The storm raged with darkness and gloom, as if the heavenly river had overturned and poured down.
The dagger's flight path twisted and wound like a serpent, elusive and unpredictable without any discernible pattern.
Morrison had completely closed the distance, putting the long sword at a massive disadvantage.
Zachak had no choice but to resort to this desperate measure, reversing his grip on the sword to rapidly parry with the dark steel pommel.
As they dodged and weaved, their close-quarters combat erupted in bursts of sparks that instantly died out amidst the rain droplets.
A loud clang sounded.
Morrison lost advantage as his dagger was deflected into a tree, piercing straight through and leaving a hole.
Just as Zachak was about to seize victory, swinging his sword back in a reverse slash, Morrison vanished from his direct line of sight.
Somehow, blade tips had sprung from the front of his boots. Bracing himself with one hand on the ground, he violently swung his leg in a diagonal kick toward Zachak's side, seemingly channeling all his strength to the extreme. The move tore through the air with fierce wind - a strike that would mean certain death or severe injury if it connected.
Missing his first strike, Morrison used the momentum to flip backward and leap away, simultaneously hurling three throwing knives mid-air that ripped through layers of rain curtain, making them impossible to anticipate.
Even Zachak only managed to deflect two of them, with the final blade passing by the side of his head, slicing off a lock of his hair.
Lightning split the clouds overhead.
For an instant, everything was illuminated as bright as daylight.
Morrison's disfigured half-face appeared terrifyingly grotesque under the lightning's glare.
He drew a whip-blade of interconnected blades from his waist. Under the faint light of the rainy night, the repeatedly layered gleaming blades emitted a chilling aura, like a bloodthirsty serpent.
Zachak's breathing became slightly disordered but quickly stabilized, his gaze calm. Throwing knives, spring-loaded boot blades, whip weapons - what was with this man? All his weapons were quite unconventional, with even his regular equipment also secured to his body through straps without missing a single piece, utterly bizarre.
Crimson sword energy blossomed forth as Zachak unleashed thirteen slashes in an instant, each one carrying overwhelming, irresistible force.
Clang! Clang! Clang!...
Zachak's breathing became slightly disordered but quickly stabilized, his gaze calm. Throwing knives, spring-loaded boot blades, whip weapons - what was with this man? All his weapons were quite unconventional, with even his standard equipment also secured to his body through straps without missing a single piece, utterly bizarre.
Morrison pulled back, the whip-blade instantly coiling around the iron armor on his arm.
A miraculous technique.
Zachak knew he must resort to any means necessary for victory. He dragged his crimson sword across the ground, sword wind tearing through the earth and sending countless flying shattered stones and mud shooting upward to obstruct Morrison's vision.
Morrison pulled his whip-blade, violently swinging it until it resembled dozens of white venomous snakes biting through the air, tangling and dancing wildly into a cutting storm. In that brief moment, the crimson sword's radiance vanished without trace amidst the clashing echoes, surrounding rainwater scattering apart.
It was unimaginable how much equipment Morrison actually carried. A mechanism at his elbow position unfolded like a folding fan, revealing chilling chain-linked wing blades. As he swung both arms crossed and pulled, the fan-like blades returned all the shattered stones back as tribute, then the blade fan instantly folded back into the mechanism.
Morrison's damaged, split crocodile-skin coat actually launched over twenty throwing knives from its hem. As Morrison violently pulled the coat hem, they fanned out like peacock feathers.
Zachak knew he must resort to any means necessary for victory. He dragged his crimson sword across the ground, sword wind tearing through the earth and sending countless shattered stones and flying mud shooting upward to obstruct Morrison's vision.
Countless flashy hidden weapons swarmed like tangled hemp, overwhelming the sky and earth as they descended. Zachak responded with a domineering slash.
It was unimaginable how much equipment Morrison actually carried. A mechanism at his elbow position unfolded like a folding fan, revealing chilling chain-linked wing blades. As he swung both arms in a cross-pulling motion, the fan-like blades returned all the shattered stones back as tribute, then the blade fan instantly folded back into the mechanism.
Sword wind roared like madness, scattering all shattered stones, severing all incoming steel, splitting everything cleanly in half - even metal was divided equally.
Zachak understood he couldn't let this disfigured man wear him down; his stamina would gradually be exhausted completely.
