THE MARTIAL KING - Season 9 Episode 57

It was only natural for Cheryl to have something she could take pride in. Being a member of Demon Night had that effect. Through that training, Cheryl planned to be the first in line and leave Boris behind. That was the exact reason she had spent all of her points on a training room that could interfere with the time flow rate.

She was called out of the secret room for this event. Normally, it would piss her off, but knowing that someone had decided to accept Boris’ challenge gave her excitement to an unbelievable extent.

At that certain time, Cheryl felt a pang of envy towards Boris, for she had her eyes on Zen as well.

This guy had achieved the Celestial Position title and had worked his way as a tenth-level war fighter. His abilities must be astounding.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Malcom allowed his eyes to travel through the arena. It was true that Zen’s talent had been proven by the Talent Tablet, but talent didn’t mean everything for a martial artist. After all, Boris’ cultivation was higher than Zen, and from Malcom’s point of view, the possibility of Zen being killed by Boris was very high.

“If Boris fails to end your life today…”

Malcom licked his lips out of eagerness before he continued, “I will do it myself.”
The ogres had already suffered greatly because of Amber, and now, Amber, with her own strength, could harm the existence of the Flaming and Dread Ogre Sacred Places altogether. This was unbearable for the ogres. Amber was a threat, and Zen was stronger than her! In the eyes of Malcom, Zen was already a dead man. It was either him or Boris, who did the deed.

“Come on, Zen Luo!” one of the war generals shouted from one of the stands.

His voice echoed throughout the arena, causing the others to hype up as well. Screams from different directions quickly filled the place.

Human war generals from the tenth floor began to populate the place, too. Their shouts were loud and impressive.

Zen nodded to his fellow humans in the audience, as if saying, “Let’s do this, yeah?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. Finally, you’re standing before me. Kid, let me tell you this. It seems that your clansmen doubt your victory,” Boris sneered.

“And what do you mean by that?” Zen asked with a playful smile.

“If they know so well that you’d win against me, why do they feel the need to cheer you on? My clansmen don’t need to shout my name to let me know they believe in my abilities,” Boris answered, not even subtle with his arrogance.

Boris’ words didn’t have a single effect on Zen. “There’s no point in speaking further. I think most ogres are reckless.

You’re an exception though, aren’t you? Don’t stoop so low just to get a reaction from me. If you know so well that you’d win against me, why do you feel the need to use these cheap tricks?” Zen mocked his earlier words.

“You’re right, kid. But please, do me a favor and go all out. The thought of you giving your best shot to kill me excites me all the more,” Boris stated with a sly smile.

The competition wasn’t as important as killing Zen. That was how it was for the ogres. That was how much they despised his existence.

However, Boris had his own share of selfish thoughts. He truthfully wanted Zen to go all out, so that he challenged himself to give it his all as well. A duel everyone would never forget.

“I think it’s time we stop talking at once.” At his words, Zen pulled out his sacred weapon. The light hit its sharp edges. What a way to start the fight.

Boris huffed in sheer excitement, pulling out his own weapon.

The ogres were of the tall and well-built kind. Their weapons were as sturdy as their bodies. Boris’ saber was impressive with its faint red glow on the blade, which was just as sacred as Zen’s sword.

The very moment Boris raised his weapon, the red glow began to disappear. At the same time, a faint red light exploded from his eyes.

“This low-grade sacred saber is called Blood Devour. As its rightful owner, I shall not feel any pain until I fall in battle. It shall give me endless strength and courage. Limitless!”

The once calm face that Boris was carrying had now turned into a look of madness.

Sacred weapons were unique and had each of their own characteristics.

As a standard weapon of the Dragon Abyss Palace, Zen’s sword was almost useless. However, he was the kind of guy who made use of whatever he had. A weapon was a weapon. All of them shall give their owners the strength and courage.

“Fighting a tenth-level war fighter is actually very embarrassing for someone like me. However, since you have obtained the title of ‘Celestial Position’, I cannot regard you as a war fighter. Now, show me your true strength!”

Flourishing his saber, Boris took a leap while a violent forceful energy erupted out of his body. His weapon released a blinding light, which went directly on to Zen’s head.

Quick to notice this potential damage, Zen leaned to the side and avoided the strike. Naturally, the saber only cut through the air.

A loud thud was heard by the entire place.

The broad blade of the saber decorated the arena. Boris horizontally pulled out his saber and it drew a semicircle in the air. He attempted to hack it towards Zen’s direction.

Even though Boris was smaller compared to the other ogres, he was just as strapping and strong.

Stepping aside, Zen had once again managed to avoid the forceful attack.

Two huge cracks appeared on the arena grounds. Like the mouths of devils, they healed themselves.

Because of the existence of the weapon spirit, the Tower of Sin had such an ability to heal itself. Zen understood that now.

