After speaking, the man activated an offensive martial skill that Kalvin recognized as being one of the staple techniques of his sect. His right arm was abruptly engulfed in a growing mass of black, greyish energy that slowly materialized into the beak of a well-known bird, that of a night swallow. About five paces long, the energy was so dense and volatile that a vortex of wind began to swirl around his arm and the long, pointy beak that extended out from it. This torrent would have spread far beyond the boundaries of the clearing had he not reined in much of the explosive energy and contained it within the technique itself.
The Night Swallow Strike, huh? Named after the bird that made up the emblem of Belren’s sect, the strike was known for focusing a tremendous amount of force upon a single, tiny tip, particularly the downward-curved beak that mimicked that of the real animal. Kalvin had never seen it used in person, but as someone who had spent countless fortunes in order to gather immense amounts of information concerning all of the prominent powers on the continent, he knew what was about to take place. Within the coming moments, Belren would break the defensive barrier and his followers would kill most, if not all of those that were facing them from the other side of the invisible shield.
Flying past his cousin amidst the dwindling winds, the short, bald man was quickly followed by the hundred individuals that he’d just addressed, Genesis-staged cultivators all. Closing the distance between him and the tower’s balcony in a flash, Belren appeared in front of Nolan with calm, calculated eyes, time seeming to slow as the two stared into one another’s gazes with equally stoic expressions.
Belren’s ashen robes fluttered about violently as he punched out with an incredible amount of strength that was rarely seen on the continent by even the most seasoned fighters. The energy around his arm solidified further at the last moment, taking on a sleek, black sheen that was similar to that of the halmite weapons that their enemies had somehow acquired.
The air in front of Nolan abruptly fractured as if a stone had just connected with a remarkably clean sheet of glass. So strong was the man’s attack that his subordinates were immediately stalled in midair where they struggled to maintain their current positions as if they were swimmers at sea that had suddenly been caught in the midst of an unexpectedly large wave.
The young man, Nolan, didn’t flinch as he continued to stare into the eyes of the Nightshadow Sect’s elder, though Kalvin noticed that his fists were clenching tightly against the rim of the tub where he hugged its borders in a relaxed, laidback position. Above him, most of his companions seemed uneasy, with many brows slick with sweat above wide, wary eyes.
As with before, Kalvin’s inner circle of subordinates were quick to shield the mercenaries, this time with large expulsions of their inner energies.
Kester’s voice was barely discernible in the din. “This is just an elder?”
Kalvin was in agreeance. Belren was at the peak of Genesis, and yet he was only a mid-ranking elder within a sect that boasted thousands of individuals of such station. Long, black hair whipping about in the wind like tall grass in the midst of a terrifying gale, Kalvin could only wonder how powerful the great elders of that sect were, let alone their leader.
Meanwhile, Belren was reading Nolan’s expression from several paces away, surprise in his eyes as the fractured air began to mend itself before his very eyes. Seeing this, he let out out an impatient harrumph and lashed out for a second time, hitting the barrier again and again in a blur of black energy as the ears of everyone present were met with dozens of crashing sounds within a matter of moments.
“Boss,” came Kester’s voice. “Are we even needed here? We’re just wasting energy like this.”
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Glancing over his shoulder, Kalvin saw that his mercenaries had gone noticeably pale. Not just a handful, but all within his line of sight. Thinking that it would be a waste to risk allowing his expensively-cultivated force to suffer any inadvertent injuries, he gave a decisive order to withdraw a few hundred paces beyond the fringes of the clearing’s boundaries.
A minute after Belren began his ruthless barrage, a great cracking sound preceded a shower of falling, crystal-clear shards that seemed to catch the sun’s afternoon rays at odd angles as they fell. Before the eyes of all present, Belren had broken the barrier without any outside help. No one spoke a word the moment that he did so, for just like Kalvin and his people, everyone watched on with bated breaths as Belren darted forward and made to end the young man’s life with one final strike. Only, he abruptly crashed against another invisible surface and was flung backward by an unknown force of repulsion, colliding directly with several of his senior disciples who were likewise sent flying backward.
Seeing this, Nolan’s lips spread into a wild smile, his eyes filled with focus and satisfaction as he cracked his neck with a nonchalant movement. Tilting his head at an arrogant angle, he fixed his eager, electrified stare at the man that had just attempted to take his life.
In this moment, Kalvin suspected that the situation wasn’t as simple as he’d been made to believe. Weather it was May Asten or the White Rogue, neither should have been capable of creating such an unprecedentedly potent defensive barrier.
Could it be…a grand arrayment? But that’s impossible. Hardly anyone in this world was capable of using such advanced arrayments, let alone any of the young ones in front of him. When it came to such techniques, there were all sorts of classifications. For instance, Tems supposedly knew how to cast a grand arrayment, but in the eyes of a real master, his technique didn’t deserve its acclaim.
An unknown tingle shot throughout Kalvin’s body as his mind worked furiously in an effort to examine the current situation. Did these young ones have an unknown expert behind them? If that was the case, then was this individual still lingering around unseen, ready to dispose of the gathered force in the event that their younger affiliates fell into immediate danger?
It would be foolish to overlook such a possibility.
Tems, he said angrily, directly projecting his voice into the man’s mind without relying on any talismans. What have you involved me in? This arrayment was obviously set up by a peerless master. If we don’t leave now, I’m afraid this clearing will become a mass grave for all of us to share.
If they had someone behind them, then they wouldn’t have nearly died when we were chasing them out of our territory. This is likely due to some type of talisman or treasure.
You’re willing to bet your life on such meager assurances?
Meager? The spirit of the lake would have killed them if it didn’t decide to target me instead. If they truly had some hidden protector, don’t you think this person would have shown up at that time?
Why would the spirit of the lake target you specifically?
Just do as you promised, and the tower is yours. Now stop watching like you’re unrelated and help us deal with this damned barrier!
It seemed that the young man’s claims really had been true. It was well known that the former master of the Falling Rain Sect had been killed by the spirit of the lake after the powerful beast had gone on an unexpected and unprovoked rampage. Only, the White Rogue had admitted that she had been responsible for this after being asked to do so by Tems himself. Whatever they had done, the beast clearly hadn’t forgotten it.
Nolan glanced up at the eaves that shaded the balcony, the White Rogue wearing a poisonous frown while May’s expression lightened slightly. The latter was the first to move, slipping off of the balcony and floating down to the tub below to sit on Nolan’s right side, her uniform quickly clinging to her curvaceous and tempting figure a moment after it was soaked through. The White Rogue followed with obvious reluctance, settling into the water at Nolan’s left side and quickly covering her chest lest the sodden white fabric of her clothes reveal what lay beneath. Turning her head to the left and avoiding eye contact with the young man, she seemed quite infuriated.
“Delia,” came Nolan’s voice through the pervasive silence. “Why don’t you pour me a glass of water?” After saying so, he produced a large pitcher of clear, energized water that quickly drew the eyes of many in the surroundings, placing a chalice of star gold on the floating table alongside it.