The Elven Cultivator

Chapter 353: Chapter 325: Why Don’t You Look Very Happy?

A roar of fury echoed across the sky above Steelmane City.

The sound was thick with a killing intent so palpable it was almost tangible, causing the soldiers fighting below to freeze mid-motion as if an invisible hand had clenched around their hearts.

Anton’s expression, however, remained completely unperturbed.

He looked down at Uerk below.

"You wanted a war, so we came." Anton’s voice rang out slowly, cutting clearly through the clamor and roar of the battlefield. "Why is it... you don’t look very happy to see us?"

At these words, Uerk’s eyes instantly turned bloodshot.

He let out a ferocious roar, his figure erupting upward and rocketing toward Anton in the sky.

Zul shot up at the same time.

The two peak Legendary Powerhouses of the Steel Mane Tribe needed no words; they reached a tacit understanding in an instant.

’As long as we kill Anton, we still have a chance to turn this battle around!’

Anton sneered. The Profound Gold Sword Pill leaped from his chest like a blazing sun blooming in the darkness, then exploded into hundreds of streaks of light, emitting a clear, ringing cry.

Two hundred and fifty-six streams of Profound Gold Sword Light streaked across the sky, forming a giant net woven from threads of gold that descended upon Uerk and Zul.

At the same time, the Legendary Powerhouses on both sides clashed, each finding an opponent and erupting into a chaotic brawl.

Ska stood on the base of a partially collapsed tower, ignoring the Legendary Powerhouses locked in combat. His gaze remained fixed on the battle between Uerk, Zul, and Anton.

Uerk’s arms were now shrouded in a visible, dark-gray halo. He threw punch after punch at the incoming Profound Gold Sword Light.

With every punch, the air for hundreds of meters around would stagnate for a moment. Rubble and dust were crushed against the ground by an invisible weight, unable to even stir.

Ska recognized it at a glance: it was the sign of a pressure-based Law being pushed to its absolute limit.

Meanwhile, Zul was wreathed in crackling, violet-white lightning. Bolts as thick as a man’s arm shot from his palms, searing blackened trails across the sky above the city wall as they slammed into the Profound Gold Sword Light, exploding into showers of shattered electrical arcs.

"Lord Ska," Byron said, recovering from his initial shock. He swallowed hard and asked in a low voice, "Should we intervene?"

Ska didn’t answer right away.

He continued to gaze at the sky, his eyes grim. After a moment, he slowly shook his head.

"There’s no need. Uerk and Zul together against Anton alone is more than enough."

His tone was flat, filled with an unshakeable certainty.

"Anton is too arrogant."

"If he had stayed in that tower and used it to stall Uerk and Zul, he could have easily held out until the ground battle was over. At that point, Uerk and Zul would have had no choice but to flee, and victory would have belonged to the Silver Moon Race."

At this point, his voice took on a trace of undisguised contempt. "But no, he had to come out and face them himself. A one-on-two against two peak Legends... He clearly doesn’t think much of Uerk and Zul."

Hearing this, Byron’s expression relaxed slightly, and he let out a long-held breath.

’That’s right,’ he thought. ’The Fallen Dragon Sword Saint might have a fearsome reputation, but in the end, he’s just one peak Legend.’

’There’s no way two peak Legends working together could lose.’

’Looks like the situation isn’t completely hopeless after all.’

Just as Byron was thinking this, he caught sight of a figure plummeting from the sky out of the corner of his eye, crashing to the ground not far away like a meteor.

CRASH!

Rubble flew and dust billowed in an instant.

Byron focused his gaze, and his pupils contracted violently.

The figure that had fallen from the sky was none other than Zul.

The Steel Mane Tribe’s chief Shaman, a peak Legendary Powerhouse, was now lying on his back amidst the broken bricks and dust. A gaping wound ran clean through his chest.

His ruined chest cavity was empty; the heart that should have been beating within had been pulverized into nothingness.

His eyes were still open, a trace of unfaded horror lingering in his pupils, as if even in his final moment he couldn’t believe he had been defeated so quickly.

Byron’s throat bobbed, as if someone had grabbed him by the neck. He couldn’t force out a single word.

Ska’s expression changed in that same instant.

He snapped his head up toward the sky, an unconcealable shock appearing deep in his eyes for the first time.

High above, Anton’s figure remained suspended in the same spot, his robes fluttering gently in the wind. He hadn’t moved so much as half a step.

But the sword light he commanded had undergone a strange transformation.

Half of the sword light had become heavy and slow, leaving trails of murky yellow as it cut through the void. The air itself seemed to compress, carrying a weight that made one’s chest feel tight.

The other half was the complete opposite. It flowed with the grace of water, its edges shimmering with a dark, rippling light. Every turn was like a silent, inexorable tide washing over a reef, carrying a chilling, corrosive intent.

