Chapter 506 ·The Greatest Warrior of the Islamic World (6)

A 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󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄂chill crawled down his spine.

Talib ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂yanked his saber back and retreated a step.

Slash!

A ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂violet blade sheared through the space he'd just occupied. A blade that had formed without the slightest warning.

'He ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂got faster?'

A ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂nameless sense of dread settled over him. Before he even realized it, cold sweat was sliding down his back. Desperate to shake off the chill, he swung his saber in rapid succession as if he could cut the unease out of the air itself.

The fallout from two monsters clashing had already turned their immediate radius into a blasted wasteland. Shrapnel made of pure Force Qi was flying everywhere, forcing even the most suicidal of Allah’s fanatics to run for their lives and give them a wide berth.

And right in the eye of that storm, Il-mok looked completely serene as he swung the Ascension Sword to deflect or slip past the Force Qi Talib hurled at him.

Each time Force Qi met Soul-Annihilating Sword Thunder, the two opposing energies recoiled and convulsed against each other. They screeched and thrashed on the steel, screaming like they were begging to explode right then and there.

Honestly, it felt like gripping the leash of a rabid dog straining to run wild.

At least, it had until a moment ago.

But that’s not the case anymore.

'Stay put.'

Though this power might be a rabid beast to his enemies, it had to be a loyal hound to him.

It’s his power after all. His creation. Something that he had created and raised with full care.

It occurred to him just a moment ago that he'd been afraid of his own dog.

As absurd as that sound, that was his situation moments ago.

But Il-mok now has shaken the fear off.

Truth be told, the dread hadn't even been entirely irrational

What if the energies ran wild and killed him?

Worse, what if he mishandled the opposing forces and his allies were blown to pieces alongside him?

This lingering trace of subconscious anxiety had been deeply rooted within him.

But now, a new thought surfaced.

‘If I don't kill this man, we all die anyway.’

This was no time to worry about dying.

The battlefield was pure chaos, and every moment he spent paralyzed by his own hesitation, his allies kept dying. The very idea of buying time had been a mistake from the start.

'Kill him. End the war.'

He let the battle around him fall away and fixed every focus of his being on Talib.

And just like that, the fear of the rabid dog was gone.

Rather than wasting time fearing a hypothetical explosion, he needed to dedicate every fiber of his being to keeping up with his opponent's movements.

Then, at some point, he realized it.

Even without forcing his grip on the leash, the two opposing energies started to obey his will.

Whether it was because he'd forgotten his fear, or because his concentration had reached its absolute peak, he couldn't say.

Right then, Talib's suffocating aura tried to crush him from all sides.

Il-mok smoothly absorbed the Soul-Annihilating Sword Thunder clinging to the Ascension Sword back into himself.

A few minutes ago, he would’ve been terrified that swallowing it would blow him apart from the inside, but not anymore.

The energies were definitely still fighting each other, but they hadn't blown up yet. 

And at the end of the day, all of them were his creation.

Granted, if he’d tried a stunt like this before taming them, it would’ve bitten his hand off.

Even now, a prickling ache ran along his meridians with every pulse.

But he couldn't have cared less.

Il-mok spread his Qi outward in rippling waves to form a Domain of his own in response to Talib’s willpower.

The enlightenment he’d experienced while fighting the Old Man of the Mountain suddenly flooded back into his brain.

And a smile crept across Il-mok's lips.

He thought of the towering wall that had been barring his path. Of the monster who already lived on the other side. And of his fate if he were to fail on his ascent.

But now that he had a proper look at the towering wall, it didn't look that tall at all.

“Thanks for the help. I understand it now.”

All he had to do was study his enemy, and the crossing would take care of itself.

He devoted himself wholly to his opponent.

To how Great General Talib wielded his Qi and shaped his will.

And as naturally as breathing, Il-mok began to mimic Talib's techniques.

Their respective Domains collided in the empty air. The two forces engaged in a fierce tug-of-war, yet neither side managed to overwhelm the other completely.

Talib lunged without warning in a blur. The Domain that had been strangling the air from every side vanished, and in its place was a monstrous Qi that had condensed along his saber.

Il-mok infused his willpower into the Ascension Sword and swung it in a wide arc.

BOOM!!

The air shattered as their weapons collided, but Il-mok hadn't even used the Soul-Annihilating Sword Thunder this time.

He perfectly parried the heavy blow using only pure Demonic Qi of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword, then instantly threw a brutal left strike laden with Yin Qi.

Snap!

Talib twisted his torso at the last instant and slipped clear by a hair's breadth, then whipped his leg around by using the momentum of the twist.

Il-mok raised his own leg to meet it.

BOOM!!

A reddish Qi rippled down the length of Il-mok's blocking leg. It was the blistering Yang Qi of the Raging Demon Sword Art.

