As Sir Elias commenced his discourse on the various sword techniques.
The tranquil ambiance of the riverside remained undisturbed, save for the occasional leap of a fish as it broke the surface.
Creating ripples that danced across the water.
The gentle murmur of the flowing river provided a soothing backdrop to Sir Elias's words, amplifying the sense of serenity that enveloped the scene.
"Before we delve into testing your magical affinity, let me enlighten you about the Most renowned sword techniques in our realm,"
Sir Elias began, his voice carrying the weight of knowledge.
"Each kingdom has its own unique techniques, reflecting its culture and history."
"The first sword technique is the Celestial Blade, found in the Kingdom of Celestia," Sir Elias continued, his gaze drifting towards the heavens.
"It is a graceful and elegant technique, imbued with the light and purity of the celestial realm."
"It is often used by the celestial knights who guard the holy cathedral."
"The second technique is the Frostbite Technique, hailing from the icy Kingdom of Frostgard," Sir Elias explained, his breath forming a mist in the air.
"It is a fierce and relentless technique, honed in the harsh conditions of the frozen north."
"It is characterized by swift, precise strikes that mimic the biting cold of the frost."
"The third technique is the Emberstrike Form, originating from the fiery Kingdom of Emberfall," Sir Elias continued, his eyes gleaming with the intensity of flames.
"It is a bold and aggressive style, fueled by the fiery passion of its practitioners."
"It is known for its powerful, sweeping strikes that leave trails of fire in their wake."
"The fourth technique is the Shadow Dance, shrouded in mystery and darkness," Sir Elias explained, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"It is said to originate from the enigmatic Kingdom of Shadowrealm, where shadows hold sway over reality."
"Practitioners of this style are masters of stealth and deception, striking from the shadows with deadly precision."
"The fifth technique is the Torrential Wave, born from the coastal Kingdom of Stormreach," Sir Elias continued, his voice rising like the roar of the ocean.
"It is a fluid and dynamic style, inspired by the ebb and flow of the tides."
"It emphasizes fluid footwork and rapid, flowing strikes that mimic the crashing waves of the sea."
"The sixth technique is the Ironclad Technique, developed in the industrious Kingdom of Ironhold,"
Sir Elias explained, his words ringing with the clang of metal.
"It is a sturdy and resilient style, forged in the fires of industry and innovation."
"It focuses on powerful, heavy strikes and impenetrable defenses, reminiscent of the iron fortresses of Ironhold."
"The seventh technique is the Mystic Spiral, shrouded in arcane mystery," Sir Elias concluded, his gaze turning inward.
"It is said to originate from the ancient ruins of Mystoria, where magic flows like a river."
"Practitioners of this style harness the power of magic to enhance their swordplay, weaving spells into their strikes with unearthly precision."
"These are the seven renowned sword techniques of our realm," Sir Elias declared, his voice filled with reverence.
"Each one is a testament to the rich tapestry of our world, woven together by the diverse cultures and traditions of our kingdoms."
Sir Elias paused, his expression thoughtful, before continuing to explain additional styles:
"The eighth technique is the Abyssal Tide, hailing from the mysterious Kingdom of Abyssal Depths," Sir Elias began, his voice taking on a somber tone.
"It is a fluid and unpredictable style, inspired by the depths of the ocean."
"Practitioners of this style wield their swords with the grace and ferocity of the sea, striking with the force of a crashing wave."
"The ninth technique is the Solar Flare, originating from the sun-soaked Kingdom of Avaloria," Sir Elias continued, his voice filled with warmth and energy.
"It is a radiant and powerful style, infused with the fiery energy of the sun."
"Practitioners of this style channel the blazing heat of the desert into their strikes, overwhelming their opponents with searing intensity."
"And finally, the tenth technique is the Arcane Whirlwind, found in the mystical Kingdom of Mystoria,"
Sir Elias concluded, his voice tinged with awe and wonder.
"It is a whirlwind of raw magical energy, unleashed with wild abandon."
"Practitioners of this style tap into the chaotic forces of magic, spinning and twirling their swords with unearthly speed and agility."
Sir Elias shifted the focus back to their homeland, saying,
"Now, let me tell you about a secret technique used in the Royal family of Verdantia called the Verdant Arrow."
"It is not a sword technique, but rather an arrow technique used by the skilled archers of our homeland."
"Practitioners of this style draw upon the power of nature itself, infusing their arrows with the essence of the forest to strike with deadly accuracy."
"Sir Elias," Oasis began, his voice brimming with curiosity,
"you mentioned there were seven sword techniques, but you described ten. What about the other three?"
Sir Elias paused, his expression thoughtful as he considered Oasis's question.
"Ah, yes," he replied, his tone grave.
"The additional three techniques I mentioned are considered lost to time. They haven't been passed down to the current generations like the others."
A flicker of determination crossed Oasis's face.
"Lost?" he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "But surely, they must still exist somewhere. They can't simply vanish into thin air."
Sir Elias nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting Oasis's determination.
"Indeed, Oasis, that's precisely what I believe," he affirmed, his voice filled with conviction.
"I refuse to accept that these ancient styles are truly lost forever. With dedication and perseverance, they can be rediscovered and revitalized."
"So, what about the technique in the scroll from my box?" Oasis inquired, his gaze fixed on Sir Elias with keen interest.
"It seemed different from any of the seven you mentioned."
Sir Elias's brow furrowed slightly as he considered Oasis's question.
"That technique is indeed a mystery," he admitted, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"I have neither heard nor seen anything like it in all my years of study and practice."