The weapon spirit controlled the Tower of Sin. Now that its owner had already passed away, the weapon spirit could only protect the tower, but not had the trainees there under its control.

“Is that all you know how to do? Dodge my attacks? Let’s see if you can still dodge this!”

Boris waved his saber and began to spin it rapidly, almost resembling a windmill. By the time Boris had reached a certain speed, Zen could no longer see the saber in front of him. It was just a circular wheel.

“This is the Broken Killing Wheel!”

Boris stared at his gigantic creation and charged towards Zen. The saber’s rotation speed had reached its limit, completely sealing off Zen’s escape route. It was going to be impossible for him to avoid this one.

“It’s time,” Zen whispered to himself as he horizontally held his sword. Taking a step back, he let his strongest energy emerge from his body.

“No Move!”

He looked like a child with his crooked sword, almost as if stabbing the opponent for no clear reason at all.

“What is he doing? Is he making fun of Boris?”

“He is definitely going to pay for mocking his opponent!”

“What kind of technique was that?”

Zen’s actions had caused a commotion among the crowd. All of them had not a clue as to what that crooked sword technique was for.

Obviously, Boris was the dominator of the two. Whoever got strangled into the wheel would suffer a painful death, with their body pieces spreading out in the arena. That meat grinder of a saber could create a bloodbath.

In the eyes of the war generals, Zen’s strike was quite unorthodox and completely out of tune.

Cheryl stood up from her seat and stared intensely at Zen’s crooked weapon.

As a swordsman herself, Cheryl was shocked at the sight of the young man’s sword. Her swordsmanship was passed down to her from the sacred place of Demon Night, so it was safe to say that she knew her weapons.

‘This sword technique is the strangest I’ve seen, yet I’m very drawn to it, ‘ Cheryl admitted to herself, even if she didn’t want to.

Malcom, Madeline, Fabian, and Jarrod, who were all sitting right by Cheryl, had a particular look on their faces. They were frustrated and impressed.

Putting aside racial prejudice, Zen’s crooked sword technique seemed to contain endless mysteries being discussed by everyone present at the scene. They all believed they could easily avoid this attack and defeat him using other methods.

This move made by Zen caused utter confusion.

“Where could this brat have learned this kind of technique?”

Fabian’s lips twisted in different directions as he shook his head, unable to make anything out of Zen’s sudden weirdness.

“I think it’s just getting more and more interesting, to be honest,” Madeline said, smiling softly.

Clatter!

Zen’s sword move seemed light, but as he began to thrust it forward, it touched the shaft of Boris’ saber. At that exact moment, a huge force exploded from Zen’s body, spreading throughout the sword.

With a single strike, the saber that Boris brandished like a wheel came to an abrupt stop.

A faint smile hung on Zen’s face as he looked at Boris. His long sword was firmly stuck on Boris’ saber as if it grew out of it.

He tried to withdraw his weapon, but Zen’s sword was too big for him to do so.

Strength had always been the pride of the ogres.

The Demon Night relied on their agility, while the ogres basked in their pride of strength. Boris, an ogre, was defeated strength-wise by a boy.

That was the ultimate humiliation!

With his face turning red from the embarrassment, Boris, with all his might, mustered all of his ogre strength and was finally able to take back his saber. With a swift wave of his hand, the saber created a huge arc as it flew to Zen’s direction.

Despite that forceful attack, Zen remained unaffected.

Using the No Move technique, he was able to dodge Boris’ attacks. Zen’s technique was intangible, so his sword strikes were unpredictable and seamless. He moved like the wind.

Clatter!

Once again, Zen’s sacred weapon had sealed off Boris’ saber.

“I did it again!”

Zen beamed to himself.

Upon seeing the boy’s smiling face, Boris started to grow sad and felt somehow defeated.

Among the war generals, Boris only had one opponent, and that was Cheryl from the Demon Night. He even had the confidence to kill war lords of low levels. But today, he was being made fun of! Not even a war general but a mere human war fighter, Zen was able to put Boris to shame.

This was a huge blow even for a big ogre like him to take.

“Anyone who dares mock me will face his death!”

A red light appeared on Boris’ eyes.

His weapon, the Blood Devour, had a special martial skill, and that was to swallow its owner’s blood vitality and give off powerful strength.

The power of the ogres’ blood vitality was far greater than that of ordinary creatures. But, the loss of blood vitality would ultimately have a negative impact on a martial artist. Thus, even Boris rarely used his blood vitality to nourish his saber, as it could cost him much.

He had no other choice at that point.

That brat of a human right in front of him had to die. He had to disappear, for the sake of himself as well as the ogres.
When the raging energy from his body had fully entered the saber in his hand, the aura that burst out from him was ten times stronger than before. He was just getting started.