svetikya Chapter 66 The Sword Saint and the Asura Field of the Supreme
Chapter 66 The Sword Saint and the Asura Field of the Supreme
"Arthur!"
A light, almost joyful voice rang out.
Sajō Aika, holding Sajō Ayaka's hand, ran happily down from the high platform that originally symbolized the "core of the stronghold" of the Reirō-kan family head.
The white dress looked exceptionally innocent in the morning light, her long golden hair rose and fell gently as she ran, and she held a red rose picked from the workshop's greenhouse in her hand.
She seemed completely oblivious to the intense killing intent surrounding her, just like an ordinary girl welcoming someone home in a garden.
Ayaka followed behind her, her steps not as light as her sister's. Her face was still somewhat pale, and her fingers were still clutching the hem of her skirt as she ran down the steps.
But the moment she saw Arthur, saw his armor intact, and saw the dragon eyes in his eyes still bright, her fingers, which were gripping the hem of her skirt, finally loosened.
"Are you alright?" Arthur stepped forward quickly, his dragon eyes scanning the two of them rapidly.
There was no residual magic, no sign of being bound, and although Ayaka's hands were trembling slightly, her body temperature was normal.
After confirming that they were not injured and that the surrounding magic array was not suppressing them, the golden light in Arthur's eyes dimmed slightly.
"It's perfectly fine." Aige walked up to Arthur with a smile, naturally reaching out to straighten his slightly disheveled cloak collar.
"The head of the household and the witch here are very hospitable. They've been chatting with us while we wait for the prince to return, haven't they, Miss Misaya?"
Misaya Reiryukan, standing not far away, almost ground her teeth to powder.
Her once proud demeanor was already crumbling amidst Ai Ge's "casual chatter."
Every time Aika calls her "Miss Misaya" with a smile, it's a reminder to her:
Your family, your workshop, your servants—to me they are nothing more than living room decorations awaiting Arthur's return.
Misaya gripped the scepter tightly; the gem at the tip of the scepter was dull and lifeless.
She could only force a cold snort when Aigo's gaze swept over her.
After confirming that the two were safe, Arthur turned around.
His gaze sharpened once more, sweeping across the hall. Cú Chulainn stood before Misaya, his crimson spear held horizontally at his waist, its tip slightly upturned.
Medea stood in the corner, her staff trembling slightly in her hand. The head of the Linglong Pavilion remained frozen beside the high-backed chair, cold sweat dripping from his forehead down his chin and into his collar.
"Now that their safety has been confirmed..."
Arthur took a step forward, placing his right hand on the hilt of the sword in the lake, the blade emitting a very faint hum in its sheath.
"Then, Lancer, Caster, this war that has lasted too long should come to an end."
"Ha, that's some infuriating confidence, junior brother."
Cú Chulainn lowered his stance again, his crimson spear gleaming a chilling blood-red hue in the morning light.
"Although I know you're a monster, if I admit defeat here, the old woman from the Land of Shadows will probably crawl out of her grave to settle the score with me."
Medea, standing behind, let out a chilling laugh.
The staff in her hand frantically gathered purple divine lightning, and the crystal at the tip of the staff emitted a piercing hum as it was infused with magic.
"Arthur Pendragon, don't think that just because you've defeated Hercules you can do whatever you want here!"
"This is my territory! Except for that woman..." Her angry gaze swept over Aige, then she looked away with resentment.
"Within my divine magical realm, you are nothing but a prey to be slaughtered..."
"Too slow."
Before Arthur could finish speaking, he had already vanished from the spot.
The entire workshop was instantly engulfed in a magical storm.
Arthur didn't use any special artifacts at all; he simply used the terrifying explosive power provided by the furnace core to create countless golden afterimages in the space.
Cú Chulainn's spear transformed into countless red dots, attempting to block Arthur's movements, but every swing of Arthur's sword carried an almost savage impact.
Even the "Protection Against Arrows" technique proved inadequate against such overwhelming sword pressure.
"Bang!"
Arthur delivered a powerful slash, and the sword in the lake collided head-on with the crimson magic spear—a pure clash of "force."
The golden dragon power of the Dragon's Furnace collided with the crimson magic spear of Cú Chulainn's demigod bloodline, and the resulting shockwave shattered the precious magical instruments around them into dust.
The crystal ball shattered into pieces, ether splashed and evaporated, and even the defensive runes on the walls, reinforced by successive patriarchs, were shaken and flickered.
Cú Chulainn was forced back more than ten steps by the blow, each step leaving a deep crater in the stone slab, his hand split open, and blood flowed down the shaft of his spear.
"That woman's 'Divine Age Magic' had absolutely no effect on him?!"
Misaya was horrified to discover from behind that Medea had unleashed divine lightning powerful enough to pierce through mountains.
