Battle III

When Hellman reacted, the "Philosopher's Sword" had already swept toward him, slashing at the back of his neck.

But he was, after all, an apostle ascended from a renowned warrior. Though limited by the frailty of this body and unable to wield even one percent of his true strength, he would not be so easily caught off guard by Gilan.

Hellman instantly turned into a cloud of blood mist.

Whoosh!!

Gilan's sword swung through empty air.

The blood mist was split in two by the sword aura, churning wildly.

The terrifying silver sword light sheared through the four massive stone pillars at the edge of the stage. With a thunderous crash, the entire canopy above the stage collapsed.

Bang!

Clang!!

Dust, wood chips, iron scraps, and other debris flew everywhere.

The cluster of spotlights, which had been the only source of illumination, fell along with the collapsed lighting rig and shattered on impact.

The entire concert hall was instantly plunged into darkness.

Clang! Clang! Clang!!

Soon, rapid and intense clashes rang out from within the darkness.

Flashes of sparks lit up small patches of the hall, revealing Hellman and Gilan suspended in midair, exchanging blows without pause.

The darkness did not hinder either of them.

With Gnosis and spiritual vision alone, they could monitor the entire battlefield. They had no need to rely on ordinary sight.

Clang!!

Hellman swung his sword again, colliding once more with the young man hidden in the darkness. Violent tremors traveled from the blade into his arm, covering it in cracks.

His body was sent flying backward once more, turning into blood mist and dispersing midway.

"Damn it..."

He condensed behind the violet-eyed youth, his expression grim.

Hellman's current body was clearly beginning to give out after such an intense battle.

The sword of Gilan