"How did you get your hands on this technique?" Arthur asked furiously.
Max glanced at him with a smile. "He gave it to me willingly."
"Willingly? Are you kidding me?" Arthur raged. "Why would he give you a technique willingly? This doesn’t make sense at all."
Max shrugged. "I don’t care. You’re here to fight me, so let’s fight."
"Humph, I was taking it easy on you, but I won’t make the same mistake twice." Arthur snorted disdainfully, his aura surging as it reached its peak. Channeling the power of all eight of his avatars, Arthur’s strength truly reached its maximum.
Max frowned slightly, sensing the pressure emanating from Arthur, but what happened next surprised him the most.
He watched, wide-eyed, as three more pairs of mist-condensed hands sprouted from Arthur’s body, bringing the total to eight. Then, a moment later, each of the eight hands formed a mist sword, each gleaming with deadly intent.
"This is my strongest form," Arthur said, his face full of confidence as he glanced at Max. "Now you’ll see what true power is." Raising all eight swords high, he swung them down simultaneously.
Swish!
Eight arcs of sword light shot toward Max, each one stronger than the last.
Max’s eyes sharpened as he focused on the eight arcs of light, using his Three Dimensional Body skill to track their movements closely.
Then he turned his attention to the swords.
The Momentum Sword consisted of three moves. The first was the Fast Momentum Sword, where one had to carry the momentum forward with each strike, making the next attack faster and sharper than the last.
The second move was called the Drag Sword. As the name suggested, the user would drag the momentum of the sword as far as possible and release it all at once in a final, powerful move.
Gripping his sword tightly, Max took a deep breath, channeling 15% of his Fusion State aura into the blade. The sword shimmered with an otherworldly glow, its edge humming with concentrated energy. Slowly, he arched the blade backward at a precise 45-degree angle, his stance steady as though preparing for a decisive strike. Yet, he didn’t move.
Arthur’s eight slashes of light, infused with the power of his eight avatars, tore through the air, heading straight for Max with deadly precision. The guild masters watching the battle from outside the arena held their breath, expecting Max to dodge or counter immediately.
But Max remained motionless, his eyes calm and filled with determination.
It wasn’t until the eight slashes were mere inches from his body that he made his move.
"Drag Sword!" Max’s voice rang out, calm yet resolute, as his sword swung in one smooth, deliberate motion.
Shatter!
The moment his blade connected with the first of Arthur’s slashes, a deafening crack echoed across the arena. Like fragile glass, the slash disintegrated into shimmering fragments of light.
The second slash met the same fate. Then the third.
In one fluid motion, Max’s sword cut through all eight slashes as if they were nothing but illusions, each shattering upon impact. The remnants of Arthur’s once-mighty attack dissipated into the air, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.
Arthur’s eyes widened in disbelief. The power he had poured into those eight slashes, backed by the strength of his avatars, had been completely nullified by a single swing of Max’s sword.
"How did you do it?!" Arthur asked, his disbelief evident. An attack from his strongest form being broken like that did not sit well with him.
Max didn’t respond. His mind was focused on something else. He realized he hadn’t performed the Drag Sword to its Perfection Stage. All three moves of the Momentum Sword needed to be mastered separately at the Perfection stage to unlock their full potential. But after using the Drag Sword just now, Max instinctively felt he hadn’t reached the Perfection stage with it.
’There seems to be something missing,’ Max thought to himself. He had used 15% of his Fusion State aura, but the power behind the Drag Sword didn’t feel right.
"You’re ignoring me?" Arthur laughed, his eyes burning with rage. "Trash from the East is ignoring me?" He shouted, gripping the eight swords tightly in his hands.
Max glanced at him. "You can’t even defeat someone so low in rank, so stop calling others trash when you yourself are the biggest one." He said, his irritation growing from Arthur’s constant mocking.
"Hahahaha, you are trash. There’s no doubt about it," Arthur said, his face contorting with madness as he raised all his swords high. "I will cut you down with my strongest attack." With those words, all eight of his arms began to glow. As the glow intensified, the mist surrounding his arms slowly dissipated, flowing into the eight swords.
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The swords began to glow as the energy within them increased at an alarming rate.
Watching this, Max’s eyes lit up with newfound clarity as a realization dawned on him.
"I see… I’ve been missing a medium for my Drag Sword."
With this epiphany, Max gripped his sword more firmly, raising it high at a precise 45-degree angle. His breathing slowed, becoming deep and rhythmic, as he concentrated.
This time, he didn’t channel all his energy recklessly. Instead, he refined his control, guiding only a small portion of his mana into the blade.
As the mana flowed into his weapon, a strange yet powerful momentum began to build around the sword. It wasn’t the raw, chaotic power of an overwhelming attack; rather, it was a balance of terrifying volatility and unyielding stability. The sword seemed like it could explode at any moment, yet it felt as solid and unshakable as a mountain.
The air around Max vibrated with a low hum as the momentum steadily grew, rippling outward in waves that made the arena tremble. With each passing second, the energy in the sword intensified, and it seemed like a storm was trapped within the steel.
Arthur, standing on the opposite end of the stage, narrowed his eyes as he sensed the growing pressure from Max’s technique. Not one to be outdone, he began powering up his own attack.
The eight weapons floating around him blazed with radiant white light as Mist Essence surged into each one. The weapons, now filled with energy, pulsed with overwhelming power, exuding an aura of devastation. Arthur’s expression darkened with focus, his mind set on overwhelming Max before the Drag Sword could reach its full potential.
Both combatants stood firm, each building their attacks to unimaginable heights.
As Max and Arthur both powered up their moves, the energy radiating from the arena attracted the attention of the other geniuses.
"This aura... It’s that strange aura again, but at its highest point," Crown Prince Aelric said, glancing at Max’s figure as the energy around his blade continued to rise.
"Do you think he can win against Arthur?" Veylin asked curiously, looking at Aelric.
Crown Prince Aelric pondered for a moment, his thoughts distant. "It’s hard to say. While Max is strong and hasn’t shown his true strength, the Mist Breaker class is already famous for its notoriety in the South. Creating false limits and breaking them under certain conditions to gain true power temporarily is magical, but against someone who can defy the odds to fight against higher-ranked geniuses, this ability may face a worthy competitor."
Veylin mused, hearing this, and said thoughtfully, "Mist Breaker is strong, but I wonder what class Max possesses to that allows him to fight a full rank above and defeat the top geniuses of that rank." His eyes gleamed with greed as he thought about Max’s class.
Crown Prince Aelric glanced at Veylin with a slight smile. "Veylin, how many years until your father finally enters Master Rank?" he asked.
Veylin turned his eyes to Aelric, a strange smile appearing on his lips. "Three years at most. When he comes out, destruction will fall upon the Valora Continent."