It was actually devoured and disintegrated by Arthur's dragon magic, which was as deep as the ocean.
The golden flames emanating from the Dragon Furnace within Arthur's body directly decomposed, absorbed, and transformed the magic power within the lightning into his own dragon power, replenishing the furnace core.
Arthur's Dragon Hearth is the fire that Merry retrieved from the deepest part of the Avalon Dragon Vein.
Its essence is "geothermal energy of the planet," and the lightning from the Age of Gods striking the planet is not even a tickle.
This is no longer a contest of skill, but a complete and utter crushing defeat at the level of mystery.
"Caster, your schemes end here."
Arthur executed an elegant spin in mid-air, dodging Cú Chulainn's deadly stab from the flank.
His body spun halfway around the moment the spear tip grazed the edge of his cloak, and the Lake Sword swept horizontally, the power of the Wind King's Barrier exploding on the sword.
The resulting shockwave forcibly blasted Cú Chulainn away from the center of the battlefield.
The spearman tumbled twice in the air before landing on a stone pillar at the edge of the workshop, his feet carving two shallow furrows in the pillar before he regained his footing.
Then, Arthur appeared in front of Medea as if by teleportation.
Medea's golden pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints.
She attempted to initiate a spatial teleportation, her fingers already forming the spell, magic beginning to weave, and spatial coordinates locking onto the backup position outside the workshop.
But under Arthur's all-seeing dark gold dragon eyes, all the logic of the spell collapsed on its own in an instant.
The dark golden light deep within the dragon's eyes pierced directly through the outer shell of the spell, dismantling the woven magical circuits from the inside out.
Arthur raised the Holy Sword high, the golden sword engraved with the brilliance of stars, which emitted a gentle yet unassailable light in the morning glow.
That was holy light, enough to sever all curses.
"Since you are unwilling to leave voluntarily, then I will see you off on your behalf."
The holy sword sliced through the air, creating a perfect arc, and aimed directly at Medea's spiritual core.
Just as the blade of the holy sword was about to touch Medea's cloak!
A silver light, so light and silent yet so fast it defied cause and effect, pierced through the shadows from the side without warning.
The moment the blade gleamed in the morning light, its tip touched the spine of the sword in the lake; time itself seemed to be distorted in that instant.
The swallows cut off the light.
Clang—!
It was an extremely crisp metallic clang, and an unusually shaped nodachi was precisely positioned in the path the holy sword was bound to take.
The tip of the blade touched the side of the sword's spine with extremely light and skillful force, deflecting the holy sword's trajectory by less than half an inch.
Amidst the sparks, a refined-looking man dressed in a navy blue kimono slowly stepped out of the shadows.
Kojiro Sasaki.
His calm face held a hint of pleasure from meeting a worthy opponent, his lips slightly upturned, and the golden light of the sword in the lake reflected in his slender eyes.
"To carry out such a brutal killing on such a beautiful morning is not the act of a gentleman, although I have little interest in this Holy Grail War..."
With a slight twist of his wrist, he changed the longsword from parrying to holding it horizontally, the tip of the blade aimed at Arthur's sword tip.
"But if it's to stop this earth-shattering sword strike... then the trip will not be in vain."
Arthur steadied his sword, his dragon eyes piercing through the morning light, landing on the wild katana.
The blade was almost twice as long as a regular katana, which would normally make it difficult to wield effectively in this cramped room.
That knife couldn't possibly have been swung from that angle from a physical standpoint, but it just happened to be there.
This is a sword technique honed by a mortal man who peered into the realm of magic, spending his entire life for the sole purpose of slaying a single swallow.
"Sasaki Kojiro," Arthur said calmly, "are you also joining this boring defense line?"
"No, I've only come to seek answers." Kojiro raised his longsword slightly.
In this cramped room, the tip of his knife merely swayed slightly, subtly blocking all of Arthur's possible attack routes.
"Your Highness, the prince with the sword, you said on the street that the sword wasn't long enough to kill people, but to reach something."
I've thought about this for a long time, and today I want to ask you... I wonder if my "Return of the Swallow" can leave even the slightest trace in your eyes?
The battlefield fell silent once more. Cú Chulainn was panting, but his eyes were smiling. He loved watching this duel, a pure dialogue between swords.
Medea stood frozen a few steps in front of Arthur, her fingers still forming the unfinished spell.
In their despair, Misaya and her father searched for a last glimmer of hope, only to find that all hope had been driven out of its way by the light of the sword and blade.
Meanwhile, Aika squinted at the sudden obstacle not far away, her fingertips lightly tapping Ayaka's hand.
"Looks like it's not time for breakfast yet."
Ai-ka chuckled softly, her voice still sweet, but Ayaka detected a fleeting hint of annoyance at the intrusion in her sister's tone.