Chapter 29: Concentrated

When Asa saw Yabin escorting Talice out, he already had a vague idea of what was going on.

A reckless and overly righteous person would never become a companion of Knight Tamik; they would only be a hindrance. And someone like Knight Tamik would never tolerate such a hindrance, so Talice's current state wasn't surprising.

As for Yabin, this clever and agile young man with good judgment might have managed to get close to Knight Tamik. But the key was that Asa knew Yabin would seize the opportunity to save Talice in such a situation. When the time came, it wouldn't be Asa who was unsettled, but Knight Tamik.

Sure enough, as soon as Knight Tamik finished speaking and raised his blade, Yabin's sword struck out, and he pulled Talice back swiftly.

This was the opportunity Asa had been waiting for. If he wanted to break free from this trap, he had to take advantage of the moment when Knight Tamik would be caught off guard. So, he leaped into the air with all his strength.

But the moment he jumped, he realized he was wrong. This wasn't the opportunity he had anticipated; it was a trap deliberately set for him.

This scheme wasn't just aimed at him—it also included Yabin. Almost simultaneously with Yabin's move, the other holy warrior standing behind him swung his sword at Yabin's back.

Asa instantly drew his blade and hurled it at the warrior. The fight spirit on the blade didn't pierce through but instead sent the warrior flying. However, the sword still struck Yabin. At the same time, Knight Tamik's longsword flashed, and Yabin's arm was severed.

Asa's heart sank. He knew he might have completely fallen into the enemy's trap. At the very least, he had no choice but to throw his blade. His mind was also in disarray, realizing that his actions had been anticipated all along.

As his body passed through the air, it brushed against some spiderweb-like threads, triggering lightning bolts and fireballs from three or four different directions, slamming him back to the ground. The moment he landed, the surging magical wave around him made it clear that he had triggered other magical traps. He had no choice but to charge forward, pushing through with sheer force.

He now understood that the pool of blood concealed nineteen different magical traps, all linked together in a peculiar way. When he triggered one by landing, the other eighteen erupted simultaneously, each unleashing its magic at him from different angles, in different ways, and at different intervals.

Flames hot enough to melt steel swirled around him, seeking any gap to turn his flesh into charcoal. Earth spikes, conjured and hardened to the consistency of rock, slammed into his body, their tips shattering against his fight spirit. Lightning bolts danced wildly across the surface of his fight spirit protection.

Even wilder than these magical elements was the fight spirit surging within his body. This life force was desperately pouring outward, and he could almost feel his flesh and vitality erupting alongside it. This was a true life-or-death struggle—because without fighting, there would be no life left. He charged forward through the raging storm, a force that could turn others into mere scraps of flesh. He pushed through, breaking through flames, shattering earth spikes, and forcing away lightning strikes, carving out a path in this ocean of magic with sheer force alone.

And then, he finally broke through. The fight spirit surrounding him extinguished, and the ocean of magical explosions behind him faded like a fleeting illusion.

Having forced his way out of this magical trap, Asa was certain that, in those brief moments, his strength had been comparable to Gru's. Regardless of the current situation, a fleeting sense of pride and satisfaction surfaced in his heart.

But it was only a fleeting feeling. The moment he broke free, the black longsword greeted him with an eager welcome.

The fight spirit and momentum that had been comparable to Grutt's earlier were the result of Asa almost self-harming by unleashing his fight spirit wildly. Now, his muscles and energy had reached their lowest point, and this strike was aimed precisely at this moment. The longsword was as fast as lightning, as fierce as thunder. The howling and dark fluctuations from the blade merged perfectly with the momentum of the strike, resembling a hundred famished, century-old evil spirits converging into a swarm.

This strike could have been even faster, stronger, and more unstoppable, but Knight Tamik hadn't expected Yabin to act first. Yabin had ignored the blade aimed at him, sacrificing an arm to stab Knight Tamik. Though it wasn't a serious injury, it disrupted his focus and prevented him from gathering his full strength for what should have been a fatal blow.

But even so, it seemed enough. While Knight Tamik hadn't fully concentrated, Asa had no energy left to focus.

