Myia continued to walk towards the carriage, her petite feet leaving small footprints. The fire magic burned through the air and her steps were light and easygoing. As she got closer and closer, she politely asked Ovid, “May I ask for your name?”

Ovid had yet to even achieve preception, yet Myia treated him with the same degree of respect as she had toward Cai Hua. 

Naturally, this was because he was travelling with two such illustrious names, so he mustn’t be an ordinary person. She had conjured up a number of possible identities, yet none of them seemed plausible. 

Ovid was able to reply with his name, yet at this moment, Cai Hua’s voice rang out. “This youth is my recently accepted disciple. Her (his) aptitude is far superior to even your clergy’s Catherine; listen closely, this kid is called Ovid Lang, and her (his) talent is something seen only a million years. If you hadn’t treated my disciple with the same degree as your princess, I would have ended you in a single slash.”

Cai Hua was probably the only person in the world to assert that Ovid, this person who couldn’t even sense mana, had a greater talent than Catherine, who was a full generation before him. Moreover, there was another strange creature Anna, who had taken the first step in a single day, sitting in the carriage.

For his reason, the usually emotionlessly Ovid felt his face burn with shame, in a moment, he decided in the future, he would answer his name before Cai Hua could open his mouth.

It was at this moment that Myia had reached less than 20 meters away from the carriage. Her hands grasping her blade so tightly that it seemed she had fused with it. 

Myia had long finished preparing her mental state. Her mana was completely concealed in that blade and had reached its peak. Seldomly, were anyone able to achieve such a state.

Ovid showed no signs of being a genius, and even if he were, he was far too young. While he had now gone under Cai Hua’s tutorage, he had learnt no manuals since he can’t use magic in the first place. It was simply impossible for him to survive her first strike and learn any of her weakness and flaws.

Even if he had the calculation speed of a computer, he could not overcome the fundamental difference arising from differences in the development of their magic capabilities.

He stared at Myia who resembled like a hardworking housewife buying groceries in the early morning, and took out the cleaver knife from the spatial ring. 

When Myia had been approaching the carriage, Ovid had performed many calculations in his mind. Cai Hua had given him a large number of manuals, which now transformed into images that flittered past his eyes. But in the end, you cannot stop into the same river twice - it was impossible to determine anything without prior knowledge.

Ovid gripped the cleaver and stared at the advancing Myia, his mind growing increasingly tense, forcing him to utilise that breathing exercise. 

Myia did not view him as an opponent, her eyes were focused on the two within the carriage. Aside from greeting Anna, her eyes had always stayed on Cai Hua.

Not to mention being heavily injured, even if his four limbs were torn off and his eyes were blinded, as long as the man was alive, he was still an immortal, a being who had transcended life. 

Cai Hua also looked at Myia.

But in reality, Cai Hua was not looking at him, but at her mana fluctuations. 

He had not yet told Ovid that the simplest method to find another’s weakness is through preception. That was naturally because Ovid was incapable of doing so, rendering it near useless.

Suddenly, Cai Hua’s gaze shifted on a space before Myia. Deliberately, he seized the cheap blade and took it out of its sheath. 

This blade cost him only half a liang, but the quality of the sword never mattered to him. 

Back in the Great Dividing Ranges, when Cai Hua gripped the hilt of his sword, the sword intent pierced through the world, severing a path countless miles long.

At the moment, Myia was the closest to him, so she faced the intense danger that could even terrify saints

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Without the slightest warning, Myia’s instinctual vigilance caused her body to burst with a powerful wave of mana. 

The brightness became a second sun, the white cloth on her body could not obscure the light. With a dull sound, the blade left its scabbard and then, next to Ovid’s head, it slashed down at the hand which held the cheap blade.

An abrupt flare kicked up a firestorm amongst the tall feather grass.

Having undergone extensive teaching from Cai Hua over the past five days, Ovid understood his intentions. The man had problems pouring tea, let alone holding a blade and slaying enemies. 

Cai Hua used his sword intent to present himself as bait, compelling Myia to burst forward as with her blade. 

Yesterday, Cai Hua told him that the most crucial component to the path of the sword is a sharp mind. This includes taking advantage of sudden changes in the rhyme of battle, such as when one person abandons defence for offence. At this moment, the flaws one had would increase exponentially, for the sudden change would always require the person to put their mind wholeheartedly to the attack.

Indeed, Myia had exactly done so, she was taking advantage of Cai Hua’s actions based on those principles. Yet at the same time, Ovid gained the possibility to take advantage of Myia.

In other words, Cai Hua had placed his faith and life into Ovid, allowing him to access the shiver of time when Myia was most vulnerable. 

Myia’s blade moved like fire, burning through the air. 

