Chapter 156: The Difference Between Swords

Seeing Ross assume a defensive stance, Venigo allowed himself a brief moment to gather his sword intent. The next second, a majestic surge of sword qi accompanied Venigo’s movement, howling downward with a violent, heaven-piercing momentum.

A single strike! Unstoppable, inescapable, as though shattering body and soul alike. Yet this was merely Ross’s perception; nearby, neither Ross’s attendants nor the little wolf-girl Suna and her companions felt even the slightest trace of sword qi or murderous intent.

Condensed, focused, utterly without waste. Yet only Ross, standing directly beneath the blade, knew what a terrifying sword he was facing.

Crack… snap!

The saber-toothed longsword shattered on impact.

Venigo expressionlessly flicked away the fragments of the sword in his hand and looked at Ross.

"Shall we continue?" he asked.

Ross stared at Venigo for a moment, then shook his head. He sheathed his remaining hilt, turned his head aside, and gave a few brief instructions to his guard.

Before long, the guard returned carrying a longsword.

"This is my spare blade. Consider it compensation," Ross said, tossing the longsword to Venigo. Venigo nodded and accepted it without a blush.

He had done it on purpose.

Given the quality of the saber-toothed longsword, engaging in intense clashes with the opponent’s weapon would inevitably leave it battered. Employing a powerful sword technique under such conditions would naturally cause it to shatter under the immense force.

As for Ross’s goodwill—even if it were a sugar-coated bullet, Venigo’s standard practice was to eat the sugar and pocket the bullet.

The sword Ross offered had been forged by the same master as his own weapon; it closely matched its shape and weight, though the embedded enchantment was slightly weaker. Still, to Venigo, such a sword was not some peerless treasure, but merely adequate for use.

He did not wish to expose his full strength. This Viscount Ross Thalia was not enough to force out his utmost capabilities. Though Venigo could tell that Ross had not gone all out either.

"Sophie, what do you make of that Viscount Thalia?" Venigo asked, waiting until Ross and his men had withdrawn from the room.

"Capable," Sophie replied. "And holding back thirty percent of his strength."

"Only thirty percent?" Venigo let out an exclamation. When it came to swordsmanship, he couldn't hold a candle to Sophie, so he naturally trusted his companion's judgment. "That means his strength isn't enough to cause us much trouble."

"His attendant is not just for show," Sophie reminded him softly. "The one who hasn't moved at all might be an expert."

Venigo snapped his fingers in sudden realization and dismissed his character construct.

"That being said, if I build my character to my absolute limit, I can finish off Ross within five minutes, but I cannot gauge that hidden expert."

"Perhaps he is his fencing instructor," Sophie noted. "He must possess immense strength to give Ross the confidence to attempt something with just three people."

"I am still uncertain of his objective. After all, we were commissioned by Prince Nicholas, and they are also servants of the royal family... Wait, did they not recognize me earlier?" Venigo paused in realization. "That's strange. Didn't Count Thalia inform his son?"

"Viscount Thalia dislikes being associated with his father," Sherry suddenly lifted her hood, leaned forward, and said calmly, "He might not truly be a man of Ironfist Castle."

"Fair enough... A rebellious son determined to forge a different path to surpass his father?" Venigo smiled wryly. "From that perspective, perhaps..."

It was an interesting development. Coupled with Ross and Soft's relationship, there seemed to be quite a fascinating backstory here.

The little wolf-girl suddenly perked up her ears and twitched them slightly. She tilted her head and murmured after a long moment, "There seems to be movement... right outside the outpost?"

Suna dissolved into a soundless wisp of smoke and drifted out of the room. A short while later, she scurried back in panic, reverted to her true form, and blurted out urgently, "The Malzans are attacking! Ross and Soft are fighting! Ross's men opened the gates."

Venigo frowned, pushed his desk aside, and rushed out with his weapon. Sophie followed closely behind him in silence, intercepting his lead just before he dashed through the door.

Venigo said nothing further, merely turning back to gesture for the little wolf-girl and Suna to follow. As for Sherry, she soared straight upward on the howling blizzard, appearing at the very peak of the outpost.

"What about me?!" little Hanny shouted.

"Go help Sherry!" Venigo yelled back.

Character selected, parsing complete... Divine power infused, Berserk God Descent system level 40 Blademaster Cokelin, construction complete.

Divine modification, Hourglass of Time selected, "Action Mastery" attached.

Venigo exhaled softly, tightly gripping the acquired magic longsword. With a flash of sword light, in the time it normally took to thrust once, he had already thrust three times.

