NovelEnglishA deafening blast echoed through the air.
The blood-red curved longsword wielded by the black-armored warrior had severed the silver dragon's head in
half.
The shockwave generated by their collision swept out in all directions like a tidal wave, blowing up debris in its
path.
The crowd was forced to retreat by the gusting wind, struggling to keep their eyes open.
Moments later, after the chaos subsided, a transformation had already taken place on the battlefield.
On the left, Vincent held his silver spear with a solemn expression, his clothes torn. His hand that was gripping
his spear trembled slightly.
On the right, Marco stood in silence. The eerie red glow of his Demon blade faded as he sheathed it slowly.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt
They stood 30 feet apart, gazing at each other across the field without uttering a word. It seemed as if thad
frozen.
"What happened? Who won?" The crowd exchanged looks of confusion.
That final blow had been too quick for ordinary martial artists to follow. They only saw a flash of light, followed by
a thunderous explosion and a surging shockwave.
When they finally returned to their senses, the battle had already ended, and they couldn't tell who had emerged
victorious.
"Why aren't they moving? Did Vincent win?" Ruby asked curiously.
"Seems like it." Miles nodded.
"Vincent's last strike was incredible. That brat couldn't possibly have withstood it. He might look unharmed, but
he must be seriously injured and will collapse soon!"
"That's great!" Ruby was overjoyed. "As expected of the legendary Spearhawk. Let's see if that brat still dares to
act haughtily after this battle!"
The outcof this battle not only concerned Vincent's reputation but also represented the nation's dignity. If
Vincent won, it would undoubtedly mark a remarkable achievement.
Despite their optimism, Crystal frowned slightly, appearing solemn.
If her eyes hadn't failed her, during that final strike, it had been the black-armored warrior who severed the silver
dragon head.
Hey! You enemy bootlicker!" Right then, Ruby shifted her attention to Dustin.
"Didn't you claim that the brat would win? What do you have to say for yourself now?"
"The outchas been decided. There's nothing more to say," Dustin replied indifferently.
"Hmph! So, you're finally at a loss for words? Realized you're in the wrong, did you? Own up to your mistakes
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmnext time. Don't constantly submit to others. It's embarrassing," Ruby said with a smirk.
Just as she finished her sentence, Vincent's silver spear suddenly snapped into two pieces. The spearhead
clattered to the ground, igniting a few embers.
Following that, a gaping hole materialized on his shirt. Beneath his shirt, on his chest, a red laceration appeared.
At first, the laceration was as thin as a strand of hair, but within moments, it expanded into a horrifying gash,
unleashing a torrent of blood.
Vincent's body convulsed. Finally reaching his limits, he expelled a mouthful of blood. Unsteady on his feet, he
eventually collapsed to the ground.
Despite his struggles to rise, he remained on the ground. His face turned pale, and he was drenched in sweat.
The surroundings plunged into silence as the crowd witnessed the scene before them. They were dumbfounded,
finding it hard to believe. No one expected Vincent to suffer such a devastating defeat.
"How is this possible? Spearhawk lost?"
"No! It can't be! Vincent has unparalleled spear techniques. How could he lose to that brat?"
Visit our social media platform to read fascinating stories every day and connect with the community!