Shattered stones and flying knives, like a torrential rain of pear blossoms - they tore through wind and rain straight toward Zachak. Yet this still wasn't enough, as arm-mounted crossbows fired rapidly, pushing Zachak to the brink.
Fortunately, he was using mere scrap metal. If they were infused with magic energy like his own sword, the consequences were unimaginable.
He must end this quickly. Not just here - the battle line at Lavender Town must hold. He must return for reinforcement immediately. Zachak's holy pure white officer uniform blurred into an illusion as he charged forward.
Morrison wouldn't give him this opportunity, immediately drawing his whip-blade again.
Sword wind roared like madness, scattering all shattered stones, severing all incoming steel, splitting everything cleanly in half - even metal was divided equally.
Morrison's whip-blade pierced straight into a tree. Just as Zachak grew suspicious, the whip-blade exploded out from within the tree, actually attacking with a curved, cunning arc like a venomous snake biting through.
Zachak couldn't believe it. This disfigured man's techniques were bizarre beyond measure, approaching demonic wickedness. There was no prior experience to reference, making it impossible to predict attack directions.
In such situations, he couldn't gather full strength to defend.
But thanks to his abnormal reaction capabilities, he forcefully mustered less than half his strength to swing his sword and block, himself being knocked back two to three meters.
Morrison instantly retracted his whip-blade.
Just as Zachak thought Morrison would continue those bizarre arc strikes, Morrison instead withdrew the leather whip, maximizing its speed.
In merely an instant, countless crisp whip cracks exploded forth, using the heavy rain to send tens of thousands of leaves pouring down upon Zachak from above.
Compared to Zachak's flying shattered stones and mud,
These countless leaves instantly blinded Zachak's vision, while his hearing was also disrupted by the torrential rain.
Life and death hung on a fleeting moment.
But thanks to his superhuman reaction capabilities, he forcefully mustered less than half his strength to swing his sword and block, himself being knocked back two to three meters.
He backhandedly deflected the whip-blade descending from above.
Morrison had already drawn two slender short swords from his leg guards, holding one in each hand, taking advantage of the leaf-blinding effect to leap down upon Zachak with violent chops.
Just as Zachak thought Morrison would continue those bizarre arc strikes, Morrison instead withdrew the leather whip, maximizing its speed.
A ferocious smile appeared on Morrison's terrifying face. Zachak mentally signaled trouble, but it was too late to dodge. Morrison sprung a sharp blade from his sleeve, stabbing directly toward Zachak's neck.
Compared to Zachak's flying shattered stones and mud,
These countless leaves instantly blinded Zachak's vision, while his hearing was also disrupted by the torrential rain.
Zachak's neck wasn't injured; he had dodged in time. But a linear wound across his left cheek began bleeding, soon revealing a horrifying trench the thickness of a finger. Blood flowed incessantly, the red fluid quickly washed away by the heavy rain, leaving only torn flesh that would leave a permanent mark.
Morrison wasn't in a hurry. With this heavy rain, as long as he didn't let Zachak return, no one could match that monstrously powerful shark. That creature alone was an entire army.
"With skills like yours, how do you even make a living?"
Morrison held his sleeve blade in the air, letting raindrops wash away the bloodstains before retracting it. He mocked Zachak, messing with his mentality.
Truthfully, it was only Zachak - anyone else would have died a hundred times over already from Morrison's cunning killing techniques.
A ferocious smile appeared on Morrison's terrifying face. Zachak mentally signaled that things were going badly, but it was too late to dodge. Morrison sprung a sharp blade from his sleeve, stabbing directly toward Zachak's neck.
"Likewise. Your acrobatics aren't bad."
Zachak sheathed his sword, adopting a drawing stance.
"Oh?" Morrison neither confirmed nor denied. So this was the so-called disciple of the Arlan Sword King, a Lieutenant General of the Military Police. He had some skills worthy of recognition, but that was all. "In that case... I'll get slightly more serious."
A world-shaking thunderclap exploded over the horizon, instantly intensifying the wild winds and torrential rain.
Peerless killing intent assaulted them, the omen of imminent death like some soul-piercing curse spell. Extreme terror shot straight through their minds, yet there was no curse power fluctuation.
Only an ultimate, razor-sharp killing intent spreading and growing madly.
Zachak froze momentarily, finally understanding the reason for his warhorse's panic. He forcefully stabilized his mind.
"You better be ready. I plan to kill you... within ten seconds."
As Morrison finished speaking,
Was utterly astonishing.