More unseeable blades travelled through the room. As their speed was too fast for the naked eye to see, Ulrika had to use her preception of the minimal fluctuations of the mana in the air to judge their exact location. Afterwards, she would summon a wall of flame to disperse the mana, spilling more licks of flame onto the ground below them.
The two women were standing several miles apart, yet the ferocity of their attacks seemed as if they were entangling at the closest of distance. Although the hall of Gael’s tomb was massive, under their mastery of mana, it was as short as a hair.
These two bigshots had mastered their respective techniques to the extreme and perfectly controlled their mana to the extreme. But they still could not block all the attacks directed at them.
A soft rustling could be heard as a blade was brought through the air. It crashed into Ulrika body and produced a straight cut at her abdomen.
Blood as red as fire came out, burning with an adust smell.
Unlike Glafx, who had exhausted his body, Ulrika’s wound soon began to heal, the blazing blood carrying a golden lustre. She summoned a teardrop of flame and launched it towards Irene’s position.
As a small explosion could be seen in the distance, the white colour of the polished limestone walls turned black. After the intense wave of heat faded, a portion of the walls had turned molten. It looked extremely horrible.
They truly deserved to be saints. Their attacks did not touch anything other than their opponent, yet as if the walls were made of dough, they easily distorted the shape. However, Irene, who had been squarely hit by the explosion, was undisturbed and even her thick coats remained in pristine condition.
The silent exchange of blows became swifter, yet also more dangerous. Strong winds stirring up in the empty hall, bring small stones and sand to a dance. Standing atop the giant pillar, Ovid did not confront the damaged face to face, for Irene had minimalised the widespread effects of her attacks. Still, feeling the terrifying power sent not far away from him, Ovid could not help but turn pale. Ovid could not help but admit that Irene was truly someone who qualifies to stand at the top of the world, and while he did not express it on his face, Ovid was certainly somewhat worried for Irene.
Still, with his excellent perception, he took in the confrontation, even the events taking place where Irene stands at many miles away. He even sensed the disturbance of mana created by the licks of flames.
Were it not for his recent encounter with Glafx, his sense of perception would be certainly injured, as the mana in the tomb had turned into a messy whirlpool by the wind and flame. As each travelled, they would cause mana to fly around chaotically, becoming very complicated.
Saints were the pinnacle of being in this world. The great deal of damage caused by a fight between the two was certainly the reason why Martha refused to enter conflict with Cai Hua, and the hostility between the Pope and Julia was limited to skirmishes at the northern mountain ranges.
While it was impossible to see Irene, the feathers of Ulrika had all sustained some damage, losing their pure white vitality, it now seemed rather miserable, like a worn-out pillow. Her eyes were full of flames as if a whole forest fire was hidden within them.
Abruptly, Irene said across the room in an indifferent tone, “Leave Ovid. I can kill you.”
Ulrika fluttered her wings, and as the teeth of sharks, an entirely new set of wings took it place. She looked at Irene and said, “I have died many times, but I am certain that you can’t kill me.”
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The fight between the two experts had originated from Irene’s aim of picking Ovid up after she sensed a major disturbance of in the tombs’ mana. She had rushed here right after informing Anna and launched her strike without much thought. Despite such haste, Irene had lived the longer life, and held the advantage of a deeper foundation. It was clear that Ulrika was injured, but she had yet to forfeit.
After a moment of silence, Irene added, “Death is unnecessary.”
Ulrika laughed and shook her head, “You are only one person but I have another following me. No matter how seriously injured I am, I still hold the upper hand, since Margrethe can kill her quicker than you can travel the room.”
Ovid, hearing Ulrika’s intention, remained as calm as a ten thousand year iceberg. Although he was a nobody compared to the two saints, he believed that he could at least hold against Margrethe long enough to be rescued by Irene.
He retracted his preception from the battlefield between the two saints and focused on Margrethe before him.
