The sudden turn of events took everyone by surprise. No one had expected Arion to strike so suddenly; he was
so fast that they couldn't even see his movement.
Even Willem, renowned for his speed, couldn’t react in time. One slap had sent him flying-simple, brutal, and
unstoppable.
At that moment, they finally realized that the seemingly harmless Arion was much more formidable than they
had imagined.
Willem staggered to his feet and reached up to straighten his twisted neck. His collapsed cheek began to heal at
a visible rate. Fortunately for him, vampires possessed extraordinary regenerative abilities. Without it, the slap
would have crippled him.
“You're strong for an old geezer, but it'll take more than that to finishoff,” Willem hissed through clenched
teeth. The bloodthirst in his eyes was unmistakable as he glared at Arion. If he could drain Arion’s blood, his
strength would surge to unimaginable heights.
“Oh? This is interesting.” Arion raised an eyebrow with a faint smile.
“Go to hell, old geezer!” Willem snarled and sprang into action. He pushed off with his feet and turned into a
blood-red shadow as he charged toward Arion.
With one hand behind his back, Arion didn’t move to dodge. Instead, he extended his right hand and lightly
tapped the incoming shadow.
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A loud crack split the air as a purple lightning bolt, as thick as a human thigh, shot out. The surrounding night
sky lit up as the bolt streaked across it.
It was the signature technique of Sacred Wrym Summit-Stormcraft.
Most disciples could summon a bolt as thick as a thumb, and even someone as skilled as Oron could manage a
lightning bolt as thick as his wrist. But Arion’s lightning bolt was as thick as a thigh. This was no ordinary
Stormcraft -it was like the wrath of the gods.
The lightning struck the blood-red shadow with a crack and blasted it into pieces. But then, something strange
happened. The shattered remains transformed into thousands of vampiric bats.
The bats swarmed in a dense mass, and their erratic movements made them hard to track. They scattered in all
directions before swiftly regrouping and charging at Arion in relentless waves like a storm of projectiles.
Suddenly, a hum filled the air, and a brilliant golden light enveloped Arion’s body. The light, blinding as the sun,
flared outward. Any bat that touched it was instantly knocked away. Before they even hit the ground, they
dissolved into red mist. The bats couldn't even get close to Arion.
While a typical Glow Incantation would serve only as a defensive shield, Arion’s version carried offensive power.
Any evil energy that cinto contact would be obliterated.
Seeing his attack fail, the swarm of bats quickly regrouped and transformed back into Willem’s original form. But
he looked even paler than before. The bats had been created from his own blood energy, and the golden light's
eradication of them had drained him.
“Is this all you've got? And you dare to claim you can destroy Sacred Wrym Summit? How foolish!” Arion smiled
contemptuously.
“Old geezer! Let's settle this once and for all!” Willem snarled. His fangs and claws were bared as he lunged at
Arion like a wild beast.
“Attack!”
Seeing that Willem failed to gain any advantage, Bailey immediately commanded the others to strike. In an
instant, more than a dozen elite fighters attacked Arion from all sides.
Bailey was a powerhouse with extraordinary physical strength. His speed, power, and defenses set him apart
from other ultimate grandmasters. His combat style was violent he used his hands like blades, which were
capable of tearing a person apart.
Batuul’s fighting style was similar to Bailey's, as he relied on his fists as his main weapons. The difference was
that Batuul’s fist mastery had reached perfection, which allowed each strike to pinpoint weak spots and shatter
them with 100 times the force.
His attacks were simple and brutal, yet his technique had a hidden precision that made it almost impossible to
predict.
Anthony from Kimboku was a master swordsman with advanced cultivation.
The demonic blade he wielded was incredibly sinister, as it was capable of draining the target's life force. Even a
minor cut from it would rapidly sap the victim's vitality until they died.
As for the three top assassins from Eskus, each had their own unique strengths.
Vanzan, a master of submission holds, had limbs as deadly as constricting snakes. Anyone caught in his grasp
would be unable to break free.
Noir was a deadly assassin who was proficient with a wide range of weapons. His strikes were sudden, lethal, and
nearly impossible to counter.
As for Shyvan, he was a master of voodoo curses. He killed his victims silently and without a trace.
Alongside them, several gods from the Hall of Gods unleashed their most special techniques and displayed their
full combat power. When facing such world-class elites, any ordinary ultimate grandmaster would likely be torn
apart instantly.
Arion remained unfazed as he stood perfectly still. He was enveloped in a dazzling golden light. His presence was
as commanding as that of a god.
“Begone, evil cultist!” As the enemies closed in, he stomped his foot. The golden light around him suddenly
transformed into thousands of long whips and lashed out indiscriminately in all directions.
Each golden whip struck with the force of a thousand pounds. It could instantly kill any ordinary martial artist
upon contact.
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