Black Sail
Chapter 55: LV. Killing Intent

Chapter 55: LV. Killing Intent

The storm raged on as if the celestial river had been turned upside down.

The trajectory of the flying dagger was as erratic as a meandering snake, devoid of any pattern.

Morison had gotten in close, and his long sword was at a significant disadvantage.

Zahak had no choice but to use this undesirable tactic, reversing his grip on the sword and quickly parrying with the hilt forged from mysterious steel.

Amidst quick movements and nimble dodges, short weapons clashed and sparks flew, only to be extinguished by the raindrops.

With a loud bang.

Morison was at a loss, his dagger was flung into a tree, piercing a hole in it instantly.

Just as Zahak thought he had the upper hand, as he reversed his sword to slash, Morison had already vanished from his line of sight.

At some point, Morison had sprung a sharp blade from the front of his boot, braced himself on the ground with one hand, and savagely kicked diagonally upwards from the ground towards Zahak’s side waist. It seemed as though he had concentrated all his energy to the extreme, tearing through the air with a fierce wind, which would have inflicted severe injury or death if it had hit its mark.

Zahak raised an eyebrow, surprised that a human could perform such an act. He angled his sword in defense to offset the force, as the blade scraped against the tip of the boot with a harsh noise.

The attack missed, and Morison used the momentum to flip backward and vault into the air, unleashing three flying knives in quick succession, shattering the curtain of rain, impossible to defend against.

Even Zahak managed to deflect only two, the last blade grazed by his head, slicing off a lock of hair.

Lightning split the clouds.

In a moment, day turned into night.

The half of Morison’s disfigured face was terrifyingly illuminated by the flash of lightning.

He drew a whip blade from his waist, and in the dim light of the rainy night, the overlapping, gleaming blades radiated a coldness akin to a bloodthirsty snake.

Zahak’s breathing became slightly erratic, but he quickly steadied himself, his gaze calm. Flying knives, a blade springing from the boot, a whip—the array of this man’s weapons was truly unconventional. Standard equipment was strapped to his body without exception, creating an eerily strange effect.

Blood-red sword energy surged forth, with thirteen swift strikes, each powerful and unstoppable.

Clang, clang, clang...

Morison maneuvered the whip blade, wildly waving it as though dozens of white serpents bit and entangled in mid-air, creating a cutting storm. In an instant, the blood-red sword light vanished without a trace in the clash of steel, and the surrounding rain shattered.

Morison pulled back on the whip blade, which coiled around his iron-armored forearm in an instant.

A feat of remarkable skill.

Zahak, desperate for victory, drew his red long sword across the ground. The sword energy tore the earth asunder, flinging numerous stones and clods of earth, obscuring Morison’s vision.

But Zahak did not wait to make his move.

It was hard to imagine how much equipment Morison was carrying; mechanisms like folding fans at his elbows snapped open, revealing chilling Wing Blades, which he crossed and yanked in a sweeping motion. The fan-shaped blades sent the stones hurtling back at Zahak before snapping back into their concealed positions in an instant.

Moreover.

Over twenty Flying Knives sprang from the torn hem of Morison’s tattered crocodile coat. As he violently pulled at the coat, the blades burst forth like a peacock’s plumage.

Stones and knives, like stormy bursts of pear blossoms, ripped through the torrential rain straight towards Zahak, and that was not all. A fusillade of Crossbow Arrows shot from his arms, pushing Zahak to the brink of desperation.

Countless flashy Hidden Weapons swirled chaotically and rained down, but Zahak countered with a mighty slash.

This one slash.

The sword energy was furious, blowing away all the stones and breaking all incoming steel in two, even splitting metal in half.

Zahak knew he could not allow this man with the disfigured face to drag on the fight; his own strength would slowly be worn down.

Although it seemed easy, the power behind Morison’s disfigured face was absurdly strong; each Hidden Weapon’s force was comparable to that of a Bed Crossbow, and blocking each one drained a considerable amount of his energy.

Fortunately, it was all junk metal. Had it been infused with Magic Energy like his own sword, Zahak dared not think of the consequences.