Ovid’s cleaver had already pierced forward. 

It was a simple slash, but simple is good.

As a deacon, Myia was still exposed to knives and swords. But she always wore light armour underneath her robes. Facing an immortal, she paid no attention to Ovid because he could not harm her.

The knife growled, carrying within itself the stress from the past few days, it tore the robes apart and squeezed through the tiny openings in the armour.

The blade entered her abdomen with a tiny tremor and blood started to appear.

Myia was completely ignorant of it. While it was painful, it was not enough to kill her.

But Ovid’s extended his arm the next moment and took the cheap sword in Cai Hua’s hand.

With the ghastly sound of tearing flesh, the second blade followed the first. Like chained lighting, it’s tip pierced at the exact location where cleaver penetrated the robes and armour. 

No longer was Myia protected by the armour. But how could she gain a status equal to Catherine is she would die to easily?

The violent burning flame suddenly fluctuated for a moment. 

Myia’s hand let go of the dagger and punched out. While it was not fast enough to create afterimage, it shot out with enough strength to blow Ovid’s head into countless pieces.

At this moment, Ovid’s two blades were embedded into, he could not pull out the dagger much less block the strike. What could he do?

On the icy cold plains, there was a rustle. A small, thin knife appeared out of nowhere and stabbed into Myia’s fist. 

A piece of metal would always be stronger than flesh. 

It was the scalpels Anna had used by the lake. 

Myia had not the slightest expression of pain. With unimaginable speed, she gripped her other hand and struck again.

Yet the tiny split between the two actions was enough. Even though his speed wasn’t enough to match that of a deacon, he had simultaneously drawn the cleaver’s knife from the deacon’s abdomen. Flicking his wrist to use the least amount of muscle, he turned the knife and blocked Myia’s hand. 

Myia’s pupils contracted, not expecting Ovid to have such fine control over his body. However, her first fist retracted, before speeding out once more like a missile. 

Almost at the same time as Myia retracted her fist, Ovid let go of the scalpels. He took out Cai Hua’s sword.

Everything happened too quickly, occurring only in a moment. 

The searing flashes flickered slightly and disappeared. All the mana condensed into that injured fist, turning it into a mountain dropping at Ovid’s head from above. 

It was her first true strike, an attack using mana. 

With the mountain fell, the mana surrounding Myia once more turned frantic, it created a temporary barrier that blocked everything from the outside world. 

Between the strike, Myia’s gaze turned instantly cold, abandoning her persona. It seemed as if she was asking how much longer Ovid would continue juggling those three pieces of steel. Ovid wasn’t one to speak much, so he didn’t return with words. Moreover, it was completely useless, because the barrier could block out knives and swords, he was unable to break through it, and thurst into his opponents’ body. The difference between mundane and supermundane was too big.

Fortunately, within the carriage, there had been a forgotten third person. Looking at Myia, her curious gaze had become one as cold as the deepest bottom of a well. 

Her preception encircled the deacon. She declared, “Right of the naval.” 

Cai Hua’s sword in Ovid’s hand went to where Anna said.

Myia was slightly afraid. This technique usually could only be employed after reaching bishop. She had gained her current position after mastering it, which tell how powerful this technique was. Yet Anna’s frightening preception could see through it in a single moment. 

However, she did not despair for Anna had no ability to attack, and Cai Hua had already lost his sword. Her light armour had already proven itself to be able to stop, so she did not think too much of it and decided to end the battle quickly. She no longer paid attention to Ovid’s three petty swords. 

However, she made a fatal mistake. 

Although Cai Hua was incapacitated, his sword intent was always with him. This sword intent is the strongest in the world and had endured countless hardship with Cai Hua. It could cut through bone easily, and it could cut through steel just the same. It also had the ability to overcome the difference between mortals and magicians. 

With a silent squelch, the sword in Ovid’s hands ripped through Myia’s robes and light armour. It broke through her body that was as soft as an ordinary person’s afterwards, and continued like a beam of light as if it was going to annihilate any existence before the tip of the sword.

A grievous wail and pain followed.

Myia had never expected that her over-confidence in her light armour would allow the three to cooperate to place her in such a dangerous position. All of the mana surrounding her burned fiercely.

It was difficult for Ovid to advance. Myia had burned up her entire reserve of mana, creating a barrier before her naval to stop the sword. The mountainous fist continued toward Ovid’s head, wishing to turn it into a horrifying scene. Not to mention that it was hard for Ovid’s sword to continue onward, even if it could break through that barrier, it would not leave behind a fatal wound, for he never intended to kill. The fist meanwhile, will land on his head.

It was very logical. 

It was very logical that Ovid had lost.