Spirit Immortal

While Meijing Xuenkai was busy having his mid-life crisis, on the other side of the battlefield, another Spirit Venerate had made their move. Guardian Sword had a fixed amount of cultivators. Though they were all talented as can be, they were most certainly on the younger side. Shin had gathered the best and brightest from all corners of the world in the hopes of developing them into experts that could stand toe-to-toe with the Black Masks. Therefore, Shin hadn’t taken in many Spirit Emperors, or Spirit Venerates into his ranks.

Some of Guardian Sword’s members were still in their twenties! So, it was natural for some of the Black Masks’ elites to feel offended to fight against them, particularly since some of them were nearing their second century of battle experience.

"Fighting against kids... I don’t know how I feel about that." A fully armoured knight lazily walked across the sandy desert, not at all interested in his younger opponents. "I’d thought that I could at least face that Tier 9 Spirit Beast but Xuenkai already beat me to it... Lady Seph isn’t particularly a good opponent for me either."

"Are you looking down on us?" Unable to bear the knight’s monologue anymore, Isadore bit his lower lip and complained.

"Look down on you?" The knight scoffed. "I don’t even know who you are, why should I even look at you?"

"..." Isadore’s face turned a little sour. However, he had no words to retort the armoured knight. Seymour Fielder, also commonly known to the outside world as the Sword Baron. He was a legend decades before Isadore was even born. In close combat, few could top the former general of the Kori Federation. In fact, in any kind of combat, the Sword Baron could easily trump over his opponents.

It was only natural for the Sword Baron to look down on Isadore, a brat that was over two centuries his junior. He folded his arms, not at all, reaching towards his sword’s handle to unsheathe his blade.

Isadore snorted and spun his wrist. Spiritual energy trickled out from his outreached palm, and it slowly congregated into a singular sharp object. Isadore wasn’t blessed with the power to manipulate elemental energies since birth, so the Himmel Ancestor’s heir could freely use his Spirit, unlike his fellow compatriots.

"Elrin, support me." The silver-haired man commanded.

"Okay!" Elrin raised her brows but didn’t question Isadore’s judgement. She wasn’t going to voice out the vast disparity between the Sword Baron and Isadore. She wasn’t going to say how stupid it was to challenge a man that was superior in battle experience, cultivation level and strength. She wasn’t going to tell Isadore that even with her boost, there was no guarantee that he could beat a Rank 80 Spirit Venerate while he was just a Rank 60 Spirit King.

Elrin knew Isadore. They had fought alongside one another for decades now. If Isadore wanted to fight, all Elrin could do... was trust that he could win.

"I’ll try to minimise the leakage, but there’s no way for me to boost you to a hundred percent."

"How much then?"

"Seventy should be a conservative estimate." Elrin did the math in her head and gave a rough estimate. The Rosary of Eternity was flashing in her palms as droplets of elemental energies leaked from its core and flowed naturally towards the Paradise Heart in the middle of the Payirci.

"Seventy is more than enough," Isadore beamed. He swung the Spear of Himmel, slowly undoing the chains that bound its tip. And just like that... the flag which hid within the transcendental spear broke free of its restraints, and it waved in defiance to the winds generated by Shin and Ao’s battle.

Seeing her cue, Elrin immediately sent a few beads flying Isadore’s way and forced them onto his wrists and ankles. At the same time, a holy light flowed straight from the top-tier support into Isadore’s robust body. Overwhelming with both spiritual energy and power, hair all over Isadore’s body sprung into life as more holy light beamed out from the waving Himmel flag.

Watching all of this unfold, for the first time, the Brahmin Knight felt a little unsettled. That puny Spirit King that laid before him was suddenly displaying the pressure of a Spirit Emperor after a few seconds. Not only that, but his instincts were also screaming out at him.

’That flag... It’s dangerous.’ The Sword Baron’s eyes twitched. He was a seasoned fighter that charged into combat thousands of times. Through that, Seymour had developed a sensitivity to each of his opponent’s level. Whether it was an enemy that was far superior, weaker or at the same level, the Sword Baron could tell with just a glance. That’s why he was so confident when Isadore was still showing the level of a mere Spirit King.

The current Isadore, on the other hand...

’He’s not an opponent that I can relax on,’ Seymour instantly deduced. The Sword Baron reached towards his sword handle with his metallic gloves safely attached to his palms. If Isadore was truly a threat, it was better to cut him down with a claymore before it was too late.

Alas...

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

A crystal arrow darted across the sky like a shooting star. It was moving at a speed that even the Sword Baron could only emulate if he was under the influence of a top-tier Spirit Armament. Shocked, the Brahmin could only release his grip on the handle and turn away with an angered roar.

The icy arrow grazed the Sword Baron’s backhand which was just milliseconds away from pulling out his sword. Seymour glanced down, only to see his armoured gloves torn with a singular line on its back. If he had pulled out just a fraction of a second later, there was no doubt in his mind that his hand would have been incapacitated.

’Who in hell-?!’

The Sword Baron traced the trajectory of the arrow, desperate to find the identity of the sniper. Fighting against Isadore was going to be troublesome enough, but if there was a sniper mixed within his foes... It was going to be a frustrating fight, to say the least.

However, before Seymour could even turn his head ninety degrees, a silver light charged right towards him. Forced to react, the Sword Baron could only spin his waist to dodge the incoming danger, and just like the arrow before... It just barely missed him.

"... Sneak attacks aren’t the way of the warrior."

"Like the way of the warrior means anything in a battle to the death." Isadore scoffed, swinging the Spear of Himmel down and forcing the Sword Baron to retreat far away. However, as he skipped about fifty metres away, yet another spearman came crashing down from the sky.

"Annoying!" This time, the Sword Baron was able to get a hold of his blade. With a single breath, the Brahmin mana strengthened his entire body, added some of his mana into the claymore spiritual armament, unsheathed that sharp sword and swung it with all his might. There was no running away. In a mere split second, the Sword Baron cut the spearman’s torso in two.

In any other circ.u.mstances, the Sword Baron would have moved away and attacked Isadore right away. However, the spearman that attacked Seymour didn’t stop moving after it was sliced apart. As its upper body was falling down, its spear fell upon the Sword Baron as it aimed towards his neck. In a fit of pure reflex, Seymour swung his claymore, parrying the spear away with relative ease.

"... What?" Seymour stared at the spearman as it reassembled its torn parts back together. The spearman looked human, but it lacked the expression to match. It was a little see-through and had a ghostly aspect to its appearance. Therefore, it didn’t take long for the Sword Baron to come up with an answer to that odd phenomenon. "Astral soldiers?"

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