Orman’s abilities were far more complex than Xuefei had imagined.
Though that punch hadn’t landed, she was certain it wouldn’t have caused any real damage even if it had. This man was far more terrifying than he appeared on the surface, and all the power he’d shown so far was merely the tiny tip of a colossal iceberg breaking the waves.
Just moments ago, Xuefei had formed her hypotheses.
This guy likely possessed one of the following: a powerful barrier for defense, the ability to redirect attacks, the power to shift weapons mid-strike, or perhaps even an invisible barrier constantly shielding him.
The good news, based on the current situation, was that Xuefei had guessed correctly…
The bad news was that she’d guessed everything correctly!
He could redirect and distribute damage, and on top of that, there was a protective shield surrounding Orman—one she couldn’t even glimpse—that was worthy of the name “Wall of Sighs”!
Her earlier attack had merely brought his utterly unreasonable combat prowess into sharp, immediate focus.
Xuefei glanced back toward the distant ruins. Once she confirmed that Laer had carried away those two pitiful elves who worried her so much, she let out a sigh.
“What a monster,” Xuefei said with helpless exasperation.
“Being called a monster by a monster is a great honor.”
“!!”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Orman closed in on Xuefei at blinding speed.
Normally, certain swordsmen would hold back their full strength to create illusions and misjudgments in their opponents, exploiting the gap with their true power to throw off their foes.
But Orman was taking it to an absurd extreme!
With no chance to dodge, Xuefei raised both hands to block. Yet instead of striking her with the Holy Sword, he drove it deep into the ground.
“And what countermeasures do you have for this?”
In an instant, Xuefei felt as if she were adrift on a churning sea of waves.
Dazed by the flash of golden light, she realized the earth itself had been torn open.
She remembered how Leia used to tease her by grabbing one corner of the blanket and shaking it up and down. All those shiny little toys and stones piled at the bedside would tumble wildly in the rippling fabric—and Xuefei’s current predicament was even worse by comparison.
Because when she looked down, she saw a vast expanse of clouds, shredded and pulverized below her.
Only then did she notice the sky filled with shattered boulders, flung upward like a child hurling handfuls of gravel, hurling the very ground beneath her feet into the heavens. A single strike had reshaped the structure of the Camiran Continent.
Damn it…
There was still one person who hadn’t escaped.
But for now, there was no need to worry.
“Since you’re so eager to see my trump card, then go all out just like me.”
Hearing the voice, Xuefei dropped to one knee on the slab beneath her, pressing a hand to the ground for support—though it offered no sense of security whatsoever. In her line of sight appeared a golden-haired man standing steadily atop a stone block rising parallel to her own. He vanished moments later behind a cluster of flying debris.
“Damn it, I really didn’t want to draw my sword.”
Xuefei sighed.
But compromise was necessary. From the Subspace, she drew a sword of pure violet. Its mirror-polished blade was breathtakingly beautiful, and a purple gem gleamed at the juncture of hilt and edge.
It had been forged from an old scale she’d shed before giving birth to her child. The only drawback was that this scale lacked a soul or any spark of life. Though its hardness and sharpness were unmatched, the feel of it in her hand fell just short of the Holy Sword.
Xuefei could vaguely make out the Ice and Snow Castle underground, now excavated and exposed. The grounds of the Royal Palace could no longer be described merely as a heartbreaking sight.
“I’ll be counting on you this time. I was planning to keep you buried as a collectible.”
“That’s right, just like that…”
The moment she drew her sword, Orman leaped toward her, slashing down with a mighty stroke.
Against a powerhouse of the Dragon Clan like Xuefei, no swordsman would waste time on sword qi—A direct chop with the Holy Sword was far superior. That was common knowledge among all swordsmen, though not every one of them could infuse their strikes with such outrageous magical sword qi.
After blocking the blow, Xuefei was sent tumbling downward, very much on the defensive. But worse than plummeting three hundred meters through a storm of rubble was the itch in her hands.
Orman’s sword was special.
It looked like an ordinary blade, yet it inflicted wounds that defied common sense far beyond the merely visual… enough to make even her scales quiver faintly. Had she not been a dragon, that single strike would have left her hands a mangled ruin.
“Dark Dragon Soul.”
The physique of the Dragon Clan stood at the pinnacle across all planes—immortality merely one of its most basic traits.
Xuefei’s “Dark Dragon Soul” granted her a perfect body, one that surpassed even the all-piercing gaze of “Omni-Vision.”
If she relied solely on the Evil Dragon’s advantages, how could she possibly speak of victory in this battle?
Several more clashes of sword techniques followed. Xuefei leaped from stone to stone, using the scattered debris as footholds. She darted back and forth between them at blinding speed, and amid the flurry of flashing blades, she finally landed a successful counterattack.
But when her sword struck Orman’s body, something strange happened once again.
It felt just like smacking a sofa with a wooden stick—no real sense of impact or damage whatsoever. If that slash’s power had been unleashed on a mountain instead, the entire peak would have crumbled to dust in an instant.
“Did you see that?”
The moment Orman’s sword clashed against the Dragon Scale in counterattack, Xuefei twisted her body midair. Using his frame as a pivot, she spun and leaped to a nearby floating stone.
Up to that point, the stones Orman had sent flying were only just beginning their descent, plummeting like a meteor shower.
Truth be told, Xuefei hadn’t gotten a clear look at what that layer of defense coating Orman’s body actually was.
The only thing she knew for sure was this: unless she could break it down, this battle was a foregone conclusion—a total defeat.
“What’s your name? I want to know.”
“I’m under no obligation to tell you, am I?”
“Is that so? Then I’ll call you Miss Evil Dragon for now. Miss, I’m disappointed in you. You’re strong, to be sure, but you fall far short of my expectations—or my ideals. The Winter Queen included, you’re all weaklings. Weaklings in need of ‘growth.’”
“…One only fears the sunset after witnessing the night.”
Xuefei didn’t quite grasp the meaning behind Orman’s words at first.
But she did understand one thing: from the very start, he had been fighting her with a playful attitude, toying with her like a game. Now, however, it seemed he planned to go all out and end it.
“I truly admire your ‘growth.’ The despair in your eyes is no less profound than in most people. But in the end, it’s not ‘metamorphosis.’”
“Only after ‘metamorphosis’ can you become a true powerhouse. Do you understand, Miss Evil Dragon?”
“Then let me show you. Witness the grandeur of power born from true ‘metamorphosis.’”
“‘Formless Radiance.’”
Orman’s outward appearance didn’t change in the slightest.
And yet, it was that utterly expressionless face that proved the most shocking.
Xuefei could see it plainly: his magic had simply and brutally amplified his strength by three—no, five times over…
No flashy maneuvers. This man embodied pure, overwhelming power.
