Damon imdiately felt a wave of weakness as both skills drained his health quite a bit. The absence of mana in the surroundings cost him a lot. Then how was the old man able to freely use his skills?
"I assu you can now take care of any stray attacks on the plane?" Artimius smirked at him as his figure flew past him without any restriction. A long silver shimring sword appeared in his hand as the old man dove straight towards the damned missile!
Damon narrowed his eyes and stared at the unbelievable scene. Though he was now able to use so skills in real life at the cost of his blood energy, he would never underestimate the power of modern weapons. Only a level 100 with complete access to mana might be able to stand against modern weapons in a head-on power collision. Even that was pushing it.
So, how was Artimius so confident? There was no way he would be this reckless just for the sake of soone else. His actions could only an that he had real confidence. Damon did not understand how. The absence of mana was final. How could one possibly go around it?
Artimius was flying. Effortlessly. The old man surged past him, robes billowing like flags of war, the sword in his hands. With a single motion, Artimius spun midair and dove toward the incoming missile like a falling star.
Damon could only stare in disbelief. "You crazy old man," he muttered under his breath
Far ahead, the missile collided with a flash of silver and was cut, not detonated, not redirected, cut cleanly in half by the gleaming arc of Artimius’ sword. The two pieces spun out of control and exploded harmlessly above the clouds.
And just like that... the sky was calm again.
"Impossible!" Damon muttered as he watched the spectacle. The old man calmly flew towards him as if what he had done just now was no big deal. "There. That’s taken care of now but I suspect more could be on the way. If I were you, I would ground the plane already and face the enemy first. It looks like both of us have nowhere to hide tonight."
Damon smiled bitterly. In the end, he did get pulled into their clan fight. Was this what the old man was gunning for right from the beginning?
As if reading his thoughts, Artimius dryly chuckled. "I wouldn’t have risked sending my beloved granddaughter with you if I knew sothing like this was going to happen. I always knew there was a chance but I believed we had acted fast enough."
Damon nodded. "It’s fine." He turned around and waved at Sylvara who already knew what he was saying. Landing a plane without an airstrip and in the middle of nowhere was quite risky but this was not her first ti doing this.
Sylvara didn’t hesitate. With a smooth banking maneuver, she tilted the aircraft downward, beginning a steep but controlled descent. The engines roared in protest as she pushed the controls hard, rerouting energy and bracing the wings against turbulence.
The plane wasn’t built for combat evasion, but it was built by her and that ant it had a few tricks hidden beneath the surface.
Inside the cabin, everyone scread and clutched at their seats as the world tilted. Damon could hear the thudding panic of heartbeats through the reinforced steel but Sylvara was handling it well. It looked like there was nothing to worry. He was also prepared to act at any ti if his intervention was required.
Outside, Artimius floated calmly beside him, hands behind his back, as if they were taking a casual stroll across the frozen tundra. His erald robe fluttered in the wind, his silver hair untouched by the madness around them.
Damon looked at him again but silently shifted his attention back to the private plane. Artimius chuckled at his behaviour. "Is the Blood God not curious about my attack just now or how I was able to weild magic without mana?"
Unexpectedly, Damon only shook his head.
Artimius couldn’t help but raise a brow. "You don’t want to know... or perhaps you already know."
Damon smiled. Of course, he knew. If he couldn’t guess by now then he would be a total idiot. At first he was not sure but the mont he saw the sword cut through the missile like it was nothing, it was fairly obvious.
No ice sword could pull off a feat like that. Not without the user having a mana core and definitely not without mana. This could only an that the sword in the old man’s hand was not an ice sword to begin with.
In fact, it couldn’t be of any tal from earth that he knew of and a material sword couldn’t be summoned like that if it wasn’t one of an extrely high quality like the legendary weapon Blood Reign.
This left only one answer. The sword that had been in the old man’s hand should be one made of pure sword intent, a soul sword materialized by his cultivation of sword arts or so sort of soul sword technique.
This would also explain everything else.
In earth online, players were introduced to many different types of energy, including rare ones like soul energy. However, soul energy was extrely difficult to handle when compared to mana or blood energy or even internal energy. It was one of the most mysterious and unique energy types.
If Damon was not wrong, then Artimius’ secret wasn’t so hidden mana pool or magical loophole. It was sothing far more ancient and far more terrifying. He wasn’t using mana at all. He was drawing directly from his soul.
He was using Soul energy.
"So you did figure it out." Artimius chuckled.
The plane touched down roughly, skidding across a vast stretch of snow-blanketed land. The landing gear groaned under the pressure as Sylvara guided the aircraft down with practiced focus, her hands firm on the controls. White flurries whipped past the windows in a frenzy, the entire landscape buried in thick, untouched snow.
The aircraft shuddered violently as it slowed before finally grinding to a stop. Steam hissed from the engines as they cooled rapidly in the frigid air.
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