Chapter 463: Max Enter the Battle
A total of around forty or so Expert Rank warriors from the Monarch’s army surged forward toward Max’s position, their murderous auras pressing heavily against the air, causing visible distortions.
Yet despite the numbers, Max quickly noticed sothing important—their strength, while formidable, wasn’t the peak. Among them, a handful were at the 7th, 8th, and 9th levels of the Expert Rank, while the rest hovered at the lower end, sitting at the early stages like Level 1 and Level 2.
These weren’t the true monsters of the Monarch’s forces—they were the vanguard, ant to overwhelm through numbers rather than absolute dominance.
The mont the attackers crossed the critical distance, Klaus moved with frightening precision. His dark armor glead under the flashing lights of battle, and with a sudden surge, black flas erupted from his body like a living inferno.
The fire wasn’t wild or chaotic—instead, it flowed around him like a controlled storm, tightly woven into his movents. He imdiately picked out the highest threats—the Level 8 and Level 9 Experts—and charged straight into them.
His black flas curled around his sword, coating it in a darkness that devoured even the light around it. With every swing, arcs of black fire swept out like grim scythes, slicing through techniques and barriers alike.
One enemy Expert Rank tried to block him with a heavy earth shield, but Klaus simply smiled coldly and thrust forward—his black flas seeping into the cracks of the shield before igniting it from within, causing it to shatter into dust.
Another enemy roared and charged with a lightning-infused spear, but Klaus twisted, black fire coiling along his blade, and severed the spear cleanly in half, the flas consuming the man’s weapon and arm in a heartbeat.
His control over the black flas was monstrous—every flicker was purposeful, every eruption calculated to kill or cripple. Within monts, two of the Level 8 enemies lay burning on the battlefield, their bodies charred and crumbling to ash.
“He is too strong. Let’s fight together.” The 9th level Expert Rank warrior shouted to others as they surrounded Klaus in the air.
anwhile, the silver-haired elven woman moved with graceful lethality, her body surrounded by shimring silver magic that glittered with a cold, sharp beauty.
She faced the Level 5, 6, and 7 Experts of the Monarch’s army without hesitation. With a sweep of her hand, she conjured silver constructs—swords, shields, and spears—appearing out of thin air like manifestations of her will.
A silver sword flashed out, stabbing through a fire user’s chest before another spear materialized midair and skewered a charging water elentalist without rcy.
Her magic wasn’t just elegant—it was ruthlessly efficient, the silver constructs hard as divine steel, moving in flawless synchronization with her thoughts.
Around them, the other elven warriors fought valiantly. Each one specialized in a different elent, creating a dazzling, deadly spectacle of elental warfare.
So elves hurled devastating gusts of razor-sharp wind that cut down their foes like invisible blades. Others conjured torrents of water shaped into serpents, dragging enemies down and drowning them midair.
So fought with their weapons like swords, spears and so on.
Earth elent specialists raised towering walls and spikes to block and impale charging warriors, while fire elent users created blazing storms that turned enemy formations into chaos.
It was a perfect, shifting orchestra of elental power, each elf finding their rhythm in the dance of death.
Despite being outnumbered, the defense around Max held strong, like an unbreakable fortress. The Monarch’s warriors had charged in with full confidence, believing they could crush a small group easily—but now they found themselves fighting a losing battle against black flas that devoured everything, silver constructs that struck like lightning, and an elven force whose mastery of the elents turned the very battlefield against them.
‘It’s my turn,’ Max thought, his eyes narrowing with a deadly glint as they locked onto one of the Monarch’s warriors—a Level 1 Expert Rank cultivator who was busy supporting the others from a safe distance.
His aura wasn’t strong compared to the others, but Max knew that in a chaotic battlefield, even one hidden enemy could tilt the balance.
Without hesitation, Max moved. His figure blurred, vanishing from the circle of protection the elven warriors had ford around him, moving so fast that even the silver-haired elf and Klaus couldn’t stop him in ti.
He reappeared right in front of the Level 1 Expert Rank warrior, so suddenly that the man’s eyes widened in pure shock. Before the warrior could react, Max unleashed the full, unrestrained power of the 300 Draconic Essences he had accumulated inside his body.
The ancient, savage force coursed through his muscles like a roaring flood, amplifying his physical strength to terrifying heights. Max’s fist clenched tightly, his veins bulging with golden energy, and with a thunderous roar, he slamd his fist straight into the warrior’s chest.
Bang!
The impact was earth-shattering. The Level 1 Expert Rank cultivator’s body bent awkwardly from the force before he was hurled downward like a broken cot.
His body hit the ground with such catastrophic montum that a deep, jagged crater instantly ford, chunks of earth and stone exploding upward in a storm of dust and debris.
But Max wasn’t finished.
As the dust rose in thick clouds from the shattered ground, Max lifted his hand without hesitation, summoning his next attack.
“Magic Swords Excalibur!” he roared, his voice crackling with fierce energy.
Above him, the sky split apart as an enormous golden sword materialized, four tis the size of Max himself, gleaming with holy brilliance. The sword tore through the clouds like a falling star, its sharp edge humming with boundless destructive power.
Without giving the battered warrior a single chance to recover, the giant sword plumted straight down, piercing the center of the crater with a deafening crash.
Boom!
The earth trembled violently, and a new crater—far larger and deeper than the first—blossod outward from the point of impact. Dust and shattered stone erupted in a massive shockwave that forced nearby soldiers, both ally and enemy, to shield their faces and stagger back.
When the dust finally cleared, the spot where the Level 1 Expert Rank warrior had fallen was completely obliterated. There was nothing left—no body, no weapon, no armor. Only a gaping, smoldering crater remained, a brutal result to Max’s raw, overwhelming strength.
And soon, the towering golden sword of pure magic that had split the earth faded away, dissolving into shimring motes of light that scattered into the wind, leaving behind only the massive crater and the utter devastation it had wrought.
The battlefield where Klaus, the silver-haired elven woman, and the other elves had been locked in fierce battle fell into an eerie, absolute silence. For a mont, it was as if ti itself had frozen.
Every pair of eyes—ally and enemy alike—turned toward Max, who stood calmly atop the shattered ground, his figure bathed in the lingering golden glow of his own unleashed power.
Even the Expert Rank warriors who had been viciously clashing with Klaus and the elves stopped mid-battle, their weapons hesitating in the air, their faces twisted in disbelief.
“He… he killed an Expert Rank warrior… so easily?” Klaus muttered under his breath, his voice cracking slightly as he stared at Max with wide, stunned eyes. His mind, trained and sharpened through countless battles, struggled to process what he had just witnessed. It wasn’t just that Max had won—it was how effortlessly he had done it.
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