Chapter 287: Sparring and the Winged

The second day after returning from the void, and one day after the celebratory feast, Edward, Charles, and the others departed for Aleisterre.

The Nightblades still needed Charles to settle some affairs on their end. The newly formed Nightblades branch, the Isolated Fang, was yet incomplete. More urgently, their abrupt absence might lead certain vigilant parties to suspect a possible association with Wang Yu, the so-called “traitor of Aleisterre.”

Before Charles left, Wang Yu conferred with One regarding the situation with the devils. Wang Yu had slain three more devils in his recent battle in addition to the original Seven. As a result, One’s power had grown significantly.

“Based on your descriptions, the ones you killed were likely Three, Four, and Five. Their special abilities were Distortion, Pact, and Corruption, respectively.

“The seven of us once held equal shares of power. Now that there are only three of us left, my strength has increased tremendously. For that, I owe you thanks. There’s far more I can accomplish now.”

One, who was currently in control of Charles’ body, elaborated on the fates of her fallen siblings.

“Were you truly, as Three claimed, exiles from the infernal plane?” Wang Yu asked. “He claimed that you were scattered spirits who spread chaos and catastrophe simply to draw power from the void, the only place that would shelter you.”

It was a fair question. Three’s words had seemed convincing, but Wang Yu knew better than to trust devils blindly. Better to ask a “devil he could trust.”

“More or less,” One replied. “Though I’m an outlier. Unlike the others, I can exist in the material world without anchoring myself to a host—though in that state, my power is nearly negligible.

“But yes, sowing disorder in the material world draws energy to us from the void. I probably should’ve told you this sooner, but I never expected you to encounter more devils. They’re so rare that even I seldom see them.”

There were only seven of their kind in the world—and Wang Yu had already somehow met and killed four.

“It’s becoming harder to chalk these encounters up to coincidence,” Wang Yu said quietly.

Given his nature, Wang Yu seemed to be an obvious counter to the devils. Their typical void-based protection and near-immortality meant little against someone who could physically enter the void and fight with his bare hands.

Though the devils might have seemed weak against him, Wang Yu was only now realizing how few viable anti-devil measures humanity had. The requirement of physically entering the void to destroy them for good had ended countless attempts before they could even begin.

“Can you tell me the powers of the remaining two—Two and Six? If necessary, I’d like to strike first next time. Waiting for them to cause trouble isn’t ideal.”

Wang Yu’s tone shifted. The devils’ actions left him resolved: he would become a devil hunter if need be.

“I know what they are, but I can’t say,” One answered. “It’s a restriction imposed by the void itself. Devils like me who depend almost entirely on void energy are forbidden from disclosing the abilities of others while they still live.”

“Be wary of Two. It may take a particular interest in you. As for Six… it likely won’t bother. It may not even care to appear in the material world at all.”

One couldn’t say more, but a veiled warning was still within bounds.

“Understood. Thanks for the heads-up.”

He hadn’t learned much, but at least he now understood the motivations of the devils.

Bidding farewell to their old friends in Aleisterre, Wang Yu and his companions prepared to return to the elven capital of Liaheim. The Skyborne City was expected to arrive there soon. Once it did, they would board the ancient floating city—a marvel of alchemy and scholarship that had lasted through the ages.

Sieg needed the city’s facilities to contact his sister. Wang Yu and Avia, on the other hand, hoped to strengthen themselves and uncover the long-lost knowledge hidden in its boundless libraries.

But before they left, a certain meeting was in order. Outside the cursebinding spire, on a wide, open plain, two knights stood face-to-face. One wore medium armor—Garcia. The other was Wang Yu, clad only in leather.

“Hard to believe it’s only been two years,” Garcia said, drawing his longsword. “Back then, you were just a knight-in-training—and you’ve already since advanced to a grand knight. Only someone like Uller could compare. It took me over a decade to get that far. Standing next to you two is a bit embarrassing, you know?”

Instead of the training sword he had used with the black knight, Garcia drew the real thing from his waist. It wasn’t a legendary artifact, but it was still a high-grade weapon and priceless in its own right.

“There’s a huge gap in strength between a novice grand knight and an established one,” Wang Yu replied with a smile. “I’ve still got a long way to catch up to you, Garcia.”

Blood pooled from nowhere and crawled over Wang Yu’s skin. Shaped by Blood Tempest, then transmuted by his refined Material Shaping, the blood hardened into crimson armor—somewhat garish, yet lightweight and perfectly fitted.

This was armor unique to Wang Yu. And if he ever needed more durability, Avia had prepared alchemical alloys as substitute material.

“You really plan to catch up in just a few more years? You’re not making it easy for old men like me,” Garcia laughed, lifting his sword into a ready stance. “But fine. Today’s about showing you how grand knights fight. Maybe knocking you around a little will do you some good.”

“Go ahead, Garcia. Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

For Wang Yu, injury wasn’t a concern—it was just another tool in battle. The more he could learn, the better.

“Ready? Try not to fall too quickly.”

There was no more banter. Garcia’s tone turned serious.

With a thunderous stomp, Garcia vanished. In his place, a small crater marked where he had launched off the ground.

At full strength, a grand knight would have caused far more devastation. That was the fundamental distinction between the combat style of a grand knight and a knight of lower rank.