A green fireball appeared in Asa's palm and flew toward Tamik Knight. However, as soon as the fireball touched the swirling blade aura, killing intent, and murderous energy, it immediately disappeared without a sound, being devoured. The dark aura filling the sky, evolved from the combination of necromantic magic and the sword's edge, was not an illusion. It was truly capable of shredding, consuming, and annihilating everything in its path.

Asa had no choice but to throw himself sideways, using all his strength to block the incoming tide of vengeful spirits and demons with his bare hands. He knew this blade couldn't be stopped empty-handed, but his blade was gone, his fight spirit exhausted, and his instant magic useless. All he had left were his hands, and he had to use them.

The attack couldn't be blocked, but if it couldn't be blocked, then only death awaited—a death with no room for evasion. The long-forgotten scent of death made every nerve in his body scream, letting out a howl that had not been heard in a long time. Meditation was activated with all his might, and every thought contracted into a single point in his mind. Except for the blade before him, the entire world became empty.

With the world empty, he could see what he needed to see.

The speed of the blade brought with it force, the force generated momentum, the momentum created changes, and those changes led to an unavoidable angle of attack. All these factors were wrapped in an overwhelming aura of killing intent, becoming a single, unified force. From this, he could clearly see every movement of the knight who wielded the blade, even hearing the faint hum from the trembling blade, indicating the tension in Tamik's muscles as he swung the sword.

As Asa's hands came together, he trapped the longsword between his palms. No matter how intense or overwhelming the killing intent and momentum unleashed by the strike were, in the end, it was just a sword.

But trapping it didn't mean he had stopped it. Just like a loaf of bread in the path of an axe's swing doesn't mean the bread can withstand the blow. Asa could feel, with shocking clarity, that under the fierce blade energy, the flesh of his hands was like bread soaked in water—one touch and it would crumble, disintegrate, and splatter apart. But the damage wasn't just superficial. The necromantic curse that had fused with the blade's force was surging into his body, overwhelming him. His hand's muscles and flesh withered instantly, dying on contact. If it weren't for his own powerful necromancy and white magic, which could resist, this curse alone could have killed him a hundred times over.

With one stepping forward and one stepping back, the two figures merged into a single streak, filled with a sky of black shadows and killing intent, flying swiftly into the distance.

This retreat was one with no further retreat possible. Asa's figure was fully enveloped by the blade's presence. Branches, leaves, and the grass and plants on the ground were all swept up by the overflowing blade aura and the power of the curse, turning into gray, crumbling ashes that scattered down.

As the person retreated, the blade continued its advance. However, due to the motion of retreat, it shifted from a slashing cut to a thrust. The slight resistance on the palm was utterly insignificant. With a soft "pff," the blade effortlessly pierced the body. Muscles, ribs, and internal organs were like paper under the force and lethality of the strike. Before the blade even truly made contact, they were shattered and shot out from the opposite side of the body. The blade entered the right chest and exited through the rear shoulder, creating a hole the size of a fist in Asa's body.

With a loud crash, a massive tree behind Asa shattered into pieces, and wood splinters filled the air like a torrential downpour of timber. The second tree in line was also sliced in half at the trunk. Only then did the blade's qi, the sword energy, and the magic power that had penetrated Asa's body fully dissipate.

Knight Tamik was somewhat stunned. The power of this strike shouldn't have been like this. The excess force that followed should not have had such destructive power. Nearly nine-tenths of the energy passed through the opponent's body, smashing the trees behind him into pieces. The damage to the opponent should have been caused by just a bit more of that power. The wound inflicted on the opponent's body should have been at least three times larger and deeper. Moreover, the death magic energy should have seeped into the body, shattering not only his physical muscles and magic aura but also his entire magical and martial force.

He quickly realized that while Asa's hands had no fight spirit left and couldn't significantly alter the blade's trajectory, they weren't entirely powerless. As the skin and flesh of his hands were torn apart and his bones fractured, some minuscule force still influenced the blade.

This force was tiny, like a drop of water compared to a big river, but it wasn't a hindrance—it merged with the blade's power. This drop first influenced a dozen other drops, which in turn influenced hundreds more, eventually affecting the entire river. This caused the blade's force to become more concentrated.