Dragon Heart. Land Of Magic. Litrpg Wuxia Saga. Book 6 - Volume 1 Chapter 16 437
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- Dragon Heart. Land Of Magic. Litrpg Wuxia Saga. Book 6
- Volume 1 Chapter 16 437
“I’ve been waiting for this!” Hadjar shouted.
Freeing his left foot from the stirrup, he pushed off the saddle with his right knee. Hovering above the ground, he struck four arrows with two elusive swings of his sword. Each of the arrows looked like a Phoenix’s feather. Wrapped in flames, they blazed through the air, leaving a trail of gray smoke behind. Hadjar didn’t recognize this Technique, but the fact that it was being used simultaneously by four different cultivators following the Arrow Path suggested that it was very common in the Empire.
Einen, in turn, immediately dove into the shadows and jumped out of them in the center of the ravine, twirling his staff around him. Forming a kind of circular barrier, he deflected one arrow after another. For him, it was as easy as swatting mosquitos. The islander’s defensive Techniques had reached a point where Hadjar could honestly say that he wasn’t capable of the same feats. Just like how Einen wasn’t capable of attacking as well as his ‘barbarian friend’.
“Melee!” Araz commanded.
The giant himself was in no hurry to fight. The more ‘comrades’ died in this battle, the more Glory points he would get. Both from the newbies and from his dead ‘friends’.
As soon as Einen and Hadjar got off their Three-horned deer, the animals rushed into the thicket. They didn’t escape, they just hid. The trained deer knew exactly what to do…
Landing on the grass, back to back with Einen, Hadjar deflected several more fire feather arrows. The archers weren’t going to stop trying to kill the newcomers.
From the edges of the ravine, using the cover of the Bow Techniques, the melee fighters rushed in to attack. About twenty Heaven Soldiers surrounded Hadjar and Einen, but the duo didn’t look scared.
Fools, Araz thought, they think they’re as strong as fully-fledged disciples.
The giant knew quite well that two fully-fledged disciples, even the weakest among them, could easily defeat a group of even forty ordinary disciples.
“Can you handle them?” Hadjar asked.
Dodging an arrow, he deflected another and sent back a crescent of blue energy that held a sharp silhouette of a sword within. His attack, infused with the will of a Wielder, travelled seventy paces, first encountering the exposed bow, and, after splitting it in half, cut off the head of the cultivator archer who’d been too surprised to react. First blood had been spilled. It made the other attackers hesitate a little. These two unfortunate ‘beasts’ had been trapped and were suddenly revealing just how dangerous their fangs and claws were. They were not to be trifled with.
“Handle twenty warriors?” Einen, continuing to spin his staff, deflecting a hail of fire feathers, arched his right eyebrow. “I can hold them back for thirty seconds. After that, you’ll have to accompany me to my forefathers.”
“Then I’ll have to do it in twenty-five!”
Einen looked at Hadjar. The islander knew they could deal with twenty melee fighters, but those fighters were being supported by archers, so their meeting with their forefathers was only a matter of time.
He’d guessed Hadjar’s plan the moment he’d asked the question. But what did his plan mean? It meant that Einen would have to put his life and his future in someone else’s hands. However, these were his friend’s hands!
“On the count of three!” Einen shouted.
His skin was quickly covered in iridescent scales. The shadow beneath the islander’s feet rose up like a black column, then expanded to form an ape torso. It bared its fangs and beat its powerful, ghostly, rainbow-armored chest.
A fighter who still didn’t understand what they were dealing with decided to attack them head-on. He raised a hammer over his head and, leaping forward, brought it down in a crushing blow. The energy surrounding it took the form of the cultivator’s weapon, only made of ice and topped with a five-foot-long spike.
“Sixth stance: Wind!” Hadjar roared.
The black cloak materialized across his shoulders, and the simple artifact in his hands turned into the blade of black fog. Leaving behind a ghostly haze and illusory silhouettes, he moved to the edge of the ravine in just a split second.
At that moment, Einen lunged forward with his staff. In response, the armored ape clenched its fist and struck the ice hammer. The foes smiled. Their comrade’s Technique was known to many of the ordinary disciples. It was considered to be an attack that a person could dodge, but couldn’t protect themselves from. Designed to break through protective Techniques, it was the bane of cultivators like Einen.
This can’t be! The thought flashed through the dying man’s mind.
The armored ape’s fist contained not just the crushing power of an energy that was superior to that of a Heaven Soldier’s at the initial stage, but also the mysteries of the Spear Spirit. The fist had the speed and penetrating power of a spear!
“He’s a Wiel-” The cultivator had no time to warn his comrades. The ape’s fist easily broke through the ice hammer and, continuing forward, punched through the warrior’s body. The hammer fell to the ground. Blood spurted from the dead man’s mouth. His body twitched a couple of times in agony and went still. Einen, through a slight effort of will, collected all the Glory points from the enemy’s token. Since he’d already paid for training, there wasn’t much left. Only twenty-four. However, compared to what he’d earn collecting the leaves of the Night Shrub, it was a huge amount when you factored in how quickly he’d earned them.
“Legon!” Several of their attackers shouted.
The deceased had been someone’s friend, son, brother, maybe even a lover. However, that didn’t really bother Einen or Hadjar. Everyone who came for their lives had to be ready to give up their own. They had no mercy for their enemies, and they didn’t spare their lives! This was the credo of real warriors!
Out of the corner of his eye, Hadjar saw Einen send the enemy cultivator to his forefathers with a single blow.
“One-one,” he hissed.
Blurring into a black fog and leaving behind afterimages, he moved closer to one of the archers. His sword, shrouded not only in the mysterious black fog, but also in the blue-black energy, moved with the smoothness of a breeze and the speed of lightning descending from the sky. Leaving a misty trail in its wake, the black blade easily overcame the archer’s defensive Technique and sliced through his artifact armor. A fountain of blood gushed out, and the cultivator’s severed torso slowly slid to the ground. The man hadn’t even understood what was happening. Hadjar didn’t even look at his body.
“Wind!” He shouted again.
His energy was melting away, but if he didn’t deal with the archers, the battle would be lost. He didn’t have time to admire his ‘victories’. Fortunately, he managed to grab the Glory points from the enemy’s token in passing. Only sixteen of them, but still.
As this was happening, Einen, who’d been holding his staff behind his back, suddenly brought it forward as he lunged.
“Boulder Storm!” The islander shouted.
His staff blurred into a series of high-speed attacks, and the ape’s paws disappeared. A hail of blows coming from various angles rained down on the attackers, blocking them from advancing. The two fists were striking so quickly that the Heaven Soldiers’ eyes almost couldn’t discern them. Each strike contained the mysteries of the Spear Spirit. The cultivators froze. They didn’t even have time to use their Techniques as they had to dodge and escape from the ferocious attacks.
Three of them, however, risked trying to use their Offensive Techniques. Two cultivators immediately fell backward, apparently accomplishing nothing. Their chests had gaping holes in them. Their eyes glossed over.
The third flew several feet away and crashed into the slope of the ravine. His artifact armor saved him. Split open down the middle, it had dug its edges into the cultivator’s chest. He wouldn’t be able to fight again anytime soon, but he was still breathing.
“Three-two,” Einen said, panting.
Now everything depended on whether Hadjar could deal with the archers before the islander could no longer maintain his Call. They were once again playing tag with death and, by the High Heavens, it was the two friends’ favorite game!