One purpose of externalizing fighting spirit as tangible force was to create anchors, points from which grand knights could draw power. Without these, the world itself too often failed to provide the necessary counterforce for their attacks and movements. By cloaking their bodies in solidified fighting spirit, grand knights could channel their full might at will, regardless of environment.

“He’s so fast!”

The force of the Chariot spread outward into Garcia’s path. Though Wang Yu’s senses could track him, Garcia’s speed still outstripped his own by far.

Wang Yu tried to bind Garcia’s form with the Chariot’s power, but he failed. Garcia moved too swiftly, and besides, his power could not act directly on a living being.

Changing tactics, Wang Yu shifted as he would when invoking the Commander’s Throne. He directed the Chariot’s force in a four-meter radius around him and exerted downward pressure equally on everything within.

The force wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough to slow Garcia’s weaving, zigzag advance by a fraction of a heartbeat.

Wang Yu twisted. He met Garcia’s sword, which closed the distance almost in an instant, with his own shattered starsteel blade. Being aware of Garcia’s movements gave him just enough time to block.

Steel struck steel. The tremor raced up through Wang Yu’s weapon to its hilt. But the force that met him gave him pause: Garcia had held back. A grand knight’s full strength would have done far more damage.

Alarm bells rang out in Wang Yu’s mind. He dropped his weight to the right, dug in his heel, and pivoted, unleashing a sweeping kick with his left leg that cut through the air.

The blades screamed against each other. Garcia’s sword slid along the edge of the shattered starsteel blade, down toward Wang Yu’s wrist, before lashing out with deadly precision.

Moving as one with his blade, Garcia slipped past Wang Yu’s kick, his superior speed giving him the edge.

Wang Yu heaved with all his might, trying to force Garcia’s sword away—but Garcia’s mastery, combined with his strength, laid bare the gap between them.

Garcia could easily adapt and counter to Wang Yu’s moves by adjusting the pressure and angle of his blade. The shattered starsteel blade no longer seemed to respond fluidly to Wang Yu’s will.

Without hesitation, Wang Yu abandoned the now-cumbersome weapon, preparing to close the distance and strike Garcia with his bare hands, where swordplay mattered less.

But in that instant as Wang Yu’s fingers loosened their grip, Garcia suddenly swung his sword with sudden, massive force. The two weapons collided in a brutal strike.

Wang Yu, whose grip had loosened, grimaced as the jolt cracked the bones in his hand. The shattered starsteel blade swung through the air.

Ignoring the pain lancing through his ruined hand, Wang Yu drove his fighting spirit to its limit. With all his strength, he hurled a punch at Garcia, aiming for the man’s throat. He could feel it—Garcia’s killing blow was coming.

And he was right. Garcia used the rebound from the clash to pivot. His sword thrust toward Wang Yu’s chest like a bolt of lightning.

Fist and blade rushed toward their targets, nearly simultaneous—the sort of brutal gamble Wang Yu was known for.

But just then, Garcia sped up once more, a sudden surge of speed that defied all logic. He dipped low and dodged Wang Yu’s strike, his sword lancing forward as though space itself had skipped a beat.

Wang Yu’s fist punched through empty air as it grazed the top of Garcia’s head. A heartbeat later, Garcia’s sword punctured Wang Yu’s chestplate, its tip biting through skin and sinking into flesh, stopping just short of his heart.

Garcia’s free hand followed, a hammer-blow poised behind the sword’s hilt.

Had he not held back, that strike would have driven the blade through Wang Yu’s body like a nail through wood.

“Your potential?” Wang Yu asked wryly, as he summoned the Chariot’s force to reclaim his blade.

The wound to his heart would not kill him, but if Garcia were to unleash his full fury now, Wang Yu’s body would crumble beneath his onslaught.

If Garcia hadn’t managed that explosive burst of speed just now, Wang Yu wouldn’t have lost quite so easily.

That speed had appeared out of thin air. Wang Yu could think of no other explanation save Garcia’s potential.

“That’s right,” Garcia said, withdrawing his sword gracefully. “My potential is Burst. It amplifies all my physical attributes for a brief moment. It doesn’t grant me endurance—but in a matched fight, a sudden burst is often enough to end things.”

Garcia dipped his head. He had set up this duel largely as cautionary advice to Wang Yu: though Wang Yu’s unique abilities granted him a remarkable edge under rare circumstances, that advantage didn’t extend to all opponents. Against Garcia, Wang Yu had been wholly outmatched.

“A formidable potential,” Wang Yu admitted. “At this level, a single opening means defeat. Anyone foolish enough to test you would pay dearly the moment you invoked your potential, Garcia.”

He could now see why Garcia bore the title of Sword Saint.

“Again?” Garcia offered. “Your reflexes were good. You should be able to do better now that you know what I can do.”

He was pleased by Wang Yu’s calm assessment of himself and his own abilities. He drew back, ready to resume their bout—only to pause as he tracked Wang Yu’s gaze upward.

“Is that… a Winged?” Wang Yu murmured, uncertain.

Far above, a man approached from the sky with powerful wingbeats, a great eagle soaring at his side. Bare-chested, his skin marked with glowing sigils, a diamond-shaped crystal set into his brow, the stranger seemed to radiate an unfamiliar power.

Wang Yu was all but certain that this was his first encounter with yet another of the five races—the Winged.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep