Those three words, plain and clear, carried more weight than the most arrogant declarations.
It was like an invisible hammer, slamming into the hearts of tens of thousands of fallen people in the arena.
"He...he wants to continue?"
"A madman, a complete and utter madman! He just killed one and didn't even catch his breath?"
After a brief period of panic, some self-proclaimed experienced degenerates began to use analysis to mask their unease.
"That idiot Buck underestimated us too much."
"His 'Dust Storm Rush' is okay against newcomers, but against a speed-type opponent like him, creating dust is like digging his own grave."
A man with a scar on his chin spoke in a low voice to his companion, as if he had seen through everything.
“That’s right, the sword was fast, but Buck didn’t defend at all.”
"If it were me, I would just swing my weapon to block..." The other person stopped mid-sentence.
From the corner, a gloomy voice rang out:
"Fast? It's more than just fast."
"Didn't you see it clearly? That sword strike had absolutely no extra movements; from the moment the sword was drawn to the moment it was sheathed, it was a straight line."
“Buck wasn’t underestimating his opponent; he simply couldn’t react in time.”
Upon hearing this, the surrounding chatter subsided considerably.
Yes, that wasn't a sneak attack or a trick; it was a direct crushing defeat through sheer speed and skill.
Just then, a slender figure leaped down from the stands and landed lightly in the field, about thirty meters away from Ning Liu.
He was dressed in a tight-fitting black outfit, his figure resembling a cheetah poised to pounce. Each hand wore a pair of jet-black metal gauntlets, with five three-inch-long, gleaming blades at his fingertips, like beast claws.
As soon as he landed, people in the stands recognized him, and exclamations of surprise rose and fell.
"It's 'Ghost Claw' Moro!"
"My God, why is he off the court? Didn't he already have forty-nine wins?!"
"This is going to be good! Morrow is not like those stupid bulls like Buck. He is as fast as a ghost. No one who dies under his claws leaves a complete corpse!"
"That kid in white is in for a world of trouble!"
"Moro loves to torture and kill guys who look clean and handsome. He'll slowly peel all the flesh off the kid's body, claw by claw!"
The clamor of the crowd reached its peak once again, but this time, it was no longer a simple frenzy of bloodlust, but rather a mixture of expectation and awe for the strong.
"Ghost Claw" Moro, with a 49-game winning streak, is one of the predators at the top of the Hell's Killing Fields pyramid.
His name itself represents bloodshed and death.
Unlike Buck, Morrow didn't roar; his eyes, like those of a viper, were coldly fixed on Ning Liu.
Then, he stuck out his tongue and slowly licked his sharp metal fingertips, making a soft "sizzling" sound.
"Kid, you're pretty good."
Morrow's voice was hoarse and shrill, amplified throughout the arena by the megaphone.
"Your sword is fast, fast enough to kill that stupid pig Buck. Too bad you've met your match."
He bent down slightly, lowering his center of gravity, like a fully drawn bow.
"I'll show you that when it comes to real speed, your sword is nothing but a joke."
Before he finished speaking, Moro's figure suddenly vanished from the spot.
Without a deafening crash of his footsteps or the stirring up of dust, he simply vanished into thin air.
In the next instant, several dark figures appeared simultaneously from all directions around Ning Liu. Each figure left five black claw marks and attacked Ning Liu's vital points from different angles!
"It's 'Shadow Step'!"
"With his 'Soul-Stealing Claw' combined, this kid is dead meat!"
The gasps from the stands were filled with excitement.
This is the kind of battle they want to see: the ultimate clash of skill and speed, not a one-sided, swift defeat.
High-rise stands.
Xu Jiushi stroked his chin: "Hey, this skinny monkey looks a bit more troublesome than that big guy from before."
Titan remained as calm and composed as ever: "No matter how many tricks they have up their sleeves, I'll cut them down with one sword."
In the field.
Faced with the deadly attacks coming from all directions, Ning Liu remained standing still, without even lifting his eyelids.
He simply and gently, slowly, plunged the Asura Demon Sword in his hand into the black soil beneath his feet.
Buzz—
A soft sword rang out.
Centered on the sword, an invisible ripple spread out along the ground like water.
Those shadowy figures, moving with ghostly speed, all froze the moment they came into contact with the ripple.
Moro appeared to Ning Liu's left rear. The smugness and cruelty on his face had not yet faded, but his eyes were already filled with horror.
He found that his body felt as if it were sinking into a bottomless swamp, and every movement became incredibly sluggish and heavy.
What field is this...?
wrong!
Soul skills cannot be used here, and there is no possibility of having a domain!
Is this pure... sword intent?
A thought flashed through his mind, but there was no time for him to think it over.
Because Ning has moved.
He didn't turn around, but simply gripped the ground and pulled out the demonic sword.
He casually swung his hand behind him.
This gesture, seemingly casual.
There was no dazzling sword light, no sharp whistling sound cutting through the air.
Only a dark red afterimage flashed through the air.
The look of horror in Moro's eyes froze.
He tried his best to back away and dodge, but his body wouldn't obey him.
He could only watch helplessly as the dark red sword shadow easily sliced across his neck.
This chapter is not finished, please click the next page to continue reading!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
