Green’s brick knocked out the Mind Mage casting [Charm].
Mages often had frail constitutions, and Green’s brick was divinely precise. A single strike could not only knock her out but potentially kill her.
Seeing the woman collapse, Green, Debbie, Reisa, and Winsa breathed a sigh of relief, slumping to the ground, panting.
Little Valkyrie Jiji, sensing the danger had passed, emerged from behind Debbie with a relieved sigh. She trotted to the woman, kicking her with bare feet, shouting “Jiji, jiji” with surprising ferocity, resembling an ordinary little girl. She clearly despised this woman.
Debbie also loathed her. Such shameless combat tactics, and those oversized… assets.
But Jiji’s behaviour puzzled Debbie. Despite her childish nature, Jiji wasn’t timid. She’d fearlessly charged at terrors like the Apostle, yet now she’d fled to Debbie’s side against this mage. Surely the tattooed, scantily clad woman had frightened the little girl.
The Mind Mage’s magic wasn’t particularly potent, but her tattoos amplified its power immensely. Green fell instantly, and even Debbie and Reisa struggled to resist. She was dangerously formidable.
Debbie turned to Green, who’d lost copious nosebleed. She grinned, praising him, “Not bad, resisting her control. Your willpower’s impressive, worthy of someone who’s faced so many adventures with us.”
“Heh…” Green gave a weak smile, feeling dizzy and drained from blood loss.
Just then, little Valkyrie Jiji, still waving her tiny sword beside the Mind Mage, glanced over and met Green’s eyes, smiling sweetly. “Jiji, thank you.”
“No trouble at all. It’s my duty. She was my opponent, so I had to take her down. I…” Green sprang up as if injected with adrenaline, but after a few words, dizziness overwhelmed him, and he collapsed, nearly fainting.
Reisa stood quickly. “You lost so much blood. Don’t move. I’ll help you recover.” Glancing between Green and Jiji, she smirked knowingly.
As Reisa tended to Green, the other battles in Shengguang Forest reached a fever pitch.
Guni, fortified by ample food and now immune to poison, swung her massive stone sword, chasing Black Water Mage Mandel.
Ye Chui, having blown off McKenzie’s arm, held the upper hand, weaving around, bombarding the ice mage with spells. The old mage looked wretched, at his limit, claiming he’d never faced such bizarre spell attacks.
Cass’s battle with the Fourth Prince grew fiercer. For Cass, even against stronger foes, he could exceed his own limits. Three years in Stan Town had dulled his spirit, but now he was again the fearless swordsman who faced desert tornadoes.
A swordsman’s strength wasn’t just in skill but in the resolve to fight to the death. Though the Fourth Prince’s Legacy Magic Book gave him an edge, he was now faltering.
As for Gilga and the Black Sword Guard, their fight was one-sided.
The Black Sword Guard could absorb others’ sword aura for his own use. He’d faced Gilga before, over-absorbing her aura and injuring himself—could a pay-to-win player’s aura be so easily drained? That lesson, or rather his sword’s lesson, stuck.
His cursed black sword had a simple consciousness. Normally, he couldn’t control its will, but like a beast, it wouldn’t reabsorb aura it had been taught to avoid.
This meant the Black Sword Guard was now immune to Gilga’s aura, safe from bursting again.
Even without the cursed sword, he was a formidable advanced swordsman with exquisite techniques. With any sword, he was a master, confident he could defeat Gilga. But this was mere wishful thinking.
Splatter.
Blood sprayed from his chest as he staggered back, gravely wounded by Gilga’s strike.
Pale, he sprang up. “I was still recovering from your last attack…”
“Excuses!”
Gilga, radiant with confidence, pointed her golden sword at him, advancing. “Your swordsmanship is strong, but you rely too much on your black sword. Absorbing others’ aura, you’ve neglected honing your own aura and skills. Your techniques lack full power, and I sense fear in your fighting. Your sword can’t absorb my aura anymore. You thought that’d give you victory, but instead, it’s fear—fear from relying on your sword’s power for so long.”
Standing before him, her sword at his chest, Gilga said, “I’m disappointed. You’re weaker than last time.”
His expression shifted, knowing she was right. Since gaining the cursed sword, he’d grown overly dependent. He vaguely sensed he wasn’t its master; the sword controlled him. Unwilling to admit it, he roared, gripping his sword and slashing at Gilga’s waist.
“Useless!” Gilga shouted, swinging her sword.
Golden Sword Skill: [Golden Slash]
Clang.
The seemingly gentle clash rang crisply.
The black sword snapped, its broken blade falling, embedding in the ground.
“Evil, filthy sword!” Gilga’s face dripped with disdain, her war skirt billowing as she glared at the Black Sword Guard.
“No—” he cried, crouching to clutch the broken sword and its embedded fragment, panic-stricken. He’d long sensed the sword controlled him and considered abandoning it. But seeing it break, he felt visceral fear. Without it, he was no longer mighty. His title as Black Sword Guard stemmed from this blade.
Gilga paused, noticing something.
As he lifted the broken sword, black, vein-like tendrils extended from it, merging into his hands. He gasped, trying to shake it off, but it was too late. His face and body visibly withered—the cursed sword was draining his flesh.
“Hmph, truly an evil thing,” Gilga realized.
The sword chose hosts, absorbing enemies’ aura. When defeated by a stronger foe, it broke, severing ties with its host, sacrificing them to repair itself. Gilga’s strike hadn’t broken it due to sheer force but because it acknowledged her strength—a despicable, evil blade.
In moments, the Black Sword Guard became a shrivelled husk, barely alive.
The sword reformed, trembling, its black surface glinting red, as if drunk. With a buzz, it flew toward Gilga.
“Choosing me as host?” Gilga sneered, her golden sword bursting with light. “You’re unworthy!”
She unleashed [Golden Slash] again. With a clang and a faint, eerie scream, the sword broke once more, its fragments turning to dust with an unwilling wail.
Don’t be fooled by Gilga’s usual docile demeanour around Debbie and Ye Chui. That was only with them. In truth, she was a ruthless swordsman. How could someone who mastered golden sword aura and became a heroic spirit be ordinary?
The Black Sword Guard, withered but not yet dead, reached for the sword’s dust, pitiable. Then he sensed something, looking toward Cass and the Fourth Prince.
Gilga followed his gaze.
So did Ye Chui, Guni, Debbie, Green, Reisa, and Winsa.
The Fourth Prince, battling Cass, pulled a strange pendant from his chest, his face twisted in a cruel smile, gripping it as if to unleash something terrible.
“This is my trump card. You’re all dead!” the dishevelled Fourth Prince rasped, crushing the pendant.
The Black Sword Guard, his loyal guard, knew his trump card best. His ashen eyes gleamed with fanaticism. “His Highness is using his trump card. Everyone here will die, die… He’s summoning the most terrifying berserk spirit: Magic Mountain!”
