Chapter 890: Overthinking It
Hubert cursed under his breath as he climbed out of the rubble, his skin flushed crimson, white steam rising from his head, and his eyes nearly bloodshot. Gripping Slaughter, he charged forward once again.
Blood-red energy swirled around Hubert, his aura surging rapidly. With a single step, the ground beneath him collapsed into a deep pit, rumbling like an earthquake, and his body vanished in an instant.
Slaughter swept up waves of white energy, spiraling with seemingly endless power, as if it could tear the sky itself apart and bring it crashing down.
The Rock gripped his massive warhammer with both hands, twisting his waist as scarlet battle qi covered his body. The air within three or four meters around him seemed crushed, unable to move at all.
The massive warhammer and Slaughter collided once again, terrifying waves of white energy mixed with lightning flashing between them. Blood-red violent energy whipped into a whirlwind, smashing fiercely against The Rock’s scarlet battle qi.
For a full three seconds, the force at their point of impact was relentlessly compressed, exploding into a ball of black light. Hubert and The Rock were blasted backwards, leaving only blurred afterimages in their wake.
The Rock roared, scarlet battle qi swirling madly around him. He hunched his waist, anchoring himself like a nail driven into the earth. His legs plowed a trench over ten meters long, and by the end, half his body was buried in the ground.
Hubert, meanwhile, tumbled across the ground like a shattered stone, his body carving out a massive trench nearly thirty meters long. He looked utterly miserable, but after stopping, he spat out a mouthful of dirt, eyes still burning red, and crawled out, howling as he charged again. The blood-red energy around him now blazed like fire.
A second later, their bodies collided once more. Hubert, eyes red and wild, swung Slaughter with crazed abandon.
The Rock's face darkened, veins bulging on his arms as he swung his warhammer in a blur of afterimages, clashing madly with Hubert.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The deafening sound of their clash echoed like gods and demons beating war drums. The ground within a hundred meters trembled violently, as massive stones shattered into fragments, which hovered in midair, unable to fall.
From afar, the hundred-meter radius around them seemed to lose gravity, with shards of stone drifting toward the sky and large rocks crushed to powder.
The air around them was forcibly expelled by sheer power, a white sonic boom cloud enveloping the area, blinding lightning wrapping their bodies within.
The thunderous roar persisted for over ten seconds, until a figure shot out from the lightning-shrouded white sonic boom cloud.
Even to the naked eye, three ghostly afterimages of warhammers slammed into the flying figure.
After flying more than ten meters, the figure suddenly stopped—it was Hubert.
Hubert's face twisted with ferocity, his skin seeming to ignite as his left hand plunged into the earth to slow his flight, his right hand gripping Slaughter, blood-red energy swirling around him, accompanied by faint dragon roars.
Roar...
With a furious roar, Hubert’s aura suddenly surged. The blood-red energy swirling around him coalesced into a ferocious dragon’s head, which let out a roar before plunging into Hubert’s body.
The next moment, Hubert’s body vanished, and the earth groaned in agony as a massive pit appeared where he stood.
He broke through!
Six-Rank Sword Saint!
"Damn bastard! How dare you treat the great Lord Hubert like this? Unforgivable! You’re finished—even Lord Merlin can’t save you now!"
Hubert roared and charged again, Slaughter a blur in his hand, crackling with lightning as he smashed it toward The Rock.
The Rock’s face turned pale, his scarlet battle qi no longer at its peak. He stared at Hubert in disbelief, unable to comprehend how Hubert’s body could be so strong.
Even the mightiest warriors of the Furyflame royal clan wouldn’t dare take a direct hit from his warhammer; even the tough Kodo beasts would be killed with one blow. Yet now, he faced a freak he couldn’t kill—no, one he couldn’t even hurt.
Slaughter and the warhammer continued to clash, but this time Hubert didn’t retreat. For four or five seconds, they collided furiously, a storm raging at the center of the battlefield, with both men standing in its eye.
Suddenly, a sharp crack rang out, and The Rock’s expression changed completely.
