In the chaos of clashing steel and roaring beasts, a sudden silence cut through the battlefield. Then, as if on instinct, ten thousand blades cleaved at the same point in the void.
Julian raised his greatsword. A strange pull drew every phantom blade behind him into one, fusing into a strike that seemed to split heaven itself. The sword light pierced the air, tearing through the Blood Clan elites. Weapons shattered in their hands, bodies crumbled into ruin, and a vast chasm ripped straight through the enemy formation.
Gasps spread like wildfire. "What… what kind of technique is that?"
No one had ever witnessed such a terrifying strike. That single blow carried a weight that rivaled the full strength of a Saint-rank powerhouse.
"Brute, what about you?" someone asked, their gaze turning to the Saint-rank expert who had once crossed blades with Ethan. The man had been flung aside by Dragon-Phoenix earlier and was now skulking behind the crowd.
