Chaos Heir

Chapter 1395: Sword Saint

The battle came to a halt, or at least it seemed it did for the two warriors. Time slowed down as three of the black alien’s severed fingers detached themselves from his hand, falling toward the street and exposing most of the sword’s handle.

Of course, the laws of physics didn’t change. George didn’t stop, either. His descending slash had created a critical opportunity he didn’t hesitate to exploit by half-stepping forward to lunge his silver sword past the alien’s arm.

The attack was seamless, immediate, and overall perfect. George had lunged forward as if knowing that the opportunity would arrive. The sharp, silver tip enveloped by a similar aura pierced the alien’s black robe and chest, but mere drops of dark blood soon replaced him.

For the first time since the beginning of the battle, the alien evolved warrior retreated, summoning his superior speed to put several meters between him and George.

George had perceived that retreat but didn’t accompany it. There would have been no point. The alien was faster than him anyway, so charging at him would have only created opportunities for counterattacks.

However, George didn’t stay still, either. He straightened himself, pointing his sword forward, smirking when his eyes fell on its silver tip. Black drops of blood were flowing over it, showcasing how close George had gotten to piercing the alien’s chest.

Meanwhile, despite not showing that, the alien was utterly confused. His entirely black eyes moved between his mangled right hand and the fingers resting on the metal surface before George’s feet. Somehow, that weaker being had hurt him, and he couldn’t understand how.

The few exchanges had conveyed nothing but superiority on the black alien’s side. The latter surpassed George in everything, be it sheer speed, physical strength, and weapon’s flexibility.

The gap in basic abilities was so vast that George had been forced to defend since the first exchange. The alien’s speed was something George could only subconsciously react to, and the strength behind each slash from the black sword flung him away, forcing him to focus on dispersing that violent momentum.

Theoretically, the alien’s relentless assault should have increased his advantage until it became too much for George to endure. That was the natural progression of a battle between a weak and a strong warrior. The gap in basic skills would have widened until the former suffered a fatal injury.

Nevertheless, nothing similar had happened. The alien’s plan seemed to be on the right course until it wasn’t anymore. To make things worse, the evolved warrior couldn’t even understand where things had gone wrong.

The last block had been the critical point in the exchanges, but that wasn’t something George could have pulled off without the evolved warrior noticing it.

Besides, the evolved warrior knew he wouldn’t have made such stupid mistakes. George had to have led him into a trap, which grew clearer the more the alien reviewed the previous exchanges.

It had been unnoticeable during the battle, but the alien now realized that something had been off ever since the second exchange.

The alien’s first, sudden slash had almost sent George flying, and the second did, too. Except that George had experienced an infinitesimally weaker version of the initial momentum.

That was quite normal. After all, warriors adjusted themselves during a battle, adapting to the incoming attacks’ speed and weight.

Yet, George seemed to have pushed that further. Each exchange had gradually destabilized him less. He retained more control over his body, battle stance, and sword every time the silver and black blades clashed, and that wasn’t only due to getting used to his opponent.

The alien realized he had been at fault there. George wasn’t the one who had grown stronger. His assault had weakened with each following attack without him noticing that, and he could only find a single explanation for that unbelievable event.

Collisions didn’t happen in isolated environments. The forces that generated them had precise directions and strength.

Theoretically, if all the data were known, it would be possible to predict the outcome of each collision, perfectly calculating where the released forces would go and how strong they would be.

Obviously, each variable complicated those calculations. Swords were unique objects with uncommon shapes, and the mystical energy both George and the black alien wielded was an even more unpredictable factor.

Yet, George seemed to have done just that. He had calculated the result of the exchanges to steer the battle in a specific direction. He had altered his guard and the strength behind it to change how the collision with the black blade would go, closing the gap in basic abilities and overcoming it.

If that had been all, the black alien would have still overwhelmed George. However, George had pulled off that complicated and insidious plan without his opponent noticing it.

Words couldn’t describe how outstanding George’s achievement had been. Even mere praises couldn’t encompass that. The black alien simply realized and accepted that George’s technique was sublime.

"Did you get it?" George asked, noticing the faint sense of enlightenment on the alien’s expression. "Not to brag, but I would have been called Sword Saint in ancient times."

Of course, the alien didn’t reply. Still, despite his looks, he didn’t charge at George recklessly. He had the appearance of a brawny brute, but his behavior couldn’t be more different than that.

Nevertheless, George didn’t exactly care for looks and victory. His goal had never been about that.

"I lied," George announced, his right arm snapping upward. "I was bragging."

The black alien instinctively lifted his sword, only to discover that George’s sudden gesture didn’t target him.

George had thrust his sword above his right shoulder, his existence’s sharpness spiking for an instant to release a piercing streak of silver light that flew through the air, rising into the sky to target the still-sitting red-eyed alien.

Yet, the attack never reached its target. The red-eyed alien didn’t look at it, either. Instead, a tide of black smoke collided with the silver slash, absorbing it in its darkness and devouring its energy.

The tide didn’t advance anymore. It churned and expanded before condensing into a smaller trail of smoke that flew toward the figure descending from the sky, coiling itself around the second one-horned alien’s right arm as he descended toward the street.