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."
Latest Chapter
Chapter 554: The Sage’s Gale: Crimson Eye of the Storm.
“This kid is toying with Elanor, and what was with that inappropriate way of touching her?” Gita spoke from the general stands, his brows knitted tightly.“Now what do you think about this duel, since you have been vouching for Elanor in her previous bout?” Murime said, glancing sideways at him.“You’re twisting my words and intent now, Murime,” Gita replied sharply. “I was not vouching for her.I was only stating the truth—Antonov was never her match.”“Then what about this one?” Murime pressed. “After the kid defeated Lukan, you went quiet and never made another comment.”“Ei, Murime, let’s just watch the bout,” Gita said dismissively, crossing his arms.“After all, we will both witness who ends up winning. For now, the bout is still even.”Back on the BattlefieldCrimson flooded everything.Elanor’s martial aura surged outward like a raging tide, saturating the gigantic battlefield in red light.It pressed down with immense force, rolling like waves upon waves of killing intent.Wi
Chapter 553: Choreography of Death.
“Then let’s see,” Oasis said, his smile widening just a fraction, sharp and playful at once.“How you dance.”Shhhhk—!!!He extended his fingers just a fraction.That single, almost lazy motion was enough, the cyan strings surged forward.They pierced through the air without sound at first, so thin they were almost invisible, then screamed as they accelerated, bending space around them.Lines of condensed cyan mana shot outward in erratic yet deliberate trajectories, twisting and splitting mid-flight, their edges vibrating with a lethal sharpness that made the air itself recoil.They were not simple projectiles.They were execution threads.Elanor’s pupils constricted.“Mmh,”she muttered softly as her perception caught the incoming attack—moving at blinding speed, angles overlapping,paths shifting as Oasis’s delicate control altered their forms in real time.Her feet moved.She began gliding backward.There was no forceful retreat, no wasted motion.With masterful fluidity, as if gr
Chapter 552: Symmetry of the Crimson and Cyan- Final Duel.
The midnight bell rang.Its sound was even deeper than before,more unatural ancient, and absolute—one heavy toll that echoed throughout the Grand Sanctuary of Greatness like the decree of the heavens themselves.The resonance rolled through towering arches, through layered stands, through the very air saturated with mana and anticipation.As it welcomed midnight and the final duel, the roar of the crowd below erupted all at once, voices colliding into a thunderous wave that shook the gigantic battlefield.Under the vast, moonless sky filled with endless stars, Oasis Bluemoon(Volacris) stood before Elanor Bal.Unlike every other match before this—where participants took their positions at opposite ends of the battlefield,separated by distance and caution—these two stood at the very center.Face to face.Close enough that the space between them felt charged, compressed, alive.No grand gestures.No needless movement.Just two figures standing beneath the stars, as if the entire tournam
Chapter 551: Royal City of Omara.
Few hours later.Kingdom of DuskreedBrivana Royal Region — Royal City of OmaraThe night skies above Omara were ignited with countless stars, a vast silver tapestry stretched across the heavens, unmarred by the presence of the moon.Its absence made the starlight sharper, colder, as if each point of light were a watching eye.A night breeze whispered through the grand avenues of the city, carrying with it a faint chill that brushed against skin like a warning rather than comfort.Omara was immense—an imperial city worthy of ruling a kingdom.From its outer districts to the royal heart, the city burned with light.Lanterns lined every road and bridge, their warm golden glow reflecting off polished stone streets and towering white walls etched with sigils.High-grade mana lamps hovered at intervals above major crossings, humming softly, their cores fed by refined mana stones.The air itself felt dense, saturated with wealth and power, as though massive layers of gold, spirit crystals,
Chapter 550: The Silent Breach: Anti-Seal.
Just before the technique takes hold—In a blinding burst of speed that most within the noble gallery failed to even register, Barrett Woods moved.There was no warning aura flare, no pressure surge, no distortion of air to announce his intent.One moment he was seated—composed, dignified, seemingly relaxed—and the next, space itself appeared to fold.In an instant, Barrett stood before Oasis.Two fingers snapped forward.They struck the side of Oasis’s neck with terrifying precision,landing on a point so exact that even seasoned Enlightened cultivators would hesitate to target it casually—a spiritual circulation node,a hidden convergence where refined mana flowed upward toward the conscious realm pathways to ignite the spiritual techniques.The impact was gentle.Yet devastating.The moment his fingers connected, Oasis felt it immediately.His spiritual circulation halted.Not shattered.Not disrupted.Sealed.!!!The reaction was instantaneous.Before sound could even catch up to
Chapter 549: The Predator’s Invitation.
Grand Sanctuary of GreatnessTwilightOasis had not left the noble gallery.While the entertainment below continued and the crowd roared in waves that rose and fell like a living tide,he remained seated among the nobles, his presence calm, almost casual, as though he were merely an observer rather than one of the finalists awaiting the climax of the tournament.From here, the entire arena could be seen—an ocean of seats descending toward the vast battlefield below, where performers displayed their arts.Oasis sat with his retainers nearby, their postures disciplined yet relaxed, eyes alert but not tense.Beside him, Delvan leaned close, speaking animatedly, his voice low but continuous.“…and then did you see how he tried to pivot? That stance was completely off,” Delvan whispered, barely containing his excitement.“Brother, if he shifted his weight just a fraction earlier—”Oasis nodded occasionally, offering brief responses, sometimes a faint smile, sometimes a single word.Delvan,
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