Crystal, flesh, rotting bodies, spiders, beasts, armor. Ash had already forgotten how many enemies he had cut down. Almost by instinct, he lost himself in swinging his blades, his hands like propellers that shredded anything that stepped into his sword domain, his feet keeping pace with Vishy's steps.
They were like a moving reef, braving the golden storm and the legion's flood head-on.
When his blades went dull, he used enemies with steel bodies to sharpen them. This was called "Honing Blade." When he cut into flesh and got caught by muscle, he shook his wrists and tore it open completely. This was called "Vibration." When he met long weapons, he attacked the centerline of the weapon. This was called "Cutting Sword." When he met a heavy hammer strike, he turned around and let Vishy take the hit.
Everything Sonia, Diya, and Tama Hill had once taught, shared, and displayed in actual combat—all those sword techniques, fist arts, and claw skills—were replicated by Ash one by one in this high-intensity close-quarters slaughter.
But his combat style was not as violent as Sonia's, nor as soft and insidious as Diya's, much less as unpredictable as Tama Hill's. He simply wielded his twin swords as he pleased, following his instincts to dance them through the most graceful trajectories, and no one could approach his twin-sword domain.
Vishy felt this most deeply—Ash had gone from slightly raw and strained at the beginning, to handling it with ease, to being completely immersed in it now. Even though Ash was behind her, she could clearly sense the pleasure coming from this man's body.
Vishy recalled that in her era, some Legendary Arcanists, in pursuit of the Demigod realm, would voluntarily restrict their own Spell Power and challenge the most dangerous trials with mortal bodies, perfecting