"It appears to be a unique and enigmatic form of swordplay, perhaps lost even to the most seasoned scholars and warriors,"
Sir Elias mused, his thoughts drifting to the possibilities contained within the ancient scroll.
He paused for a moment, his eyes glinting with a newfound excitement.
"But that's enough lessons for today," Sir Elias declared, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "It's already late, and your training begins tomorrow."
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Chapter 665: The Saint’s Cage.
Whoosh—whoosh.The forest breathed with a low, ancient rhythm as the targeted man dashed through the towering woodland, his figure a blur weaving from branch to branch. Each step was precise, controlled—his feet barely touching the bark before launching him forward again. Leaves trembled in his wake, and the dense canopy above filtered the dim, emerald light across his moving silhouette. With a final leap, he ascended higher than before and landed upon a thick branch, crouching low, his hand braced against the rough surface as he stilled himself completely.Silence.From that stillness, his senses expanded outward, his perception stretching like an invisible net through the forest. The air itself seemed to ripple faintly as he probed deeper, searching, listening.Above him, unseen and untouched by that probing gaze, Vesta hovered lazily in his falcon form—his cyan feathers faintly shimmering against the filtered light. He did not flap his wings wildly; instead, he floated with effo
Chapter 664: The Falcon’s Interrogatory: Hespera and Elysiome.
Among the demonic cultivators, the one who had been speaking—clearly their leader—finally leaped down from atop his Tri-Venom Abyssal Tiger.His descent was heavy, deliberate, his bare feet slamming into the ground with a dull, echoing thud that rippled faintly through the already corrupted earth.Above, hidden within the dense canopy, Vesta did not move an inch.He remained perfectly still, his presence erased so completely that even the surrounding mana seemed unaware of him. His golden eyes simply watched, sharp and calculating, as everything unfolded below.The man slowly crouched, his movements controlled but tense. Before him lay what remained of the beast Vesta had killed.Ash.Barely anything more.Even the ashes themselves were sparse, as if they had been further consumed after death. The cyan flames had left nothing behind—no bone, no flesh, no trace of what once was.He reached out, letting the remnants sift through his fingers. Then he brought his hand closer, sniffing lig
Chapter 663: The Tribes of the Damned.
“Necrotic mana…”Vesta’s golden eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the beast before him. The Tri-Venom Abyssal Tiger stood firm, its massive frame trembling as it inhaled the surrounding mana with violent intensity.The air itself warped around it—dark distortions rippling outward like cracks in reality. The once vibrant grass beneath its feet began to rot, blackening and curling in on itself as if life was being siphoned away.The pressure rose.It wasn’t just heavy—it was suffocating.The mana emanating from the beast thickened into something foul, something corrosive.It pressed down on the surroundings with such force that even the already heightened gravity deepened further, dragging at everything within its reach.Then—Without warning—It exhaled.A massive necrotic blast erupted from its maw.The attack tore through the air with a shrill whistle, a wave of dark, decaying energy that devoured everything in its path. Trees disintegrated, the ground cracked and withered, and t
Chapter 662: The Boundary of Echoes.
After some minutes, high above the towering expanse of colossal trunk trees, Vesta soared through the vast canopy in the form of a radiant cyan falcon. His wings sliced cleanly through the currents, leaving behind faint streaks of shimmering light as the dense air parted around him.The further he traveled, the more the environment began to shift—subtly at first, then undeniably.“Mmh… it really is like another world on this side of the Celestial Sphere,” Vesta thought, his sharp golden eyes scanning everything below with piercing precision.The bamboo groves had long vanished behind him. In their place stood ancient trees—massive, thick, and gnarled—stretching skyward like pillars that upheld the heavens themselves.Their canopies were so dense that sunlight filtered through in fractured beams, casting dancing shadows across the forest floor far below. The air itself felt heavier, thicker, as if saturated with a deeper, more ancient form of mana.Then—His gaze sharpened.“...What is
Chapter 661: The Weight of Ambition.
Venak instinctively stepped forward, his lips parting as he raised his hand slightly. “Vesta—” he called, intending to stop him, to at least discuss the scouting plan properly before anyone moved ahead into unknown territory.But before the words could fully leave his mouth—Daku’s hand came up, stopping him.“It’s fine, brother. Let him be,” Daku said calmly, his gaze still fixed in the direction Vesta had vanished. “This will actually work in our favor.”Venak turned slightly toward him.“After all,” Daku continued, “Vesta can escape if the need arises. You’ve seen it—his ability to disperse into flames. That alone makes him far more suited for scouting unknown terrain than any of us.”He paused, then added, “And… didn’t you feel it?”“The moment he transformed… his presence shifted.”“It was no longer that of a human child.”“…It was that of a mystic beast.”Venak exhaled softly, lowering his hand. “Yeah… you’re right.”A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Sometimes I f
Chapter 660: The Bitter Catalyst.
The Blood Roses moved as one through the towering bamboo canopy, their figures weaving between the swaying green pillars with speed that would have been impossible for ordinary cultivators.Yet, despite how fast they were moving, their pace was ultimately dictated by one person—Delvan. He was the slowest among them, bound by the limits of the Newborn Realm, and to maintain formation, the others had no choice but to match his speed.It was not an easy pace to sustain.Their bodies burned through stamina, their mana circulated continuously to reinforce movement, balance, and perception. The strain was evident—yet not equal among them.Vesta and Daku moved almost effortlessly, their reserves vast and their control refined to a terrifying degree. Venak followed closely behind, his breathing steady, his movements precise.Du Shiye, though slightly taxed, maintained composure. And then there was Delvan—sweat clinging to his skin, breath growing heavier with each passing minute, yet still pu
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