Chapter 1455 - 937: Trial of Steel_3

Chapter 1455: Chapter 937: Trial of Steel_3

Finally, the Night Watcher Warrior’s powerful downward slash missed again, and the sword edge embedded deeply into a charred remnant of a Shield.

There was a fleeting yet inevitable moment of stiffness in the movement—

Vane moved.

He no longer retreated.

He was like a long-suppressed volcano finally finding an outlet, the accumulated Power exploded forcefully.

He took a big step forward, his bare foot heavily stamped onto the scorched earth as if rooting there, the full strength of his body transmitted instantly from the soles to his waist, then surgingly concentrated in his arm.

The Longsword in his hand was no longer merely a Shield of Defense but transformed into a thunderbolt of vengeance ripping through the darkness.

No complicated moves, just the most direct, rapid, and all-encompassing will and strength—A piercing fatal strike!

The sword tip, like a deadly Arrow from a bowstring, with a shrill sound tearing through the air, aimed precisely at the weakest and now visibly damaged seam on the light armor of the Night Watcher Warrior.

This stab, fast! Accurate! Ruthless!

It contained Vane’s destructive force understood within the lava, the rock-like tenacity drawn from minerals, and the indomitable sharp edge forged under countless hammers.

The Night Watcher Warrior’s reactions were indeed quick; instinctively, he tried to withdraw the sword for defense, hurriedly attempting to sidestep.

But Vane timed this strike too perfectly, its speed suddenly increased beyond his previous expectations.

That sword carried all of Vane’s experiences and determination, seemingly momentarily ignoring the distance of space.

"Puh!"

A muffled, heart-stopping fatal sound.

The sharp sword tip, like a hot knife through butter, pierced accurately through the frayed seam of the armor plate, deeply embedding into the Night Watcher Warrior’s robust heart.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

The charging stance of the Night Watcher Warrior suddenly stiffened and froze. The icy flame in his eyes fiercely flickered with unwillingness, then swiftly dimmed as if extinguished.

He sluggishly and stiffly lowered his head, incredulously gazing at the Longsword piercing through his chest, then slowly raised his head, the blurred face under the helmet seemed to reveal an indescribable sense of relief...or liberation?

He didn’t utter a sound, his body amidst losing all support, fell silently backward, heavily hitting the scorched ground, raising a cloud of choking dust.

Vane maintained the piercing posture, his chest heaving slightly, panting.

Scorching blood with a strong iron rust scent trickled along the sword blade, dripping onto the parched scorched soil, emitting a faint hissing sound, rapidly absorbed greedily.

His arm muscles tensed, slowly withdrawing the Longsword.

As the sword left the body, the Night Watcher Warrior’s corpse and his ruined Armor and Weapons quickly disintegrated like a weathered sand sculpture, dispersing into countless faint light dots, merging into this desolate battlefield, as if never existed.

Only Vane’s hand with the still warm and sticky blood-stained Longsword and the heavily indented scorched earth beneath his feet silently testified that this brief yet lethal battle truly occurred.

Silence once again enveloped the battlefield, only that unyielding torn Night Watcher flag flapped in the whimpering silent wind.

Vane stood in place, looking down at the sword in his hand, then raising his eyes ambiguously towards the endless land of death.

The hazy fog had not dissipated, but something deeper and more condensed, like cooling forged steel, was slowly settling and forming within his empty chest.

He still knew nothing about himself, why he was here, but the sword, dug out with his own hands from minerals, refined in the furnace, and forged with countless strikes on the Anvil, had become his only graspable "anchor-like reality" at this moment.

He gripped the sword hilt tighter, his knuckles turning white from tension.

The bloodstains on the sword blade had not dried in the leaden daylight, shimmering with a dark red luster.

He raised his head, his gaze penetrating through the lingering thick smoke, looking deep into the battlefield.

There, seemingly, more silhouettes cast the same icy killing intent silently standing, silently waiting...

The battle wasn’t over, or rather, his true trial of "Solid" path had just begun.