A tiny crack appeared on his warhammer, and in an instant, it spread like poison, consuming the entire weapon.
Bang...
With a crisp thud, his warhammer shattered into pieces, while Hubert’s Slaughter mercilessly swung down once more.
Bang...
Slaughter smashed into The Rock’s arm, a series of bone-crunching cracks resounding, as The Rock screamed and was hurled backwards.
Suddenly, the massive white storm was ripped open, and The Rock, trailing blood, was sent flying.
Hubert, eyes blazing, followed close behind, swinging Slaughter again and again, relentlessly driving The Rock into the ground.
After three or four seconds, The Rock’s body was nowhere to be seen. The ground within ten meters was ravaged like by a giant beast, and within a hundred meters, not a single fragment larger than a fingernail remained.
Hubert spat forcefully, rubbed the clear hammer mark on his shoulder, and grinned with pride.
"Idiot! You think you can go toe-to-toe with Lord Hubert? Don’t you know Slaughter was custom-made by the great Lord Merlin? Merlin himself said you’d be hard-pressed to find a weapon tougher than Slaughter in all of Northend. Damn, my whole body aches, but one hit from me and you’re finished! Hahaha…"
Hubert stroked Slaughter, his heart full of joy as if seeing his first love, then grinned and jogged back.
"Lord Merlin, I’ve taken care of that guy, but I’m seriously injured. Could you spare me ten or so healing potions…?"
Everyone’s gaze toward Hubert had changed completely, especially William and the fifty legion mages, who looked at him as if he were some kind of monster.
"Damn it, Merlin, what kind of monster have you made? Is it even possible for a living being to be this tough? Not even dragons have bodies this strong!"
Andefa’s face was full of shock. The previous opponents were too weak, so Hubert’s ability to withstand attacks was understandable. But now, even an eighth-rank Black Iron Orc Sword Saint couldn’t hurt him.
Now everyone could see he was faking his injuries—at most, he had a few scrapes. With his constitution, a good night’s sleep would fix it.
Lin Yun casually tossed Hubert a healing potion, choosing not to expose his obvious lie.
He was quite satisfied with Hubert’s progress—the guy’s body was now unbelievably strong, beyond any rank calculation. In a head-to-head fight, he could wear down an eighth-rank Sword Saint, and now at sixth-rank, not even an eighth-rank could beat him.
It was a pity the Dragonblood Orc’s spellcasting talent had vanished, but with a body this tough, combined with monstrous strength and Slaughter—crafted from the hardest bones of the Primordial Venom Dragon—this was the perfect fighting style for Hubert.
As long as it’s close combat, no one below Heaven Rank can kill Hubert—a perfect meat shield.
Hubert clutched a healing potion, about to speak, but caught Lin Yun’s odd gaze and obediently stashed the potion, slipping into the crowd.
In the distance, Wagner watched Hubert’s fight in shock, his gaze toward Lin Yun now tinged with caution.
This orc’s strength is incredible—no, his potential is terrifying. At Six-Rank Sword Saint, he already has a monstrous body, and even an eighth-rank Black Iron Orc Sword Saint couldn’t hurt him. An eighth-rank Sword Saint probably isn’t his match anymore.
If these people have any bad intentions, that orc could charge straight through my men—no one could stop him.
And those fifty elite legion mages, plus that cold-faced woman who hasn’t even acted yet—Merlin’s forces aren’t much weaker than ours.
Was he always after that relic?
If we destroy that relic and Radiance Fortress, the points we earn would far surpass clearing out minor tribes.
"Doug, if we end up fighting those Andalusian people, how many men would we lose to wipe them out?"
Doug laughed heartily.
"Young master, you’re overthinking it. Their strength is decent, but with only fifty mages and that scary orc, they can’t beat us. When the time comes, we’ll just send a few sharpshooters to kill that Merlin, and the rest won’t fight to the death."
I’ve looked into that Merlin—he’s just a well-connected junior from the Merlin family, supposedly bought his way into command. See those three young men? They’re the ones the Merlin family is really grooming.