As the high-speed melee dragged on, Il-mok began flawlessly weaving his three Demonic Arts into his attacks.

He was throwing sword forms with his feet and launching palm techniques through his blade.

He’d practiced this kind of freestyle combat before, but the way it was flowing now was on a completely different level.

Three separate energies raced through his meridians without pause. There were even moments when three entirely different energies surged through the exact same meridian simultaneously.

Normally, Il-mok had to rely on his exceptional Qi perception to heavily manage the flow of his Qi to keep them from clashing with each other. When that proved insufficient, he had utilized Demonic Qi as a buffer to safely manage the three disparate energies.

Now, however,  he realized he no longer needed to.

He started routing the energy through the shortest paths available. He stopped wasting his brainpower trying to micromanage the flow.

Whenever the Yin Qi and Yang Qi crossed paths, they growled at each other for sure, but they no longer tore into each other in a frenzy.

For a while he juggled the three energies freely, and then a thought occurred to him.

One that made him want to grin.

'I wonder. Would this work too?'

Instantly, he channeled both Yin Qi and Yang Qi straight down his left arm and let them converge into the same acupoint. The instant both reached the hand, the energies split apart. One gathered into his thumb, the other into his middle finger.

He condensed the clashing energies between his two fingers and then flicked them toward Talib just like how a kid flicked a marble in a game.

Except, the marble was a nuke known as the World-Destroying Primordial Jade Palm.

If he had attempted to move them through the same pathway in the past, they would have violently repulsed each other midway and blown his arm off. Yet, he hadn't even used Demonic Qi as a buffer this time.

When that tiny marble came screaming toward him, Talib's eyes practically bugged out of his head. He clearly hadn't expected Il-mok to fire off a nuke without initiating his usual opening move.

BOOM!!!

When the explosion tore the air apart, Il-mok was already sheathing the Ascension Sword in Demonic Qi to weave a barrier of Force Qi around himself.

‘If I don't need Demonic Qi as a buffer anymore, I can simply use it as a shield.’

The moment the shockwave of the blast began to dissipate, Il-mok swung the Ascension Sword again.

SLASH!

A wave of Force Qi sliced right through the dust cloud. A moment later, Talib came bursting out of the smoke with a follow-up strike of his own.

His pristine armor was heavily scorched, and a fresh streak of blood was smeared across his cheek.

Il-mok let out a quiet laugh.

Sure, it was basically just a paper cut, but it was the first time he’d actually managed to draw blood.

Even so, he couldn't afford to get cocky. He might have finally caught up to the Great General's level, but there was still one pesky little problem.

‘I must find a way to end this before my internal energy runs dry.’

The amount of Qi he had recklessly expended during the early stages of the battle by spamming the World-Destroying Primordial Jade Palm and the Sword Thunder was substantial, and the small wounds from the opening exchanges would only become liabilities as the fight dragged on.

But strangely enough, he felt no anxiety.

He knew exactly why, too.

It was because he had a fantastic living tutorial right in front of him to teach every method he would need to kill the man.

Il-mok gathered the whole of his willpower into the tip of the Ascension Sword.

Swoosh!

He executed a concise thrust into the empty space.

In that split second, Il-mok’s intent instantly materialized right on Talib's chest.

The tip of the Ascension Sword completely ignored the physical gap between them and arrived in the perfect place and at the perfect moment as Talib was suspended in the air.

This was none other than the Mind Sword, the very technique Talib himself had displayed several times over the course of this battle.

Now, an invisible guillotine was pressing right against the Great General’s heart.

Sensing Il-mok's intent, Talib frantically whipped his saber. Even though he was slashing at thin air, the heavy feedback of steel hitting a solid object shuddered up his arm.

Talib instantly realized exactly what his opponent had just pulled off.

'He's copying my moves?'

How the hell was a wretch who hadn't even received the second blessing of God and hadn't climbed to his realm pulling this off?

The answer was staring him right in the face.

Il-mok was mimicking him.

His enemy was using him as the ladder over that towering wall.

For the first time in his entire life, Talib felt an alien emotion wash over him.

'This is absurd.'

This was an incomprehensible level of talent.

And here was the irony.

Even though he had never personally felt this emotion before, he was intimately familiar with it. Decades ago, long before anyone called him the Great General, back when he was a young prodigy growing at a monstrous pace off his own god-tier talent, this was the very same despair that engulfed every single one of his enemies right before he killed them.

Across the sprawling territory of the Muslims, Talib was undeniably the man blessed with the most martial talent.

That’s how monstrous Talib’s talent was.

And it was precisely because that talent had bloomed that he'd received two divine blessings and climbed to his present heights.

This talent was also the very reason as to why he had never once been awed by another's gift. He had never met anyone greater.

No, he had never even met anyone whose talent approached his own.