Seeing her long and thin eyebrows and proud eyes, Ovid felt that the girl seemed unwilling to act on Ulrika’s statement. Instead, her brows were raised as she said, “Sister, I won’t kill the loose woman. Since I already said that I will just imprison her, your suggestion is meaningless.”
Ulrika said, “This is for you own good.”
Margrethe replied, “Since my talent is so good, there is no way the loose woman can defeat me without outside help.”
“Very well.”
Ulrika gathered the fallen feathers with her mana and suspended them like an army of archers. Numerous broken feathers suddenly became extraordinary sharp, it’s edge giving a cold and chilling sense.
Ovid felt the mana surrounding Ulrika raise again and could not feel a bit bewildered. He looked at the arrow and assumed that it must be strengthed with an unimaginable amount of mana to gain such hardness.
Irene placed her hand within her robes and took out a massive slab. The slab was extremely dark and seemed to absorb all light that comes upon it.
Ulrika looked at that blade and grew quite envious. She said, “That’s the biggest piece of spacial stone I have seen. I know that Julia isn’t someone generous enough to give it to you. I never expected your luck was so good.”
Irene was a naturally quiet person and did not respond. She suddenly threw the special stone at her opponent as if it was a sling. The massive black stone seemed to absorb all the mana in the room before slamming into the arrows of feathers.
However, at the same time, Ulrika waved her hand at Ovid, producing a flame that flew towards him at high speed.
However, the intense heat of the flame could not even be felt by Ovid.
Because an axe pierced through the air and blocked the blaze with it’s black, cold steel body. With a slamming sound as loud as thunder, it stood as still as a hill after it fell onto the ground.
An extremely dignified and magnificent aura that even surpassed the fading grandness of this room spread in all directions along with the metal axe, as if it was not an axe, but instead a throne that countless rulers had sat on.
Looking at the metal axe, the smile on Ulrika’s face faded as she failed to recall which figure had wielded such a foreign weapon, yet to possess the aura of a saint. Judging by the mana of this axe, the person must be rather young, while the metal axe was an ancient heirloom.
She looked at the axe from antique and knew that she had no choice but to withdraw, as she cannot fight two saints at once. After a brief silence, she grabbed Margrethe and retreated out of the giant stone door.
A woman entered through a hole in the tomb’s ceiling that was made by her axe. She stood her to the metal axe that lacked any decorations, her linen coat of a plain colour contrasting the bluish-grey colour the axe possessed.
She took the axe and placed it in her spatial ring. The aura full of authority seemingly dissipated and the woman seemed to have lost all sense of presence.
Her broad brows that were more prevalent among men carried a hint of contempt as she saw Ulrika leaving the vicinity of the forest.
She then turned her attention toward Ovid. She said leisurely, “Cai Hua is someone very careless, feel free to as me for any healing pellets.”
Like Ulrika, Ovid was also surprised that a woman would abruptly appear from the sky. Still, since she sounded as if she knew Cai Hua quite familiarly, he lowered his head respectfully and said, “I am not injured too bad.”
He raised his head and carefully watched the woman. She was wearing a linen jacket and a cotton underdress and shoes, with a simple hairpin stuck in her hair along with a set of cards strapped to her belt. There was no powerful aura coming from and. Most people won’t see her as someone imposing and full of authority either.
However, Ovid felt safe standing beside the woman. As if protected by a powerful sovereign, he felt that it was impossible for him to come to harms besides the woman. Still, since he felt an aura like this when interacting with Glafx, he instinctively fell a sense of mistrust towards her.
The woman smiled gently, perhaps understanding his scepticism. She pondered how to seriously start a conversation with Ovid. After a while, she said simply, “I’m your teachers’ wife, Li Zhan.”
Ovid looked at Li Zhan up and down once more before making a gesture of respect. He said, “Then I have seen teachers’ wife.”
Li Zhan, while not flustered, felt this sounded somewhat inappropriate. Waving her hands, she said, “That is too formal and reminds me of the palace. "Li Zhan is fine.”