Chapter 148: The Youth Who Understands Growth (Part 1)

  It was unknown which elf first noticed the magical effects in the air had disappeared under Cardinal's purification spell and thus shot the arrow in their hand. The arrow immediately flew into a thief's neck from one side, with half the arrowhead protruding from the other. The thief let out a strange wail, clutching his neck with both hands, but the blood spurting from the pierced artery couldn't be contained by his hands. Crimson liquid continuously gushed between his fingers as he slowly collapsed.

  Once someone took the lead, the nearly hundred thieves in the middle instantly became living targets for the surrounding elves. In the blink of an eye, all thieves lay wailing, with only a handful of particularly lucky ones injured but not dead; the rest were killed with a single arrow.

  Axsis, however, was extremely fortunate. The two thieves supporting him were simultaneously pierced through the throat by arrows and fell dead. He also lost his balance and collapsed, thus avoiding being shot in the elves' first volley of arrows. When an elf spotted this escaped fish and was about to finish him with another arrow, Cardinal spoke up: "Please leave the leaders alive. I believe someone must be directing them from behind. We can investigate and interrogate them slowly later."

  In the blink of an eye, only Sylka and Talise remained in the field, locked in a difficult battle.

  Sylka seemed truly insane now, laughing maniacally while swiftly swinging his greatsword. The several-hundred-jin greatsword moved as lightly and swiftly as a dagger, the stirred airflow even felt by the distant elves. Several elves had shot at him, but the arrows, upon entering the gang wind stirred by the greatsword, were instantly blown away like withered grass.

  Sylka's mind held no desire for victory anymore. He knew he couldn't win. Even if he defeated the female knight, there were still ten Templars, a more formidable Temple Knight, Cardinal, and the hundreds or thousands of elves outside—he was like a fierce beast caged. The enemy assigned to him was merely because that enemy wanted to kill him personally.

  All reason was useless, simmered into killing intent and killing aura by despair and anger. His thoughts contained nothing but this frenzied killing intent. He now only wanted to kill, to kill all he could. Kill one if he could, and when he could kill no more, he could even kill himself.

  Losing rational restraint, this man whose humanity had long been twisted into something more bestial unleashed all the violence and madness accumulated deep in his soul over the years. Every movement, every muscle tremor now came directly from that frenzied soul. The excess frenzied killing intent surged within him, finding no outlet even in this frenzied attack—he even bit off his own lower lip in battle, chewing and swallowing it. The violent attack stemmed not just from his limbs, but from the power of his soul.

  Talise's longsword broke in the first clash with Sylka's greatsword. A Templar behind her immediately threw his battle spear to her.

  In the storm of the greatsword, the Temple Knight, empowered by Radiant Battleplate's Divine Aegis of the Heavens, dodged and weaved with all his might. Spear flowers rained down, drilling into the gaps of the greatsword's attacks. Soon, the fine steel battle spear opened three not-so-small holes in Sylka's fortress-like muscles. Talise remained unharmed, but she was already at a disadvantage, dodging precariously. Facing a monster who cared not for injury or even victory, only wanting to strike you with a sword or bite you—this was no longer a battle in the ordinary sense.

  In fact, Sylka now looked barely human. Highly concentrated spirit and frenzied killing aura catalyzed his body and mind to their limits. Swollen muscles and a massive frame were covered in blood, mixed with his red battle aura, indistinguishable. The howling from his throat made the elves show expressions of fear and disgust, as if seeing a legendary hell demon.

  Cardinal Adela's gaze had initially been fixed on the elven maiden in the distance, but gradually shifted to Sylka. His expression grew increasingly interested, as if seeing something very amusing. He turned to the remaining Temple Knight beside him: "Knight Wilskey, this thief leader seems quite formidable, doesn't he?"

  "Were it not for the protection of the sacred Radiant Battleplate, Knight Talise would have long been no match for him." The Temple Knight nodded. He had a face with deep-set features, looking rather thin, and held a massive golden battle bow in his hand. "This man's physique and martial skills are top-tier, but unfortunately, he has fallen into darkness. That red battle aura is the result of too much killing and heavy bloodshed. One who can wield such bloody battle aura is a truly violent brute."

  Cardinal uttered an "oh," frowned in thought, and asked: "Can it be that the renowned Temple Knight of the continent, the pride of Celeste, cannot handle a mere thief leader?"

  "This man knows he is doomed. His will seems completely covered by anger and killing intent, yet his movements aren't frantic. This shows years of combat experience are deeply ingrained in his mind, unshakable. Violence and bloodshed have soaked into this man's soul. Power from the soul—whether righteous or evil—is something no one can ignore." The Temple Knight continued his explanation to Cardinal expressionlessly, seemingly disregarding the feelings of the female knight fighting in the field. "And while Knight Talise's martial skills are undeniable, and she has the protection of the Radiant Battleplate, she lacks experience, lacks the awareness most needed in life-or-death combat, lacks soul—so she is destined to lose."