'I have to kill him. Now.'

The idea of falling back or regrouping didn't even enter his brain. That monster in front of him would only grow stronger the longer this dragged on. It was completely different from Talib, who had effectively plateaued ever since receiving the second blessing.

So before it could grow any further, it had to die here.

'By whatever means necessary.'

What he failed to recognize was this.

That very thought was the same one every enemy who had ever faced him had arrived at. And every one of them had been crushed beneath his talent and lost their life for it.

"HAAA!!"

After blocking the Mind Sword, Talib used the Sky Walk to crash down toward Il-mok.

BOOM!!

The shockwave tore through the sky as the saber and the Ascension Sword clashed against each other in a high-speed dance. 

For a time, the greatest talent of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult and the greatest talent of the Islamic world traded their martial arts in full flourish.

But right in the middle of it, a random thought popped into Il-mok's head.

'Is that all?'

He suddenly realized that there was nothing left to learn from this opponent.

Was he just supposed to be happy with this?

"Ah."

When he reached that thought, Il-mok let out a light chuckle.

Seeing that smile, Talib furrowed his brow in displeasure.

BOOM!!

Their weapons crashed together once again.

It was in the middle of this clash that the Yin Qi and Yang Qi within Il-mok’s body flooded into his left palm. Not long after, Il-mok drove his palm strike squarely into Talib's abdomen.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

The color drained from Talib's face.

Unleashing this insane technique at point-blank range, was he actually planning to take them both down?

Talib wrenched himself backward.

BOOM!!!

A colossal explosion tore his armor apart and sent the shards spinning away.

Il-mok hadn't escaped unscathed either. His already ragged clothes had been shredded away, leaving barely enough to preserve his modesty.

Il-mok lightly clicked his tongue.

"The efficiency is rather poor, huh."

He'd fired the miniature World-Destroying Primordial Jade Palm at point-blank range while simultaneously encasing his entire body in protective Force Qi laden with willpower. He’d stolen the idea from the Divine Monk, who had once used it to tank the full-powered nuke head-on. But now that he’d used it, he realized the internal energy cost far outweighed the payoff and decided to shelf if away.

Then Il-mok raised the Ascension Sword high.

Waves of Qi rippled through the steel and came down to Talib as a tsunami of Force Qi.

This one was from the Supreme Eunuch.

But Talib weathered that tsunami of Force Qi without particular difficulty.

"Hmm."

Il-mok nodded to himself, as if he'd expected as much.

This one was useful only against a crowd of weaker foes.

When he thought about it, it made sense. 

Talib, the Divine Monk, and the Supreme Eunuch were all basically at the same realm.

Just ripping off the Divine Monk or the Supreme Eunuch's moves wasn't going to be enough to put Talib in the ground.

If that’s the case, who in the world existed on a level above all three?

The answer rose to the surface of his mind immediately.

His late Master, Hyeokryeon Il-hwi.

The only problem was that Il-mok had only ever seen his Master go all-out once. And even then, he couldn’t confidently say that had been the full extent of his power.

Regardless, Il-mok replayed the memory of that day in his mind.

He recalled the sight of his Master crushing hundreds of enemy soldiers into the dirt with the Heavenly Demon Sovereign Stride while simultaneously killing the enemy’s general using a flying sword.

If he were to use the Heavenly Demon Sovereign Stride and the flying sword at once...

‘That won’t work. Just spreading my intent around won't work on Talib, so it’s better for me to go with the Mind Sword.’

With the conclusion crystallized, Il-mok hurled the Ascension Sword straight at Talib.

Coated in a blazing Force Qi, the Ascension Sword streaked toward its target.

Up until today, Il-mok had only been able to use the Hand-Controlled Sword, which meant he had to physically wave his hands around to steer the blade.

But now, he was executing his telekinetic swordsmanship via the Mind-Controlled Sword as casually as breathing.

But while actively hounding Talib with the flying sword, one problem dawned on him.

He needed to execute the Mind Sword, but he no longer had a sword to swing.

Heh.

What did it matter?

He quickly realized how irrelevant that was. 

He had long since transcended the rigid confines of traditional martial forms.

If he wished, he could reshape the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword into fists or leg techniques

So even as he drove the flying sword onward, Il-mok settled into a straight-punch stance.

While a portion of willpower remained tethered to the flying Ascension Sword, he had to vividly visualize the sensation of thrusting a sword that no longer rested in his hands.

As soon as the Ascension Sword and Talib's saber collided—

BOOM!!

Using the distraction, Il-mok threw a straight punch at the empty air with all of his might.

The sword formed from his fist ignored the distance in reality and instantly materialized right in front of Talib’s heart.

CRUNCH!!

The last surviving pieces of Talib's ruined armor shattered, and a bright spray of blood sprayed into the sky.

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