With no alternative, the eight swordsmen scrambled to retreat, raising their swords in unison. Brilliant sword light flared as they desperately tried to counter the incoming blow.
Boom!
But their efforts were in vain. The sword light shattered in an instant. Kishor’s fist slammed into the ground with earth-shattering force, creating a massive hundred-meter crater.
The eight swordsmen were sent hurtling through the air, crashing to the ground in disarray, their bodies battered and broken.
Stefan’s brows furrowed slightly, his expression darkening with seriousness.
Rostam, still reeling from disbelief, wiped the blood from his lips. He had never expected that both Ararat and Kishor were celestial realm cultivators. Even with their powers suppressed, their combat experience and sheer dominance placed them in an entirely different league.
As the guardians of the Celestial Stairway, Kishor and Ararat had battled countless foes. Their vast experience left them unfazed by any opponent, making them nearly unstoppable despite their limitations.
Ararat cast a cold, mocking glance at the Eight Swordsmen of Demonia Mountain.
“You call yourselves swordsmen? Don’t disgrace the name,” sneered.
With that, swung his longsword. A surge of sword energy erupted, splitting the void itself.
“Block it!” Rostam shouted, his voice tinged with urgency.
The Eight Swordsmen reacted instantly, drawing another longsword from their waists and launching a simultaneous counterattack toward Ararat.
The moment their swords clashed, the energy unleashed by the Eight Swordsmen shattered like fragile glass against Ararat’s overwhelming sword force.
In an instant, deep, bloody gashes marred the chests of Rostam and his companions. The once-formidable swordsmen, now battered and bleeding, were no longer a match for Ararat and Kishor.
Colby and Toben watched in stunned silence, their expressions betraying sheer disbelief.
The Eight Swordsmen of Demonia Mountain were renowned Immortal Realm experts, their strength and reputation well-established. Yet, they had been utterly crushed, completely overpowered by the two mysterious figures at Jared’s side.
At that moment, the will to fight drained from Rostam and his men.
Fear flickered in their eyes, yet none dared to flee without Stefan’s command.
Ararat and Kishor, however, had already dismissed them. Their gazes had shifted toward Stefan, who was watching from a distance.
“That brat is cocky. Should we teach a lesson?” Kishor remarked with a smirk.
“Why not?” Ararat nodded in agreement.
Without hesitation, Ararat swung his sword, unleashing a brilliant arc of sword light toward Stefan, while Kishor’s fist struck downward, its force manifesting as a spectral beast that roared through the air, charging at him.
Stefan, however, merely scoffed. “You think you can kill me so easily?”
As his expression twisted, his face seemed to ripple, as if countless beings lurked beneath his skin. Then, from within his body, a withered, skeletal hand slowly emerged.
With a mere flick, it obliterated both Ararat’s sword energy and Kishor’s devastating punch as though they were nothing more than dust in the wind.
Ararat and Kishor froze, their eyes widening in shock. The strength Stefan had just displayed defied all reason. They couldn’t fathom how this seemingly young cultivator wielded such unfathomable power.
Stefan’s expression twisted into something menacing as tendrils of dark aura slithered around like living shadows. Those were marked auras, and within the swirling darkness, countless tormented souls walled in agony.
A hunched elder, clad in a tattered blood-red robe, slowly emerged from the swirling darkness, his disheveled hair hanging in wild tangles.
A sinister aura clung to him, thick and oppressive, exuding an unmistakable malice.
“Crimson Ghost, can you take care of those two?” Stefan asked, his tone casual yet commanding.
Crimson Ghost’s hollow eyes flicked toward Ararat and Kishor.
“I can handle one of them,” rasped.
Stefan scoffed. “Pathetic… Just go!”
With a flick of his wrist, sent Crimson Ghost hurtling straight toward Ararat.
Without hesitation, Ararat swung his sword, meeting the attack head-on.
The moment their forces collided, a deafening explosion of energy rippled outward, shaking the very air around them.
In an instant, the entire Land of Finale was swallowed by an impenetrable black fog, plunging everything into an eerie abyss of darkness.
“What a powerful marked aura… It seems Mr. Montes has ties to demons,” Jared muttered, his brows knitting together as the oppressive, sinister energy thickened around him.
He knew had to recover his strength, fast. There was no telling how many more formidable figures lurked in Stefan’s shadow, waiting for the right moment to strike.
