A Decisive Battle in Name, a One-Sided Beating in Reality

June 7, 9999 of the Yulan Calendar was destined to be no ordinary day. The O'Brien Empire's "genius Sword Saint," Olivier, was set to battle Bolan Baruch of the ancient Ultimate Warrior lineage, the Dragonblood Warriors, on the banks of the Yulan River—the very place where Olivier had first risen to fame!

At two in the morning, the night sky glittered with stars and the bright moon hung high overhead. Even the heavens seemed to be anticipating this duel.

Many residents of the imperial capital had already lit bonfires along the Yulan River. Countless people waited for this great battle that was destined to go down in history.

Not only had residents of the O'Brien Empire come, but many people from elsewhere had arrived as well. Leituo and others whom Bolan had befriended during his travels across the continent were also waiting by the Yulan River early on, watching this once-in-a-century spectacle. Altogether, there were probably several million people here.

Ordinary people gathered in small groups, discussing whom they favored. "I'm telling you, that Dragonblood Warrior named Bolan is definitely no match for Lord Olivier. Ten days ago, Lord Olivier defeated Lord Dilong, the Starry Sky Sword Saint, with only three strikes," said a dark-skinned young man.

"Bullshit! Dragonblood Warriors have always been the strongest warriors on the continent. Lord Bolan will never lose to some Olivier!" a fanatical-looking supporter of the Dragonblood Warrior clan loudly retorted.

Hearing this, the people nearby also joined the discussion. The once-silent banks of the Yulan River became exceptionally lively.

Fortunately, everyone was merely voicing support and would not casually start fighting. They were still fairly restrained; otherwise, the largest brawl in Yulan Continent history might have broken out!

At six in the morning, everyone saw Olivier standing quietly less than fifty meters above the river, impeccably groomed—no, not naked, impeccably groomed—his arms folded around the Ice Dream Sword that had originally been strapped to his back. Dressed in white robes, Olivier prompted wave after wave of cheers from his young fans nearby.

Meanwhile, Bolan had already gotten up and was doing his morning exercises.

Don't misunderstand. This was not because he took Olivier seriously; it was simply Bolan's good habit. Every day, he rose at five in the morning to begin his training.

Even though Wharton had been so excited that he had not slept all night, Bolan still calmly completed his daily training routine.

During that time, he even scolded Wharton for skipping his morning exercises today and told him that his training would be doubled when they returned. Wharton immediately shrank back and no longer dared to bounce around in front of Bolan. After all, his elder brother's fists yesterday had truly shown their love all over his little brother's face. If Dragonblood Warriors had not possessed such powerful recovery abilities, Wharton probably would not have been able to leave the house today!

After the family happily finished breakfast around the table, Bolan finally prepared to depart.

He called everyone from the Marquis's Estate, boarded the Silver Dragon, and flew toward the Yulan River.

"They're here!" The people along the Yulan River saw a Silver Dragon over a hundred meters long flying toward Olivier.

Olivier, who had been resting with his eyes closed, had already opened them. Bolan, standing on the dragon's back, directly transformed into a Dragonblood Warrior. Even Olivier, who had seen him once ten days ago, could not help but feel alarmed. Not to mention the outsiders who had never seen him before.

The two stood facing each other. Olivier held his sword in one hand, the Ice Dream Sword emitting a dazzling cold radiance. Blumer, watching from the riverbank, led many of Olivier's young fans in cheering. After shouting, he even cast a provocative glance at Wharton.

That glance made Wharton stomp his feet in fury, fully revealing his childish temperament.

Bolan, on the other hand, looked utterly unconcerned as he faced Olivier. He had even drawn only one Bloodslayer sword. His slovenly expression infuriated Olivier's fans among the spectators.

Olivier's expression, however, did not seem to change much. After reaching the Saint-level, and with both of them having only recently broken through, Olivier was very confident in the Law of Speed of Light he had comprehended. On top of that, he had effortlessly defeated the veteran Saint-level expert Dilong not long ago. Olivier was extremely full of himself now.

But against Bolan, Olivier truly had no advantage in this battle. Whether in physical strength, battle-qi strength, or comprehension of the laws, Bolan surpassed Olivier by far.

Olivier immediately created thirty-six afterimages and thrust at Bolan as though he could pierce space itself. He actually pierced straight through Bolan's head.

"Ah!"

Everyone present cried out in alarm. Could Bolan, who had seemed so confident just moments ago, have died just like that?

"Ha, too slow. So slow I'm about to fall asleep." Suddenly, Bolan's yawning voice came from behind Olivier.

Olivier immediately turned his sword back to defend himself, but Bolan had never intended to attack him yet. The expression on Bolan's face now made the proud Olivier's eyes seem to spit fire.

Olivier continuously swung his sword, turning it into one enormous white dragon after another. The dragons relentlessly assaulted Bolan, yet Bolan still wore that sleepy expression. With a few shifts of his body, he effortlessly evaded the sword-qi dragons Olivier had unleashed.

The crowd cried out in excitement, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. The Saint-level experts nearby, however, saw Bolan toying with Olivier like this and their pupils contracted.

"Bolan's strength has probably reached the peak of the Saint-level!" someone exclaimed. This was also a veteran Saint-level expert named Mackenzie. His strength had reached the middle stage of the Saint-level, and he was probably comparable to Olivier. Comparing himself to Bolan, who was constantly weaving and shifting through the battlefield, he knew he would absolutely be unable to evade such dense attacks from Olivier.

Seeing that Bolan seemed to be merely playing with him, Olivier directly brought out his trump card. The thirty-six Olivier afterimages on the field abruptly became seventy-two, while their speed increased by more than a level.

Even Bolan now had to take Olivier a little more seriously, though only a little.

Bolan had tested it before. At his fastest, he could produce one hundred and eight afterimages. One could imagine just how fast Bolan was now.

Having just evaded a strike, Bolan suddenly yawned. In a somewhat lazy tone, he said, "If this is the fastest you can go, you'd better obediently admit defeat."

But Olivier, who had been unable to land an attack for so long, was clearly not in good condition. His eyes were bloodshot, his once-meticulously groomed long hair had become disheveled, and he was constantly panting through his nostrils. Hearing Bolan's mocking words, his rage intensified. The sword in his hand gradually lost all order as he swung it.

"I'm done playing!" Bolan's previously lazy gaze instantly became sharp. He lightly thrust out his sword, and Sword One—an incomparably swift strike—directly dispersed the sword-qi dragon Olivier had unleashed. Sword Two followed immediately, severing the right arm of the increasingly irrational Olivier that held his sword.

Olivier's eyes gradually regained clarity beneath the intense pain of losing his right arm!

"I lost." Olivier had finally recognized reality. He spoke in a somewhat desolate voice.

Hearing Olivier concede, Bolan directly sheathed Bloodslayer and said coldly, "You were a good opponent, but not mine."

He then flew directly back to the Silver Dragon's head. Amid the awed gazes of the crowd, the Silver Dragon let out a long cry and returned directly to the Marquis's Estate.