningful gaze. The Second Prince's face still wore a contradictory mixture of despair and ecstasy, making his expression at that moment appear all the more sinister and venomous. Marquis Kelilos felt his legs go weak, struck by an overwhelming desire to collapse onto the ground and an urgent need to relieve himself.
"Y-Your M-Majesty, we… we are envoys. Even if negotiations have broken down, you… you should still release… release us. That… that would be in keeping with the etiquette and dignity of the royal house…" Marquis Kelilos forced himself to speak, his voice dry and strained.
"Heh heh, Lord Kelilos, rest assured — we will certainly let you leave. As for this Storm Sword Saint and your escort, however, the outcome is simple. Heh heh…" The Second Prince waved his hand with a grin. "Kill them!"
It was a foregone conclusion that the Storm Sword Saint was finished. One could only imagine how the Second Prince, who harbored a bone-deep hatred for the Storm Sword Saint, would treat this envoy from the Commercial Alliance…
A chorus of swords being drawn rang out in unison. If the Storm Sword Saint were still in perfect condition, these kingdom nobles and Great Swordmasters would all be cowering like turtles, lambs waiting for slaughter. But now that the Storm Sword Saint and Lorist had fought to mutual destruction, anyone with eyes could see he was practically done for. No one wanted to miss the chance to beat a drowning dog. Slaying a Sword Saint was an honor that could make one a legend — a glory that one's family could proudly recount for the next hundred years. Who wouldn't scramble to be the first…
The first to rush onto the platform was Manster, the Great Swordmaster who served as the Second Prince's bodyguard. A second-rank Great Swordmaster, Manster was a very cautious man. Though he was the first to reach the platform, his first thrust was aimed only at the Storm Sword Saint's left ribs — a probe to test whether the Storm Sword Saint still had the strength to fight back. The Storm Sword Saint cried out in pain as Manster's blade carved a deep gash in his left side, blood gushing forth. Manster startled, pulled back his sword and retreated two steps, but the Storm Sword Saint didn't counterattack. Instead, he rolled over and sat up, no longer lying prostrate, and the vomiting of blood had stopped.
The second to reach the platform was Reidi, but he didn't even glance at the Storm Sword Saint — he charged straight for Lorist, driven solely by his instinct to protect his master.
The third to reach the platform was Limade, the Great Swordmaster in the service of Grand Duke Forlundo. He was a Viscount by honorary title from the former Forlundo Duchy, and as Grand Duke Forlundo's personal bodyguard and a member of the kingdom's nobility, he had participated in this welcome banquet for the envoys. Now, seeing the Storm Sword Saint gravely wounded by Lorist, he could no longer restrain his ambition to make a name for himself. He believed that slaying the Storm Sword Saint would not only bring him fame across the land, but that the Second Prince might be pleased enough to grant him a noble estate.
Arriving on the platform right behind Reidi, Limade was already regretting his slow start, fearing that the credit for killing the Storm Sword Saint would be snatched away. When he saw Reidi rush past the platform toward Lorist instead, Limade was elated. He darted up to Manster and slashed at the Storm Sword Saint's neck, eager to claim the kill in a single strike.
Manster was alarmed and shouted, "Be careful!"
But Limade had blocked his path, and Manster was forced to shift sideways to find an opening. Limade heard Manster's warning but paid it no mind — he had deliberately positioned himself in front of Manster to prevent him from stealing the credit. Careful? Careful of what? The Storm Sword Saint was unarmed, his breastbone clearly shattered by Lorist's strike — what was there to be careful about with livestock waiting for the slaughter? He was just jealous that I beat him to it, wasn't he? Haha — you should have just gone for the beheading instead of being so cautious!
Limade's sword was inches from the Storm Sword Saint's neck, a single thrust away from glory, when the world before him suddenly darkened. A savage gale erupted, and the sensation of sand and stone hurtling toward him was overwhelming. Limade's face went white with terror. "Domain!"
The Storm Sword Saint had vanished from sight. Then pain exploded in Limade's arm, and his sword was gone. Limade wanted desperately to beg for mercy, but at that moment he couldn't speak. The Storm Sword Saint had already reversed his grip and driven the seized blade into the back of Limade's neck, plunging it straight down along his spine. Limade convulsed as if struck by lightning, struggled once, then went limp on the platform — dead.
Manster stumbled backward, clutching his right wrist. In the instant the Storm Sword Saint had activated his Domain and seized the sword to kill, he had also sliced off Manster's right hand with a single stroke. Had Manster not always maintained his habitual caution, he might well be dead as well. All the kingdom nobles who hadn't yet reached the platform turned ashen-faced, as if they had seen a ghost, spinning around and fleeing back in retreat…
Two shadows flickered on the platform, and the Storm Domain shattered and faded once more, revealing the Storm Sword Saint standing with his sword planted in the ground. Limade's corpse lay at his feet. Though the Storm Sword Saint was still coughing up blood from time to time and the wound in his left side continued to bleed, the kingdom nobles were now like birds startled by the bow — no one dared approach again…
"Use longbowmen against him!" Grand Duke Fisablen shouted from a safe distance, confident that the Storm Sword Saint could not reach him from where he stood.
"Hmph!" The Storm Sword Saint snorted furiously. Grand Duke Fisablen's suggestion had clearly struck at his weak point — he was already gravely injured and barely holding on. If the kingdom's nobles swarmed him all at once, he could kill at most three or four more before being hacked apart by a storm of blades. He turned to glare at Lorist, who stood silently with a sword still embedded in his chest, then tapped his blade against the ground and launched himself skyward like a wild goose. He landed outside the tent, spat out a mouthful of blood, tapped his sword against the ground again, and leaped into the air once more, vanishing into the distance in the blink of an eye…
"Pfft…" A mouthful of blood he had been holding back erupted from Lorist's lips, and he collapsed like a limp noodle. In the midst of Reidi's panicked calls, Lorist's vision went dark. Just before consciousness faded, he heard only the Second Prince's furious roar: "After him! You must catch up and kill that Sword Saint!"
…