He had to end the battle swiftly. Not just here, but Lavender Town’s front also had to hold. He must quickly reinforce his position. Zahak’s pristine white military officer’s uniform flashed into a blur as he charged forward with lethal intent.

Morison wouldn’t give him the chance, immediately drawing his whip blade again.

Zahak’s legs generated wind, bounding swiftly through the curtain of rain. His sword’s blood-red mists stretched into a light trail, ready to withstand the cutting storm.

But...

Crack!

Morison’s whip blade pierced directly into a tree, and just as Zahak began to suspect something, the whip blade burst out of the tree with a wickedly curved arc, striking like a venomous snake.

"What?"

Zahak couldn’t believe it; this disfigured face technique was so bizarre it bordered on demonic, with no past experience to draw on, making it impossible to predict the direction of the attack.

In such a scenario, there was no way he could muster his full strength for defense.

But with his distorted reflexes, he managed to somewhat forcibly raise his sword with less than half his usual strength to block the attack, his body knocked back two to three meters.

Morison instantly retracted the whip blade.

Just when Zahak thought Morison would continue with that weird arc piercing, Morison instead drew out his whip and maximized his speed.

In an instant, numerous crisp whip cracks exploded, and taking advantage of the heavy rain, thousands of tree leaves fell piercingly from above Zahak’s head.

Compared to the splattering stones and mud around Zahak.

These myriad leaves instantly obscured Zahak’s vision, and at that moment, his hearing was also disturbed by the downpour.

Life and death were just moments apart.

Zahak shut his eyes, recalling the words once spoken by the Sword King, about tracking everything through the breeze.

With a backhand flick, he deflected the whip blade slashing down from the sky.

Morison had already drawn two fine-blade short swords from his leg guards, one in each hand, and took advantage of the leaves obstructing Zahak to leap up and unleash a ferocious slash.

Suddenly, Zahak’s eyes snapped open, his body’s qi exploding forth, blocking one slash with his sword in his right hand, while his other hand drew out the scabbard, catching Morison off-guard with an upward sweep, sending the other short sword spinning into the air.

A fierce grin spread across Morison’s horrifying face; Zahak sensed danger but it was too late to evade, as Morison flicked a pointed knife from his sleeve, aiming it straight at Zahak’s neck.

Crack!

Morison retreated more than ten meters, looking at Zahak with relish.

Zahak’s neck wasn’t injured, he moved away in time, but a horizontal gash across his left cheek started to bleed, soon carving out a ghastly furrow as thick as a finger, blood flowing endlessly, quickly washed away by the heavy rain, leaving behind only the torn flesh as a permanent mark.

Morison was in no hurry, now with the heavy downpour, as long as Zahak didn’t get away, no one could stand against that monstrous-power merfolk, alone he was an army.

"With your skills, how do you even manage to eat?"

Morison held out his sleeve sword in midair, letting the raindrops erase the bloodstains, before swiftly retracting it, taunting Zahak, messing with his mind.

In fact, it was only Zahak who wouldn’t get provoked; anyone else would have died a hundred times over in the face of Morison’s cunning attacks.

"Likewise, your acrobatics aren’t bad either."

Zahak sheathed his sword, setting up his stance for drawing it.

"Oh?" Morison didn’t outright deny it, the so-called disciple of the Sword King, the Constitutional Soldier Vice Admiral, had some skill worthy of the stage, but that was it, "If that’s the case, then... let’s go a bit more serious."

Boom!

A thunderbolt exploded on the horizon, and in an instant, the winds grew wilder, the rain intensified.

An unmatched killing intent arrived, the premonition of imminent death felt like a spell piercing the soul, evoking extreme fear straight through the mind, yet there was no fluctuation of spell power.

It was just an ultimate ruthless intent to kill spreading and surging wildly.

Zahak was taken aback, finally understanding the reason for the horse’s panic, forcibly calming his mind.

"Prepare yourself, I plan to... kill you within ten seconds."

With those words from Morison.

That skill.

Far too

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