The man standing there now bore two sharply defined peaks on his insignia, signaling that he was a 2-star genius of Mountain Gods Valley—and judging by the weight of the aura pouring off his body like a tidal wave, Max instantly knew he stood at the peak of the Champion Rank, a powerful figure not to be underestimated.
Max’s gaze flickered back to the two wounded figures. Whoever they were, they had provoked the wrath of Mountain Gods Valley—or perhaps stumbled upon sothing they shouldn’t have.
Either way, the bloody encounter unfolding before Max’s eyes was yet another vivid reminder that in the Hundred Battle Regions, death could co from any direction, without warning—and that every secret, every rumor, and every treasure was a spark waiting to ignite deadly conflict.
Perched silently atop a thick, moss-covered branch high in the canopy of an ancient tree, Max watched the scene unfolding below with a careful, calculating gaze, the green leaves rustling gently around him in the mountain breeze.
On the stony ground stood a young man clad in a silver robe that glead like polished tal beneath the fractured shafts of sunlight filtering through the treetops. His expression was twisted into a mask of cold fury, and a sharp, killing intent radiated off him in oppressive waves.
His hand gripped the hilt of a sword that was half-drawn from its scabbard, the blade reflecting glints of steel-blue light as he pointed it accusingly at the pair sprawled a few steps away, injured and gasping for breath.
"Rose Hensir, Gayle Hansir—you two can’t run away," the silver-robed youth snarled, his voice slicing through the valley like a blade. "I, Brian, will not return until blood is spilled."
Max’s eyes shifted to the two siblings, Rose and Gayle, who were struggling to sit up, leaning heavily on each other for support. Blood stained their lips and robes, and their skin glistened with an unhealthy pallor, veins faintly darkened beneath the surface—a clear sign of poisoning.
Gayle’s eyes, though clouded with pain, still burned with defiance. He clenched his jaw and shouted hoarsely, "Brian, if you hadn’t poisoned , do you think I, Gayle, would be afraid of you?" His words trembled with rage and bitterness.
Gayle’s mana aura, though visibly weakened, still carried the traces of soone who stood on equal footing with Brian under normal circumstances. But the poison, Max could tell, was eating away at his strength from the inside, turning every movent into agony.
Brian laughed—a chilling, brittle sound that cracked like ice breaking. "Haha, the winner is the king and the loser is the bandit. What’s the point of saying this now?"
Max, concealed high above in the swaying branches, felt a faint frown tighten his brow. He remained crouched like a panther, his Three Dinsional Body registering every breath, every heartbeat below.
But what weighed even more heavily on Max’s mind was the broader implication behind the silver-robed youth’s identity. Brian wasn’t just a powerful individual; he was a mber of Mountain Gods Valley, one of the seven overlord forces in the Middle Domain.
And Max knew from mouths of Arlen and his team that Mountain Gods Valley had deep connections with the Thunder Monarch Hall. It was rumored that the wife of the Mountain Gods Valley’s current leader hailed from Thunder Monarch Hall, and one of Thunder Monarch Hall’s supre elders shared blood ties with Mountain Gods Valley.
Such bonds ant that even a single disciple like Brian could draw the ire—or protection—of two colossal forces if sothing happened to him.
’I don’t know how the relationship between the Great Ruler Empire and Mountain Gods Valley truly stands... but they’re allies of the Thunder Monarch Hall. That’s reason enough for to kill them all.’ A flicker of ice-cold rage twisted through his chest as he recalled Omar’s ruthless grin, the arrogant command to kill Max and his team simply because he could. ’If they wanted to kill back then, why should I show them any rcy now?’
A slow, almost cruel smile curved Max’s lips as his fingers tightened into a fist. "Well... this is a good opportunity to test the power of the Immorial Dragon Elephant Fist Art," he murmured to himself, his voice as quiet as the rustling leaves.
Below him, Brian’s expression was filled with bloodlust as he prepared another strike. He was around thirty years old, the cold light in his eyes flashing with malice as he raised his hand, silver spiritual power coiling around his fingers like serpents.
anwhile, Gayle, his face pale and slick with sweat, fought to stay standing beside his sister. Max’s keen eyes took in every detail: the tight lines of exhaustion around Gayle’s mouth, the trembling grip on the long iron rod in his hand, and the fine web of black veins crawling faintly beneath his skin—a sign that the poison was still wreaking havoc inside him.
From Gayle’s earlier shout, Max had gathered that before being poisoned, Gayle’s strength wasn’t inferior to Brian’s, which almost certainly made him a 2-star genius as well—another elite from one of the seven overlord forces.
A spark of calculation glinted in Max’s gaze. ’It wouldn’t be a bad thing to make friends with soone like Gayle Hensir. Connections with other overlord forces could be useful.’
Brian’s killing intent suddenly exploded like a blade unsheathed. He thrust his palm forward, and several thin, sharp streaks of silver energy shot out like lethal ribbons, twisting and slashing through the air toward Gayle.
Gayle roared hoarsely, veins bulging at his temples as he swung his six-foot-long iron rod with all the strength he could muster. Sparks flew as the iron rod collided with the silver silk-like energy, managing to shatter it with sheer brute force.
But the impact sent a violent recoil through Gayle’s arms and chest, blood spraying from his lips as he staggered backward, his feet digging furrows into the bloodstained soil before he crashed onto one knee, gasping for breath.
And then—
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