The Grand Lord stroked his long beard as he stepped forward. A gentle breeze swept past, lifting his flowing hair and beard into the air. With a calm gesture, he adjusted his white beard and laughed heartily.
“Little one,” he said, his voice dripping with authority. “You are not qualified to negotiate with us! Since you’ve come here and declared your intent to destroy The Nightshade, I’d like to see if you truly have that capability!”
The intent behind his words was clear-there was no way to avoid a fight.
Kayden, unbothered by the theatrics, responded with an air of ease, his tone light yet commanding: “Very well. The slaughter begins now.”
In that moment, he exuded a presence that was not of a lone warrior facing an army but of a commander leading legions into battle. His calm and imposing demeanor inspired both awe and fear.
But questions began to arise. Could one man truly take on thousands of opponents?
Lucy stood to the side, her heart tense and her face pale with worry. Yet she wasn’t afraid for Kayden’s safety. She knew his abilities well-he was at the Master level, more than enough to handle ordinary fighters. Her concern was directed at the Grand Lords watching from the platform.
If those Grand Lords joined the fray, their combined formation would be impenetrable for even a Master-level fighter. Kayden might be able to eliminate the lower-ranked disciples, but could he endure the relentless assault of the Grand Lords afterward?
Lucy’s gaze shifted between the calm Kayden and the silent but menacing Grand Lords, her worry growing with each passing moment. Suddenly, a gust of wind snapped her out of her thoughts.
Kayden moved.
He stomped his foot on the ground, causing it to tremble violently as if an earthquake had struck. Then, with a leap, he rose into the air, his battered blade held high.
The blade, which had once been dull and rusted, now gleamed as though it were absorbing the very essence of the sunlight and moonlight. No-this wasn’t the work of celestial energy. Instead, arcs of lightning began to crackle and dance along Kayden’s body, illuminating him in a dazzling white glow.
He stood suspended in the air, lightning cascading over him like a god of war. The blade in his hand pulsed with power, its former rusted appearance replaced by a brilliance that could pierce the heavens.
It was no longer a broken blade. It had transformed into a weapon of unparalleled power.
As Kayden descended gracefully back to the ground, his aura was unshaken by the simplicity of his clothing. The sight caused the Grand Lords to stir slightly.
One of the elder Grand Lords furrowed his brow and murmured, “Could he be… Grand level?”
“Of course, he’s Grand level!” another elder replied. “Do you think he’d dare provoke The Nightshade otherwise?”
“Ah, that explains his arrogance,” the first elder remarked. “To reach Grand level at such a young age… If he were to train diligently and humble himself, he might even achieve Master level in time.”
The elder laughed coldly, his tone shifting. “But what a shame. Such talent will be wasted. Today, he dies at our hands.”
Hearing the confidence in the Grand Lords’ voices, Firestone, one of their key disciples, felt emboldened. With a sharp command, he shouted to the gathered disciples: “Attack! Kill him!”
On their home turf, there was no room for Kayden’s audacity.
With the order given, thousands of disciples charged forward like a tidal wave, their eyes burning with adrenaline and rage.
Kayden remained calm, the broken blade steady in his hand. As the crowd neared, closing the gap to just five meters, he suddenly hurled the blade with astonishing force.
The blade became a flash of light, slicing through the air and striking the front line of attackers. Screams erupted as those hit were sent flying backward, their bodies crumpling like ragdolls. The blade tore through the crowd with devastating power, leaving destruction in its wake.
After completing its deadly arc, the blade returned to Kayden’s hand. Without hesitation, he dashed into the fray, moving with the speed and grace of a swallow in flight.
“Shhhk! Shhhk! Shhhk!”
The sound of the blade cutting through flesh echoed relentlessly. Wherever the blade struck, blood spilled, and bodies fell, lifeless and unmoving. This time, Kayden wasn’t holding back. He wasn’t merely incapacitating his enemies-he was killing them outright.
The disciples of The Nightshade screamed in pain and terror under his merciless assault. The air, once serene and steeped in ancient tranquility, was now filled with the sounds of agony and despair.
At the foot of the mountain, Lacey and her companions froze in their tracks as the distant sounds of screams reached their ears.
“Do you hear that?” Diana asked, her face pale with fear.
Lacey nodded grimly. “Yes… crying, shouting, screams of pain.”
“That kind of sound,” Diana continued, her voice trembling, “isn’t it the kind they always say you hear in hell? Could it be… we’re heading straight into hell?”
Her words sent a chill through the group. They exchanged uneasy glances, dread sinking into their hearts.
If this was hell, did it mean they were already dead?
But Lacey, the de facto leader, steadied herself. Swallowing hard, she said, “Let’s keep going. If this really is hell, then we’ll accept our fate. We can’t turn back now. If we do, we’ll only lose ourselves in this endless mountain. At least here, we have a sliver of hope.”
The others nodded, clenching their fists as they pressed forward, determined to face whatever awaited them.
Back at the battlefield, Kayden continued his rampage. Waves of disciples fell before him, their attacks futile. Even when they got close enough to strike, he seemed to anticipate their every move, dispatching them with ease.
It wasn’t that he was too fast-his movements were deliberate, almost slow. But no one could stop him.
To Kayden, killing was as natural as breathing, as effortless as eating a meal.
In his eyes, strong or weak, his enemies were all the same. Like an elephant trampling ants, there was no distinction between seasoned warriors and ordinary men.
As his blade cut through the crowd, the ground was soon littered with bodies. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the earth red. Over a thousand disciples had already fallen, their lifeless forms a testament to his overwhelming power.