Beneath Jade Dragon Mountain, the Greater Sovereign piloted his helicopter through the grim, overcast sky, heading directly up the mountain.
On his shoulder, he carried a massive water-filled vat, while in his hands, he held a sword mold and a bag of iron-smelting tools.
“Mr. Clark, I’ve brought the sword mold you requested,” the Greater Sovereign said as he carefully set down the water vat and handed the sword mold to Flynn.
Flynn placed the mold on a flat stone slab, then used tongs to lift the Dragonsfire Cauldron. With precision, he poured molten iron into the mold. Half an hour later, Flynn shattered the mold, revealing a rough, three-foot-long sword.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Flynn, like an unfeeling deity, raised a massive iron hammer and struck the blade. Each blow unleashed an immense energy wave, rippling outward in concentric circles. The earth-shaking sound of impact traveled for miles, reverberating through the brooding sky and sending shivers through the souls of all who heard it.
Even in the city, the relentless hammering from the mountain’s peak could be heard, chilling everyone to the bone.
At the base of the mountain, Orion Kennedy, Edwin Gallagher, Brandon, and others stood in awe, stunned by the scene before them.
Even the recently arrived Greater Sovereign wore an expression of utter shock. All eyes were fixed on the mountaintop, their faces etched with a mix of reverence and dread.
Flynn hammered relentlessly, tempering the blade over and over.
“Ssssss-”
The muscles on his back bulged, their contours barely visible amidst the white steam rising from the water vat as he quenched the blade. For over two hours, Flynn repeated the cycle of hammering, quenching, and infusing the blade with spiritual energy. Finally, a three-foot-long sword radiating a cold, sharp gleam emerged.
The blade was slender, three feet in length and two inches in width. One side bore the intricate carving of seven stars over an endless sea, while the other depicted mountains and forests. The dragon-shaped hilt, five inches long, was adorned with a coiled golden dragon on one side and nine-headed phoenixes on the other.
Flynn raised the sword toward the sky, drawing upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. In an instant, dark clouds gathered, fierce winds howled, and lightning and thunder converged over Jade Dragon Mountain. For miles around, the skies darkened as sand and debris swirled in the chaos.
“CRACK! BOOM!”
Dozens of lightning bolts rained down, all converging on the Sky Ripper blade. The energy of the heavens condensed into the sword, the strikes continuing for over ten minutes as deafening thunder rumbled.
The blade, now enveloped in layers of spiritual energy, emitted an incandescent light so brilliant it rivaled the sun. The dazzling sword aura and flashes of lightning illuminated the entire region, forcing onlookers to shield their eyes from the piercing brightness.
At last, Flynn’s figure moved like lightning itself. In the blink of an eye, he vanished from the mountaintop and appeared before the crowd below. In his hand, the three-foot-long Sky Ripper hummed with a dragon’s song, its spiritual energy coiling serpent-like around the blade.
The crowd, dumbfounded by the series of miraculous events, stood with mouths agape, speechless.
“Mr. Clark, I’ve also brought the white robe you requested,” the Greater Sovereign said, presenting a neatly folded robe.
“I’ll help Mr. Clark,” Callie offered, stepping forward to assist. She took the robe and helped Flynn don it.
Flynn remained silent, spreading his arms as Callie carefully dressed him. His deep, cold eyes exuded a chilling aura of lethality.
The white robe unfolded around Flynn like a pair of ethereal wings, light and soft. Callie tied the belt and smoothed the hem with deliberate care. The robe, pure as snow, exuded a faint fragrance, identical to Harriet’s scent-a scent that made it feel as though she had never left his side.
The white robe seemed to merge with Flynn’s sword aura, amplifying his already imposing figure. Draped in its radiant light, Flynn stood tall and majestic-a vision of celestial grace unmatched. Yet, beneath that elegance lay a suffocating killing intent, as though he were a demon lord descending upon the mortal realm.
“Harriet, don’t you wish to see me, clad in this robe, vanquish my enemies?” Flynn murmured softly, his voice tender. “Today, we’ll go to Redcloud Island-together.”
With that, he ascended the helicopter. The massive rotors spun, whipping the wind into a frenzy as the aircraft roared eastward, leaving the crowd below staring after it in stunned silence.
“Dad, do you think Mr. Clark will win?” Callie asked, her eyes betraying a flicker of worry.
She knew this battle was one of vengeance, and Flynn would not back down. Yet, despite his countless miracles, she couldn’t help but feel anxious. Master Phoenix was far too powerful.
Before Brandon could respond, Orion Kennedy narrowed his eyes and answered, “Miss Pearce, your worries are unnecessary. To the boss, Petrin Wilder is no different from the rest of us.”
“This battle will end however he wishes-whether with a single strike or by slowly carving Petrin Wilder apart.”
—
Meanwhile, on Redcloud Island.
This island rose out of the open sea, five hundred miles from the East Sea. At fifty kilometers wide and one hundred kilometers long, its five thousand square kilometers made it a medium-sized island. Two towering peaks, separated by three kilometers, dominated the landscape, their coral rock formations as hard as iron.
By 2:00 PM, the waters surrounding Redcloud Island were packed with yachts and massive ships anchored within a ten-mile radius. On their decks, spectators from across the globe gathered. Among them were dignitaries of immense power and influence.
This event rivaled-and even surpassed-the legendary duel between Lord Valerian Nox and Dario Bragg. Three of the top ten noble houses from Eahta had sent representatives: Curtis Carrow, head of the Carrow family, accompanied by eight Archons; Dylan Cashman of Chillridge, along with his grandson; and Garrick Duffy of Haralu, joined by Lila and seven family members.
Even young elites like Cora Caldwell, Layla, and Vicente Clark from Slatin families were present, following their patriarchs. Wayne, Madeline, and the wealthiest individuals from Ostrad’s nineteen provinces had also arrived, bringing their families.
Sleeve had dispatched a representative as well-not Milton Gray or Arthur Everett this time, but an Adept Earthly Sovereign tasked with observing Petrin Wilder’s strength. Their purpose was clear: to assess Master Phoenix’s power and develop contingencies should he pose a threat to Ostrad.
The world’s elite had gathered, drawn by Zion Watson’s relentless promotion of the duel. News of the event had spread rapidly, captivating everyone. By now, over 50, 000 spectators had arrived, occupying 8, 000 luxury yachts and 17 massive ships. Every yacht from Ostrad’s harbors had been rented out.
This battle’s influence eclipsed the Swordgate Peak duel by magnitudes, attracting over a thousand Blademasters. Petrin Wilder, a pinnacle of swordsmanship, was a figure none could resist witnessing firsthand.
—
“Whup-whup-whup-”
A formation of helicopters appeared on the horizon, flying toward Redcloud Island. Moments later, they landed on Northview Peak.
From one helicopter, over a hundred captives were unloaded, bound together by a massive chain and forced to kneel in a row. Observers fifteen miles away picked up binoculars, watching in confusion as these prisoners were paraded out.
The captives wore the signature green uniforms of Nature’s Path Remedies. Yesterday, Scott Chilton had wiped out the organization’s eleven strongholds, capturing 120 of Greengate’s men. These individuals had once hunted Adrianna and her son, and now Scott brought them to Flynn for justice.
While the destruction of Nature’s Path Remedies had caused a stir in Slatin, it paled in comparison to the upcoming duel. Few paid it much attention-until now. Seeing these captives, the gathered audience quickly connected the dots.
Nature’s Path Remedies had been aligned with Petrin Wilder. And now, Flynn Clark intended to make a statement: he would exact revenge upon Petrin Wilder’s men, right before his rival’s eyes.