  In the field, Talise's steps and movements faltered with Wilskey's words. She even glanced back at this colleague, nearly being struck by Sylka.

  The Temple Knight slowly raised his golden bow, reaching behind his back for an arrow. This bow, with even the bowstring overflowing with golden light, stood as tall as a person, appearing somewhat oversized even in the large, strong hands of Knight Wilskey. Wilskey's attire was completely different from the other Temple Knights. His Radiant Battleplate lacked the right chest and right shoulder sections. His exposed right shoulder and arm were large and thick. The muscles on them were as distinct and ferocious as sculpture, even more robust and solid than Sylka's mutated muscles. This huge arm hung down to his knee, completely disproportionate to his owner's body, looking as if it had been severed from a giant and grafted on.

  The nocked arrow was a pure steel giant arrow over a meter long and thumb-thick, with exquisite patterns engraved on it. Though the airflow from Sylka's swinging greatsword prevented the elves' arrows from penetrating, this arrow absolutely could. Earlier, Wilskey had shot such an arrow at a The Withered Wood Warden three to four times larger and sturdier than Sylka. The arrow didn't pierce through like crushing rotten wood but struck the wooden body of the The Withered Wood Warden, shattering it completely.

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  "Wait. Knight Wilskey. There's no need for you to act." Cardinal suddenly raised a hand to stop the Temple Knight. He turned to those behind him and said: "Warrior Javi, you go take him down later." He paused, adding a reminder: "Remember, alive. Try not to cause too much damage to his body."

  The Temple Knight looked slightly surprised but didn't voice a question, silently lowering his bow and putting away the arrow.

  "Yes." The young Templar stepped forward, still wearing that gentle, approachable smile. This man seemed to smile no matter the situation.

  With a dull thud, the ground trembled slightly. Sylka's greatsword struck the ground, creating a large crater. Talise seized the opportunity to thrust her spear into his lower abdomen. The half-foot-long spearhead sank completely into his rock-like muscles. But the thrust went no further; the muscles on both sides bulged, preventing the spear from advancing another inch, and Talise couldn't pull it out either.

  Sylka showed not the slightest hint of pain or surprise. This thrust instead made him more excited and rampant. He raised his greatsword again, hacking down toward Talise's head.

  Talise finally pulled out the battle spear, bringing with it a spray of blood and a piece of intestine. She raised her spear horizontally to block and leaped backward. With a deafening clang, the fine steel spear shaft bent into a large U under the greatsword's chop. The female knight's hands split at the palms, the spear flying from her grasp as she was sent flying by the blow.

  Sylka, mouth agape with half his lower lip bitten off, dragging intestines already spilling outside his body, laughed maniacally as he chased after the female knight. Neither gentle metaphors like "fierce as wolves and tigers" nor plain comparisons like "demon" could suffice to describe his current appearance, presence, and ferocity. Even the surrounding elves let out a collective gasp.

  The flying Talise suddenly felt her body go limp as someone caught her mid-air. She turned, startled and angry, only to see a smile like sunshine and white clouds.

  "Your Excellency Talise, you've worked hard. His Eminence asked me to relieve you." The Templar smiled gently as he set her down, then leaped forward to meet the charging Sylka.

  "Wait, you alone..." Talise reached out to stop him, but her arm wouldn't rise. Though a Templar's combat prowess was first-rate compared to ordinary warriors, it wasn't just a little or two behind a Temple Knight with Radiant Battleplate. Setting aside the astonishing defensive power, just the once-per-day "Divine Aegis of the Heavens" on the armor could create a significant gap in combat power.

  Even an ordinary soldier, blessed with Divine Aegis of the Heavens, could handle ten or so opponents of similar original strength. Though white magic had almost no directly offensive spells, it could still contend with the other elemental magic systems, showing the astonishing nature of these auxiliary effects. But now, though Cardinal had sent the Templar to relieve Talise, he showed no intention of bestowing any magic upon him. And Warrior Javi cast no magic on himself, charging toward his opponent as he was.

  Sylka didn't care who he faced; his only thought now was to kill, to fight. He roared, thrusting his greatsword straight at the approaching Templar.

  This thrust was simple and unadorned, yet absolutely the most direct and effective. It condensed his decades of combat experience. By instinct alone, Sylka had anticipated all possible changes in the Templar's steps and movements. The Templar's speed and footwork, without any magical enhancement, were slightly slower than the female knight's. Unless he retreated, there was no way he could completely dodge.

  But Warrior Javi didn't retreat. Instead, he drew his sword and met the oncoming greatsword tip with a thrust of his own. The sword in his hand was just an ordinary fine steel longsword. Compared to Sylka's greatsword, it was no different from a toothpick. But now he was using this tiny toothpick to meet the colossal object hurtling toward him.

  Talise and all the Templars, including Wilskey, changed expressions at Javi's action. Though they admired this young warrior's talent and skill, this force-against-force, head-on collision was something no talent could alter.

  Only Cardinal remained as calm and composed as ever—whether he couldn't comprehend the nuances of warrior combat or had sufficient confidence in his arrangement was unclear.