The residual divine power within the Hourglass of Time granted "Action Mastery" its true formidable effect, enabling Venigo to execute multiple actions with every single attack.

Consequently, Venigo's offensive momentum became even more unstoppable.

At the summit of the outpost, Sherry stood quietly amidst the howling wind and snow. Behind her, little Hanny curled up entirely inside her furs, rubbing her hands and shivering incessantly.

"So cold," Hanny grumbled, occasionally pointing a finger here and there.

Mental Sorcery: Mass Fear. Hanny’s fear spell had reached a level of effortless mastery; wherever her fingertips pointed, almost no enemy could withstand her powerful mental pressure without succumbing to terror.

Even the Malzans, who grew up amidst harsh winds and snow and possessed wills far firmer than ordinary people, were no exception.

Sherry merely watched the chaotic scramble of Malzans below, remaining entirely motionless. Above her head, however, masses of snow-mist seemed to come alive, coalescing into a gigantic, ferocious visage that lowered further and further.

Boom!

One side of the outpost was blasted apart by immense force, and two figures burst out one after the other.

Ross and Soft... They really were fighting.

"Soft! I already agreed to your plan, why slaughter my brothers?" Soft roared in fury.

"Brothers? They're just rootless, wretched soldiers," Ross sneered. "Soft Cleave-Sky, don't forget, you are a lapdog of the royal family. Your life, your sword, everything you own does not belong to you, understand?"

He suddenly noticed that Sherry and Hanny were standing off to the side, heads tilted as if watching a play.

Ross drew his sword and strode toward Hanny. With a roar, Soft blocked his path, pointing his blade directly at him.

"You're not even sparing little girls?" Soft demanded.

"They heard what I said!" Ross barked back. "Our mission leaves no room for any accidents!"

"If you dare lay a finger on her, I'll tear out your intestines and sew your mouth shut," Sherry said indifferently, toiling with an ice spike in her hand as she looked Ross up and down.

"Who are you?" Soft asked in surprise.

Sherry did not answer; she simply flicked her wrist, hurling the ice spike in her hand straight at Ross. Ross sneered, his longsword flashing as he batted the ice spike aside and lunged toward Hanny.

Yet almost simultaneously, six ice spikes materialized from different angles, silently driving toward Ross's nape, heart, ribs, and waist. Ross swung his sword frantically, shattering the ice spikes one by one, only to find that Hanny had already skipped away, laughing merrily.

Laughter? A spark of anger inevitably flared in Ross's heart. Mere little girls, and yet they dared treat him with such utter disregard?

He soon learned why Hanny wasn't afraid.

Arrow of Light!

With a casual gesture from Hanny, a dazzling beam of light shot straight toward him. This illusory, formless light arrow could not be parried with a blade, forcing Ross into a frantic dodge.

Dodge? Though Sherry's ice spikes were few, they were fierce and ruthless like precision assassins, relentlessly targeting Ross's vital points—his back, ribs, and ankles—where defense was most difficult. Combined with Hanny's light arrows, he felt utterly overwhelmed.

Hum…

A sword hum rescued Ross.

It was Ross's attendant—the hidden figure near Ross suspected of being a master swordsman.

"Master," Ross bowed slightly, "thank you."

He raised his sword to strike down Hanny, but at that moment, Soft intercepted him with an angry roar.

"Hanny, help me," Sherry said.

Hanny acknowledged with a chirp, stepped back a few paces, and began to chant in a low whisper.

Ross's teacher was a meticulously groomed middle-aged man. He possessed an ordinary face, steady hands, and an exceptionally bright pair of eyes. As he looked at Sherry, he evoked, for no reason at all, a sense of dread in the battle-hardened girl.

"Expel Fear." Hanny's first divine spell was to rid Sherry, Soft, and herself of their terror toward the formidable adversary.

"Forst Diego, swordsman," the middle-aged swordsman introduced himself simply. "Let the battle begin!"

The opening strike was Hanny's light arrow. Just as Venigo often did, she prepared her divine spell while the opponent was speaking, unleashing a light arrow straight at their head the moment an opportunity arose.

Forst swayed slightly, dodging past the light arrow and charging directly toward Sherry.

Sherry remained silent, raising her left hand and straightening her slender, delicate fingers one by one. In an instant, five ice spikes materialized from different directions, hurtling toward Forst.

Clang, clang, clang... Amidst a string of crisp rings, the five ice spikes were deflected in rapid succession. Utilizing the moment, Sherry glided away nimbly across the frosted ground beneath her feet.

With a downward press of her hand, another patch of ice formed directly beneath Forst's feet, nearly sending him sprawling.

An opportunity!