Above The Sky
Chapter 131 - 131 123 Deathly Poison 24

131: Chapter 123 Deathly Poison (2/4) 131: Chapter 123 Deathly Poison (2/4) Clang clang clang clang clang—The sound of Ian Vargas’s blade clashing against the bonelike iron rang out incessantly, as the Apprentice and the Knight fiercely battled.

One side kept retreating in defense while the other kept advancing to attack, yet they managed to maintain a rather even match.

“Does his strength never run out?”

The enemy’s sword strikes were heavier one after another, a strength far surpassing that of ordinary Magical Beasts; the youth already felt numbness in his palms and arms, and an extreme soreness was spreading throughout his body: “Just swinging a sword with one hand makes it difficult for me, wielding with both, to parry!”

Having not seen the enemy tire after a long time, the youth couldn’t help but reflect, “After battling the mentor for a long while, having an arm and part of the internal organs severed, followed by being struck by lightning, and consuming a large amount of Source Essence Condensed Armor, he could still cross swords with me for this long!”

A Sublimator of the earth, are they truly this resilient?!

But what was more astonishing was Weyges.

“What sort of monster is this?!

Even if I am severely injured, an ordinary First Energy Level would absolutely have no chance of catching my sword!”

Although his eyes were destroyed, the Knight still remembered the appearance of the opponent—a male child of the White Folks around ten years old, merely.

Even if he were a genius talent who had completed his training as a Sand Armor Apprentice before reaching puberty, he couldn’t possibly have such abundant physical strength and skill to block his continuous sword attacks.

“Could it be that he is not only uniquely gifted in his cultivation of Sublimation, but also has exceptional potential in martial skills?”

His current feeling, aside from being incredulous, was also a complex one, composed of admiration, jealousy, and sudden realization: “No wonder…

no wonder the mentor, with his time running out, insisted on taking him as a disciple despite his own physical condition…”

“No wonder the mentor…

was willing to give his life for him.”

But…

I can do the same!

In the eye sockets of the bone armor headpiece, two faint white flames ignited; a thick, black-red bodily fluid leaked out, resembling tears of blood.

In that moment, the aqua brilliance in Ian’s eyes who was also activating his Spirit Energy flickered slightly when he saw Weyges thrust a diagonal sword strike toward his chest, then he raised his sword to block.

But at that instant, he perceived an extreme sense of danger.

Weyges’s thrust was merely a feint; once blocked by Ian’s sword, he drew an arc around the range of the longsword’s defense, then aimed a stab at the wide-open chest of the youth.

This was impossible, because had Ian not decided at the last second to retract and defend, he could have followed through with a horizontal slash, hitting Weyges right at the most vulnerable spot on his armored body—the right shoulder—and tearing through his ribs and lungs.

Gambling?

How could that be…

This is, mind-reading!

“Weyges can hear thoughts!”

Shocked by the realization, Ian had known about this but hadn’t expected that the precision of mind-reading could be so high that it could grasp even his subconscious—earlier, he hadn’t even thought about it, he just instinctively blocked!

But now, it was too late for any response; the Knight’s stabbing sword had already reached his chest, only a layer of thin clothing away from his heart, the flesh and blood of his body, and his yet to be fully developed bone plate.

Yet, the bone blade did not pierce through that layer of clothing.

Thump!

As if he had struck something incredibly tough, Ian’s body flew backwards, rolling awkwardly several times on the ground—still holding the Blunt Greatsword in his hand, and upon completing the force dissipation, he stood up right away and again adopted a stance ready for confrontation.

“I’m not dead?”

The youth thought in astonishment.

He felt that at the least, he should have been pierced all the way through, then skewered into a human-shaped meat stick by Weyges…

It was going to be a scenario like that, he didn’t have time to think it through.

He looked down at his chest, pain following immediately—his chest bones were shattered, and his rock-hard flesh and skin as a Sand Armor Apprentice were also smashed.

Right now, under his clothing, it must have been a messy mixture of blood and shattered bones.

But his heart remained intact, just jolted a bit, with slight myocardial ischemia and arrhythmias.

“Cough cough.” Suddenly, Ian spat out blood—he had bitten off a small piece of his tongue when Weyges’s sword ‘smashed’ into him…

but this pain, along with the excruciating warning his entire body was giving off, a kind of indescribable sour numbness, couldn’t be compared.