  The two swords clashed. The sharp fine steel sword tip met the greatsword's nearly hemispherical tip. An unmistakable cracking sound rang out—the fine steel sword snapped in two.

  Not only did the sword break, but Javi's arm also jolted backward under the tremendous impact. Dull sounds followed almost simultaneously from his wrist, elbow, and shoulder joints.

  In this blink of an eye, Wilskey's lowered Golden Battle Bow was raised again, fully drawn, the massive steel arrow already between his fingers. All movements flowed seamlessly, smoother than flowing clouds and water. In just one-fifth of a blink, an arrow capable of altering any situation could be unleashed.

  But this arrow was never loosed. Because in that one-fifth of a blink, he saw the tide of battle turn.

  Sword broken, wrist, elbow, shoulder dislocated—but the greatsword also veered slightly sideways from the impact. Javi's body continued forward, sidestepped, switched the broken sword to his left hand. The deflected greatsword brushed past his body. Clothes shredded, skin split open. But the Templar's body crossed Sylka's, the broken sword precisely severing both his elbows.

  The greatsword continued thrusting forward, but slipped from Sylka's grasp, flying a considerable distance before falling.

  Sylka froze. His mind, overstimulated by killing intent and frenzy, cleared at this astonishment. He felt no pain, but both hands were completely beyond his control.

  The broken blade hadn't cut too deeply—certainly not into his fortress-like muscles. But no matter how massive the muscles, the tendon connections were just small points. Javi's broken sword had severed the tendons gathered at Sylka's elbows, with just the right depth and precision—more skillful than the most seasoned butcher, drawing almost no blood. So Sylka, already covered in blood and flesh, felt no pain.

  Sylka could feel all sensation in his hands, but no matter how he strained, they wouldn't move. He could only feel the severed tendons contracting into balls under his skin. In that moment of hesitation, the same sensation came to his knee joints. The next moment, his massive frame crashed heavily to the ground, never to rise again.

  No matter how powerful the muscles, how frenzied the battle aura and fighting spirit, severed tendons were severed. Like a roaring fire having its fuel snatched out, instantly extinguished—this monster, just moments ago overflowing with energy, vitality, and violence, like a tireless killing machine, thus fell forever.

  Warrior Javi stood straight, sheathing the broken sword. He reset his dislocated joints with his left hand, casting a healing spell. Dislocating joints was no small matter; cold sweat already beaded on his forehead, but his face still wore that relaxed, easy smile, not a single strand of his short golden hair dirtied or disheveled. Only his gaze toward Sylka on the ground held no smile, carrying a cold, firm satisfaction.

  The Templars and Temple Knights merely showed slight changes in expression, while the surrounding elves erupted in excited cheers. Among them, the female patrolwoman holding the black longbow also breathed a sigh of relief, lowering her bow. She glanced at the Temple Knight also holding a massive golden bow, saw he had already stowed his bow and arrows without ripple, and snorted coldly. She had struck twice today, failing both times and nearly harming allies, leaving her resentful. Seeing this fellow bow-user, she had already begun making comparisons.

  Wilskey seemed to sense the elf's gaze too. He turned to look at her and the black elven bow, his eyes lighting up, then nodded indifferently: "Good bow, but not one you can use."

  Kaelin's face instantly changed, but the Temple Knight paid her no more heed, turning toward the Templar.

  On the ground, Sylka let out hysterical roars, all his muscles twitching in extreme agitation, looking like a huge lump of writhing meat. He himself was very clear about the effect of those few strikes on him. He was nearly truly insane now, his frenzied roars and curses making the surrounding leaves tremble.

  Javi drew the broken sword, walked over, and slashed across Sylka's throat, precisely severing his vocal cords. He then walked before Adela, bowing: "Your Eminence, I have not failed your trust."

  "I knew you could do it." Cardinal smiled and nodded.

  "Why did you use such a method?" Wilskey walked over and asked Javi. Talise also approached, looking at them with a strange expression. There was resentment and unwillingness when she looked at Wilskey, yet she had no retort; when she looked at Javi, it was mixed with admiration and other complex emotions.

  "Such a method? What kind of method?" Javi asked somewhat puzzledly.

  "With magic, with an easier method, you could have won just the same. Why use such a risky, strenuous method?" Talise glanced at the mark left by the greatsword on Javi's body. Had it been a centimeter deeper, the one lying on the ground now would definitely not be Sylka.

  "His Eminence Cardinal rarely gives me a chance to train. Naturally, I must make good use of it. Such opponents are uncommon." Javi smiled, then thought for a moment, his blue eyes intentionally or unintentionally glancing toward the depths of the forest. "And I learned in a duel long ago that trying to save effort on everything isn't necessarily good. The key is that only by facing danger calmly and fighting with one's own strength can a person grow."

  Talise blinked, thought for a moment, and the admiration in her gaze toward Javi deepened.

  Wilskey nodded, a flash of light in his eyes. After a long while, he said flatly: "A youth who understands growth—formidable."