Chapter 982

Unaware that Grey had returned to their world, the others continued to fight with every ounce of strength they possessed.

On the frontlines, Alba, Killian, Brook, and the rest of the Crimson Lotus Clan—though scattered across different sectors—were being steadily overwhelmed by the sheer size of the army.

Yet, they resisted with unyielding defiance.

Especially Alba and Killian, the undisputed blades of the clan.

They were tearing through the opposition as if the men were made of nothing more than paper.

Even though he was visibly injured and growing weary, Killian maintained a manic grin.

"You get a flame slash," he smirked, hauling his crimson blade through the air.

A roaring arc of fire followed, tearing a deep, cauterized gash across the chest of an attacker.

"... You get a flame slash too!"

Swooosh—!

The torso of another fighter was torn wide open.

"And you get a flame slash too," he chuckled.

Swinging from a low angle, another fiery wave erupted, ripping through the midsection of a nearby soldier.

Vaulting into the air as dozens of men converged on his position, his crimson sword blazed with renewed intensity while he spun like a lethal whirlwind.

"Everybody gets a flame slash!"

A dozen crescents of fire rippled outward in every direction.

While some soldiers managed to defend against the thermal waves, those who failed were delivered devastating burnt strikes wherever the energy reached.

Landing back on the earth, an invisible Ki fist was sent rocketing toward his head.

Killian deflected the blow with his obsidian sword, but instead of cutting through the energy, the dark blade immediately absorbed the impact.

A circular counter on the guard of the weapon rose slightly.

Killian’s smirk widened as he twirled, absorbing an invisible Ki slash that was speeding his way.

The counter ticked upward again.

With nothing but a silent thought, he channeled the stored energy from the sword directly into his Dantian.

He felt replenished instantly.

Although it wasn’t a massive surge, he was sufficiently rejuvenated to continue his relentless rampage.

"Does this guy never run out of Ki?!" an enemy soldier screamed in terror.

Despair was beginning to surface across the army as Killian descended into a fresh flurry of Ki strikes that sent limbs sprawling through the atmosphere.

Battle and bloodshed were the environments where he thrived most.

He didn’t care for politics or mercy; blood was the only currency he required.

He was getting plenty of it.

His face was painted a visceral crimson, yet he kept grinning, striking pure fear into the hearts of those attempting to encircle him.

...

Another lunatic dominating the battlefield was Rivock. He possessed absolutely no chill.

With a pair of Ki swords manifested in his hands, he began deflecting dozens upon dozens of coordinated strikes from his opponents.

He was undeniably skillful—far more refined than the losers currently obstructing his path.

Parrying a strike away, he drove his foot into the abdomen of an attacker, sending the body blasting away with immediate force.

Crouching beneath a horizontal swing, his second sword shot forward like a striking viper, burying itself in the midsection of another man who froze mid-charge.

Before the soldier could even collapse, Rivock sprang upright and clamped his hand onto the back of the dying man.

Pushing off with one hand, he swung his legs around, whipping them out with a loud, sonic crack.

A massive Ki crescent fired from his toes, bashing into the necks of a dozen men and decapitating them with ease.

The pressure he exerted on the man’s back beneath him forced the body into the soil, creating a wide chasm that seemed to split the very air.

Rivock didn’t fall with the corpse.

He landed on the ground smoothly, then immediately sidestepped a heavy hammer strike from a new assailant.

Before he could counter, an arrow whistled forward with deadly, fluid speed.

He inclined his head to the side, but the projectile still grazed his cheek, drawing a thin trickle of blood.

Rivock actually beamed at being injured.

Then, Ki coursed through his veins, compressing intensely at the soles of his feet.

With a deafening bang, he shot forward.

His sword sliced through the neck of the hammer wielder as he launched himself into the fray.

His hands then streaked through the air, parrying dozens upon dozens of arrows speeding toward his face.

Two men were charging at him, hoping to intercept his lunge.

Fluidly slipping past a slash from one of the men, his hand shot backward like a serpent; one of the Ki swords in his grip ripped through the back of the neck of the man whose attack he had just sidestepped.

Blood oozed onto his skin.

Without a moment’s pause, he yanked his hand out and swung it forward fluidly, cutting through the throat of the second man.

Within a second, the duo fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

His veins coiled around his thighs like taut cables and then, like a spring let loose, the soil shattered under his feet as he launched forward like a released arrow.

Within a heartbeat, he was standing before the men who were shooting at him.

He stood right in the middle of them.

Placing his palms on their shoulders with a smirk, he watched as they quickly turned around, ready to fire at point-blank range.

But with that same overwhelming velocity, Rivock was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

Instead, a loud click was heard followed by an explosion of force as the men’s arms were ripped from their sockets—the same shoulders Rivock had just touched.

Crimson sprayed into the air like a geyser.

The men screamed in agonizing pain.

But their cries were immediately cut short as Rivock materialized before them in a jiffy.

In one singular strike, their heads rolled off like a body tumbling down an inclined hill.

Twirling around with that same demonic, sinister smile on his face, he watched as the men surrounding him took half a step backward in fright.

They hadn’t expected this amount of ferocity from a kid.

It looked as though he was barely taking them seriously at this point because, from the very start of the battle, he had been grinning nonstop.

None had been able to wipe that expression off his face as he continued dispatching men like they were nothing.

"Oh come on, don’t be scared," Rivock said, angling his head to the side while looking at the soldiers with that unsettling, sinister smile.

"... I’m not gonna hurt you."

Whoosh—!

He was gone!