Even if he hadn’t died, his body had reached its limit.

On the other side, Weyges, trembling all over from the backlash of his Spirit Energy, was also blankly sensing the touch from the bone blade in his left hand.

He felt that he surely could have pierced through that overly talented brother in one strike.

But…

“Dragon skin…”

The Knight spoke in a hoarse, excessively dry voice, unbelievably lifting his head, ‘looking’ in Ian’s direction, his tone full of shock and disbelief: “The mentor disassembled his own True Steel Dragon Skin Cloak…

to make clothes for you?!”

Jealousy?

Or resentful hatred?

It was not just that…

it was more like a sort of choking frustration.

Wait—

Amid his turbulent thoughts, Weyges sensed that, apart from the dragon skin, the Flesh and Blood and bones of the White Folks’ young boy were excessively hard.

——Oh.

Only then did the man realize.

That child…

had already been able to activate his Sand Armor, having condensed three Sublimation Organs…

This was not something that could be simply assembled with talent and resources.

It was something that could only be condensed, only be sublimated through sweat and tears, with all one’s heart and soul.

Compared to these, his failure to land a hit, Ian’s survival, it was all a trivial matter.

“What a genius…

What effort.

You truly are strong.”

The man’s tone was not one of jealousy or loss, but one of sudden realization, an epiphany.

He finally understood something.

In Ian’s eyes, the fog symbolizing threat and danger around Weyges grew thicker, enveloping him entirely like a lightning fog, turning the white Armored Clothing into a deadly black and red.

Whether for him or for himself.

The other party had also reached his limit.

——The final battle was imminent.

The young boy was also very clear about his current physical state.

His arm muscles were torn, his breastbone suffered comminuted fractures, his heart trembled, his strength was nearly exhausted, his legs were about to give way, and the backlash from the Spirit Energy left the boy dizzy, barely able to see the area where the Knight stood.

——He had reached his limit.

Ian turned his head towards where Hiliard was, the old man was struggling to stand up.

He seemed to be saying something, perhaps asking him to come, to continue this unfinished battle between mentor and Apprentice.

But how could that be?

Hiliard’s physical condition was even worse than his own; he was merely a breath away from death.

He had to fight…

whether for his teacher, for himself, or for Elan far away in Harrison Port.

No one could guarantee that Weyges, who was already near madness, would spare a child of a few years — he might, but why trust an enemy?

“Mind reading…”

Muttering to himself and forcing his thoughts through sheer will, Ian gathered his spirits, pondering how to deal with the enemy’s most troublesome ability: “If not for that mind reading, I might have lasted until he ran out of energy first…”

Clearly, because of the loss of his senses of sight, hearing, smell, and touch, Weyges had an extreme desire for the auditory, causing his Spirit Energy to erupt further, even Ian’s instinctual reactions were being spied upon.

This was already the pinnacle, no stronger mind reading could exist, it could only possess additional functions.

How to deal with such Spirit Energy and overwhelming strength?

“Only by…

completely giving up on thinking.”

Having a moment of clarity, Ian took out a seed from his Huai: “Only an even greater power, much more powerful than now.”

He clenched the Sumo Liquor Tree Seed in his palm.

After the war with the Natives two years ago, Ian did not sell the few Sumo Liquor Tree Seeds to the drugstore; he was not short of money, rather he lacked such special Sublimation Plants for research material.

After several failed Alchemy extractions, he was down to the last one from the original six seeds.

Ian placed it in his mouth and chewed.

The almond-like seed released a long-settled, overly rich aroma, which after being chewed, spread throughout, mixing a scent of sweet and bitter, like a potent poison.

This indeed was poison—the Natives’ Berserkers used this poison to arm their bloodthirsty beasts, once swallowed, one would become an unfeeling War machine.

And then die.

Ian had always been rational, it was a necessary choice, he neither hesitated nor regretted it, especially since he was a Sublimator, not an Ordinary Native.

“Can’t win, I die; eat, and probably die; the choice is all too easy.”

So he swallowed the poison named death, letting the intoxicating essence spread through his body.

So he raised his sword again.

Standing before his enemy.

Standing before his loved ones.