“Impossible! How can your spiritual power be this strong?” The black-robed man’s voice tore through the smoke, raw disbelief sharpening every syllable.
“Because you are too weak.” After landing, Leonel launched another attack. The Blaze Sword swung faster and faster, leaving behind layers of sword shadows.
Each strike carried the scorching power of the Heaven Blazing Flame, forcing the black-robed man to retreat repeatedly.
“Blaze Sword Technique, second form! Heaven Blazing Slash!”
With a furious roar, Leonel’s blade suddenly expanded to several meters in length, slashing toward the black-robed man with a destructive momentum.
The black-roped man was stunned. He knew could not withstand the attack but still held the scimitar to guard himself.
Crack!
The scimitar was slashed in half. The flame engulfed the black-robed man’s body. He roared in pain, while his body struggled in the fire. Soon, was burned to ashes.
“Bravo!” An avalanche of cheers rolled down the mountainside. Cultivators raised spears, swords, and staves, their faces lit with wild, unrestrained joy.
“Leonel is incredible! One stroke and that Demonic Cultivator turned to dust!”
“Told you the Martial Rankings’ top three don’t earn their titles for show. These fiends never stood a chance!”
“Keep pushing! Wipe the rest of the Demonic Cultivators off this ridge!”
Aurelius clapped until his palms stung, laughter spilling from his chest. “Well done, Leonel! That’s the skill worthy of third place on the Martial Rankings!”
Yuliana, staring at Leonel in the fringe of the battlefield, allowed a rare glimmer of admiration to soften eyes. She had traded more than a hundred blows with Atorn earlier before narrowly earning victory. Yet, Leonel had reduced a stronger foe to ash with ease.
The jubilation fractured as a low, glacial chuckle drifted from the Demonic Cultivators, chilling the very wind.
Perched atop a lion, the Soul Devourer swept his hollow gaze across the charred ground to Leonel.
“Amusing,” rasped, the word soaked in contempt. “But such trifles hardly impress me…”
He turned, voice dropping to a bored murmur. “Your turn!”
From the massed phalanx of the Demonic Soul Army, a single figure glided forward.
The figure wore flowing robes. His handsome face was pale, and soul mist surrounded him. The man was a soul.
He slowly approached the battlefield. His pace did not leave footprints on the ground. He must be an expert among a hundred thousand demonic souls.
“A soul?” Leonel’s brows tightened, a faint crease of unease settling between his eyes.
Souls did not have physical bodies. Regular attacks would not hurt them. The man’s clear soul hinted at his strong prowess.
Halfway up the slope, cultivators who had been cheering seconds before fell silent. Their grins faded.
“It’s a soul Demonic Cultivator. This is trouble! Souls are the hardest to kill!”
“Leonel’s Blaze Sword burns through anything solid, but it might do nothing to souls.”
“What now? Are we about to watch lose?”
The man in soul form stepped into the cleared arena and offered Leonel a polite nod, his tone calm and oddly courteous. “I am Melvin Zaborski, one of the Hundred Thousand demonic souls. Your sword technique is exquisite. I salute you…”
His voice rang clear, unlike the rasping growl common to other Demonic Cultivators.
“I’m Leonel Hackett. Enough nonsense! Fight!”
Leonel knew a demonic soul was a formidable opponent.
Power churned through Leonel’s meridians until his skin glowed faintly red. The Blaze Sword in his hands roared to life, tongues offire licking along the blade in hungry waves.
Melvin merely nodded his head. In the next breath, blurred, leaving a single after-image that melted away as reappeared behind Leonel.
Leonel spun, blade howling. yet cut nothing but empty air. Melvin had vanished again.
He’s too fast!
Leonel swept his gaze across the clearing, pulse thundering. A normal soul moved quicker than any mortal body. Yet, Melvin was faster, which was similar to teleportation.
