SWORD OF THE DEMON WOLF

The Dominant Wolf Sword Technique

Without waiting any longer, the tall, slender man immediately launched an attack. His fist shot out, aimed directly at Xiao Chen’s head with tremendous force.

Without attempting to dodge, Xiao Chen countered with a block equally strong. Right after, he thrust his claw-like strike toward his opponent’s exposed ribs. But Mo Lin swiftly shifted his body aside and retaliated with a quick punch.

Xiao Chen was startled, surprised by how Mo Lin could strike while evading at the same time.

Fortunately, his training with Benggala had sharpened his instincts. Xiao Chen quickly composed himself, dropping his body just in time. Mo Lin’s punch swept cleanly over his head, striking nothing but air.

He could feel the gust of wind slicing above him, ruffling strands of his hair. A sigh of relief escaped his lips—had that punch landed, his head might have been crushed.

But Mo Lin’s fast counterattack had been reckless and speculative. In doing so, he unconsciously left a gaping hole in his defense. Xiao Chen seized the chance, launching a swift counter.

His strike landed cleanly and unavoidably on Mo Lin’s stomach, forcing the thin man to grimace in pain as the blow sent sharp waves through his body.

Yet, luck still favored Mo Lin. His internal energy absorbed much of the damage, preventing serious internal injuries. The Mist Swordsman quickly circulated his qi to ease the pain and recover slightly.

“You said you’d crush me—where’s the proof?” Xiao Chen taunted with a soft laugh.

Mo Lin gritted his teeth, his pride wounded. Despite his long experience in the martial world, he had been embarrassed by a mere youth. He had never imagined that what he thought would be an easy fight would push him to this point. Fortunately, only Qian Hao was there to witness it.

“Mo Lin, do you need my help?” Qian Hao shouted.

“No! I can still handle this!” Mo Lin barked back, his voice laced with frustration.

“Hahaha! Then prove it. Stop talking big and show me what you can do!” Xiao Chen mocked again.

Mo Lin’s fury boiled over. Enraged, the tall, thin man drew his sword and leveled its tip at Xiao Chen. “I’ll make sure your life ends here and now!”

“You’ve been running your mouth all this time. If you really can do it, then stop talking and show me!” Xiao Chen retorted as he unsheathed the black sword strapped to his back.

He glanced briefly at the blade—its dark steel shimmered with rainbow hues under the sunlight. For a moment, the image of Benggala flashed in his mind. Xiao Chen shook his head, pushing away the distracting memory, then fixed his eyes on Mo Lin, who was already charging forward.

This time, Xiao Chen advanced as well, meeting the attack head-on.

Mo Lin unleashed his fiercest sword techniques without pause. His speed and mastery of the blade forced Xiao Chen to remain on the defensive, waiting for the right chance to counter.

Meanwhile, Qian Hao’s eyes widened as he watched from the side. His gaze locked onto the sword in Xiao Chen’s hand. A suspicion formed quickly in his mind.

“That must be the sacred weapon. I’m certain of it,” he muttered softly, unwilling to distract Mo Lin by telling him now.

Mo Lin’s speed grew faster and faster. After failing repeatedly to land a strike, he accelerated even more, unwilling to look weak in front of Qian Hao.

Xiao Chen, less experienced, gradually found himself pressed harder. Yet, despite the relentless sword strikes, not a single slash touched him.

As the fight intensified, Xiao Chen’s movements grew sharper. His inner energy responded to his will, enhancing his speed and precision.

Mo Lin was stunned. In an instant, the young man turned the tide, shifting from defense to offense. Forced back, Mo Lin had no choice but to retreat several steps, leaping away to create distance.

But Xiao Chen didn’t chase him recklessly. His lack of experience made him wary of possible traps, so he chose caution. Instead, he steadied his stance, preparing to unleash the Dominant Wolf Sword Technique.

Mo Lin steadied his breath, inhaling deeply before channeling his qi into his sword. Suddenly, powerful energy surged from his blade. A thin mist seeped from the white steel, enveloping it.

A heartbeat later, Mo Lin leapt forward, unleashing his ultimate technique.

Refusing to remain a passive target, Xiao Chen swung his sword, channeling half of his strength into the strike. He knew Mo Lin’s attack carried immense power—it couldn’t be met with half-hearted effort.

The two swords clashed again and again, each collision exploding with shockwaves. The repeated blasts filled the area with thick smoke.

Qian Hao instinctively backed away, unwilling to be caught in the clash. It would be foolish to get injured without even fighting. From a safer distance, he watched the battle obscured by smoke, trying to gauge the outcome.

The duel dragged on. Mo Lin grew more desperate as his inner energy drained rapidly, his defense weakening with every exchange.

Suddenly, his body was hurled out of the smoke, crashing to the ground. Xiao Chen had taken advantage of his fading strength, slashing at his right arm. The blade severed cleanly—Mo Lin’s sword arm was gone.

Before he could react, Xiao Chen delivered a crushing kick to his chest, sending him tumbling back several meters.

Mo Lin clenched his eyes shut, enduring the agony. But beyond the pain, humiliation consumed him—humiliated in front of Qian Hao, defeated by a mere youth.

Seeing Mo Lin thrown out of the smoke, his arm severed, Qian Hao rushed forward to help him.

“Idiot! You should’ve asked for my help when you were cornered! Now look at you—you’ve lost your strongest arm. You won’t be able to fight for a long time.”

Though angered, Qian Hao also felt pity. This wouldn’t have happened if they had fought together.

“I… I was ashamed to ask for help against this brat. I didn’t know he had such strength,” Mo Lin whispered weakly, grimacing in pain.

“Find a safe place. Leave him to me. I’ll kill that boy myself,” Qian Hao said with absolute confidence.

“But if you kill him, how will we claim the sacred weapon?”

Qian Hao smirked, his gaze fixed on the blade in Xiao Chen’s hand.

“The sword he carries is the sacred weapon we’ve been searching for.”