The two starkly different types of sword light wove together, forming an inescapable net that closed in on Uerk from all directions.

Uerk was shrouded in a dark-gray light. He pushed his pressure-based Law to its absolute limit, compressing the air for hundreds of meters around him until it was nearly solid, so dense that even dust motes hung suspended in mid-air, unable to fall.

Yet he was still being suppressed so completely that he could barely breathe.

Every time one of the murky yellow sword lights slashed down, it felt like an invisible mountain crashing onto his shoulders, making his arms go numb and his bones creak.

The sword lights with the dark, rippling glow were like water seeping into sand. Though blocked by layers of his pressure-based Law, they quietly permeated the halo of light, like water finding its way into the cracks of a rock.

Each contact silently ate away at the foundation of his Power of Law.

The dark-gray halo around Uerk’s body thinned at a visible rate. The area of pressure continuously shrank inward, like an earthen wall being eroded layer by layer by a relentless tide.

He was like a great beast trapped in an iron cage, possessing immense brute strength but no way to use it. Every struggle only earned him more wounds.

Ska’s eyes were filled with shock and doubt.

’Anton, fighting one against two, isn’t just holding his own—he cleanly killed Zul in an incredibly short time and is now suppressing Uerk to the point where he can’t even fight back.’

’This is a complete and utter rout!’

’How can the gap between peak Legends of the same level be this huge?’

’It makes no sense!’

If not for the fact that Anton’s control over his Law hadn’t yet reached the point of influencing the world around him, Ska would have suspected he had already advanced to become a Saint.

In the instant that thought flashed through Ska’s mind, a dull whoosh suddenly sounded in the sky.

A murky yellow sword light slipped through a gap in Uerk’s defenses, heading straight for his heart.

At the critical moment, Uerk used his Power of Law to slow the sword light for an instant, allowing him to jerk his body to the side and avoid a fatal blow.

But the sword light immediately pierced through his right chest.

The immense force sent him plummeting downward. He barely managed to twist his body in mid-air to avoid smashing directly into the ruins.

But the moment his feet touched the ground, his knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed.

Blood gushed from the wound in his right chest, staining half his torso red.

Even for a peak Legendary Beastman with tenacious Life Force, a wound this severe meant losing most of his combat ability.

And high above, countless streams of sword light had already changed direction and were now diving toward him like a flock of hunting hawks.

Uerk looked up, intense and uncontrollable fear rising in his eyes.

"Lord Ska, save me!"

His shrill, desperate shriek tore through the din of the battlefield.

In the next instant, Ska appeared out of thin air in front of Uerk and raised a hand, grasping at the void.

In that moment, countless blood-red threads, as fine as hairs, erupted from his fingertips. They spread and interwove in mid-air like living things, forming an impenetrable net.

The moment the dense swarm of sword light struck the bloody net, it was as if they had hit a thick sheet of leather soaked in blood. They were stopped dead in their tracks.

The sword lights instantly retreated, flying back to reform a slowly rotating golden halo at Anton’s side.

Anton narrowed his eyes, his gaze piercing through the bloody net and the dust to land on Ska.

"The Red Tide Law."

Ska, who was slowly retracting his hand, paused for a moment. An undisguised look of surprise flashed in his eyes.

His Red Tide Law was extremely rare.

Even Saints from the five major powers with their long histories might not recognize it on sight.

But this Elf before him had named the Red Tide Law after just a single glance.

’That level of knowledge is no small thing.’

For the first time, a look of genuine scrutiny entered Ska’s eyes as he looked at Anton.

He realized he had underestimated Anton from the very beginning.

Whether it was the overwhelming power to crush two peak Legends at once, or his extraordinary insight and knowledge, it all proved that this Fallen Dragon Sword Saint was far more unfathomable than the rumors suggested.

Anton was also sizing up Ska.

The Red Tide Law was a mid-tier Law of the "Fantasy" category.

Its core was simple: the manipulation of blood.

But unlike many Laws that directly affected the blood of others, the Red Tide Law was strictly limited to manipulating the Caster’s own blood.

Because of this, it achieved an almost supreme level of internalized precision.

The user could make microscopic adjustments to the form and properties of their externalized blood, turning it into extended limbs, ever-changing weapons, or even shaping it into the forms of various legendary creatures.

In short, it allowed one’s blood to become a tide, transforming according to one’s will.

This was also a common characteristic of Fantasy-type Laws.

They mostly operated as "self-defined Laws," based on the user’s own perception and belief.

They were, in essence, subjective.

Furthermore, the ease with which Ska had blocked his last attack was proof of how powerful he was.

Far beyond the peak Legendary Tier—a genuine Saint-level powerhouse!

A Saint, at his peak, who had mastered a mid-tier Fantasy-type Law!

This was, without a doubt, the most powerful opponent Anton had ever faced.