Knights and Magic Wand -
Chapter 495 - 495 234 Death
495: Chapter 234 Death 495: Chapter 234 Death The overwhelming impact, capable of splitting mountains and shattering boulders, cut through the forest like carving out a path.
Using the recoil of the swiftly unleashed Wind Hammer, Leon’s semi-airborne body crashed to the ground, his legs dragging through the muddy dirt.
Only after he plunged the gunblade of the Molten Flame deep into the earth, extinguishing its power, did his retreating momentum finally come to a halt.
His blood boiled as he panted heavily, the Garner, which had borne the brunt of a frontal strike, quivered relentlessly in his grasp.
Leon’s heart pounded wildly, and he could scarcely maintain his grip on the trembling weapon.
“Hmph…”
A low hum came from ahead.
Leon quickly sprang to his feet, adjusting his ragged breathing and relaxing his taut muscles.
He angled his spear in readiness, focusing intently on what stood before him—
A foe that, since his journey across worlds, represented the most perilous enemy he had ever faced.
Through the veil of dust, the Peacock Knight, wielding a massive scythe-like blade, approached at a steady pace.
“Mighty weapon indeed…
And you’re quite formidable, young man.
Your performance has outstripped my expectations; I truly thought you wouldn’t parry that strike…”
The Old Earl spoke with interest, studying the sudden surge in Leon’s strength.
He speculated, saying, “…Let me guess, Dawson’s necklace must now be in your hands?”
“Dawson?”
Hearing this name, absent from his ears for so long, Leon was momentarily stunned.
He had assumed the opponent’s mention of his slain son-in-law referred to one of the Lion Scorpion Knights he had vanquished.
Never did he expect that the name referred to that beast who had once massacred Selva.
“The Poison Snake Baron of Leding Castle, Dawson Kasoles, was your son-in-law?”
“Indeed.
So, it seems the ballads were earnest in their depictions,” Count Arsene nodded from afar.
“I’ve seen you as a knight of considerable demeanor.
Never would I have expected you to take that despicable serpent as your son-in-law.
Do you even know why Dawson met his end?” Leon did not waste effort denying anything; instead, he sought to buy some precious moments to recover.
Upon hearing this, the Peacock Knight lowered his blade, pivoting it to a two-handed grip as he shook his head toward Leon:
“Don’t misunderstand, Lord Pendragon.
I bear you no grudge.
In truth, Dawson and I also had little interaction for many years.”
Even as he spoke, he shifted into a bow-legged stance and held the massive blade at an angle, squaring off with Leon from a distance.
“Yet, since he wed my pitiful illegitimate daughter, looked after her for years—albeit for the wealth I provided him—now that he’s dead and his kin annihilated, it falls upon me to settle the karma of this bond.
If you wish to hate me, go ahead and hate me.
My blade has claimed countless lives; one more resentful soul makes little difference.”
Leon couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh upon hearing this:
“What right do I have to hate you…
I’ve felled no shortage of Knights of Kantadar myself.
As fellow killers, dying on the battlefield due to inferior skills leaves little to complain about.”
As his words fell, he raised his eyes, letting his gaze pass over the knight before him.
Seeing the charging Death Claw approach, a flicker of hope rose in Leon’s heart, only for multiple Scorpion-tailed Lions to suddenly swoop down from above, pouncing toward his Griffin companion.
With thunderous crashes, the beasts, along with the Knights of Kantadar riding them, completely surrounded the isolated Griffin in the forest.
“Haha…
Such admirable awareness.
Killers being killed—isn’t it only natural?
And to perish on the battlefield, well, that’s the finest end for those like us warriors.”
The Old Earl, focusing solely on the knight before him, paid no heed to the commotion behind him.
He merely let out a hearty laugh: “Since you’re so open-minded, let you and I battle to our hearts’ content!”
—Boom!!!
The ground quaked as the Great Knight surged forward, a shockwave of air pressure barreling toward his target.
Leon’s eyes sharpened in concentration.
Even with the enhancement of his Boiling Heart artifact, he barely caught a fleeting glimpse of the charging figure.
This terrifying speed, swifter than a flying arrow—Leon had only ever seen it in Olivia.
Irresistible.
Another strike would render him defenseless.
Even if the Garner could endure it, his own hands would not.
Handing his combat instincts over fully to reflexes, the Griffin Knight suddenly stomped backward, propelling himself into retreat.
Yet, the direct slash he couldn’t entirely evade merely grazed the gunblade he instinctively raised to guard, and the weapon itself crashed into the ground, as though struck down by a giant dragon.
Amid flying rubble and scattering sand, before Leon could reclaim his weapon, the Peacock Knight’s missed slash transitioned without pause into a sweeping horizontal strike.
The solid gale pressure roared fiercely as Leon widened his eyes, sensing the raw Magic Element erupting from his opponent’s body.
This immense energy, akin to storms and blades, blasted along the arc of the great blade’s spin.
Leon had no choice but to unleash the magic power he had originally been conserving.
Letting out a roar, he swung the tail of his magic spear, forcing Garner’s gunblade into a violent arc.
The Wind Hammer Technique turned magic power into a spiraling tempest, colliding head-on with the pure force of the Great Knight’s strike.
Thunderous explosions echoed as shockwaves uprooted the surrounding trees entirely.
Leon offered no resistance to the impact’s force, allowing it to hurl him backward and widen the distance between them.
“Impressive power!
The Northern Wizards are surely more intriguing than the Southern Country’s Wizards,” Count Arsene’s boisterous laughter carried, yet slower than his advancing steps.
The Peacock Knight shifted forward with a stride, his ostensibly weightless massive blade swinging in fluid continuity, shadowing the knight who had not yet landed.
But just as his upward slash had barely begun to take form—
He discovered with sudden clarity that the young man had twisted his body mid-air, the gunblade stabbing toward the vulnerable gap in his faceplate like a coiling dragon.
Tilting his blade with precision, Arsene gave the spear a dismissive slap, deflecting the weapon that seemed to have anticipated his position.
Yet, just as he prepared to lower his great blade, turning its edge in a follow-up counterstrike—
He was astonished to see the deflected gunblade rotating alongside Leon’s spinning body, carving an arc like a graceful swallow, instantly surging toward his faceplate from the opposite side.
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