Overgeared

‘How do we kill him?’

Faker was reminded of the strength of the cultivators now that he was watching Braham fight one of them. They used offensive skills, as well as defensive ones. Unlike normal defensive skills, the shields of the cultivators allowed them to move and act with no restrictions. One could almost say those shields resembled a dragon’s Absolute Defense, though that was a bit of an exaggeration.

Even though they had shields deployed, the cultivators were able to move and attack freely. A cultivator wasn’t restricted by anything when their shield was up. The shield also counterattacked while defending against enemy attacks, making the fight rather one-sided. Of course, doing this required a lot of spiritual energy.

Faker had learned a voice-based technique from a Full Moon Fortress destroyed four days earlier and succeeded in condensing a spiritual root. He understood how these shields worked. He was certain that no cultivator could keep them up forever.

However, the white-haired cultivator currently fighting Braham was an Absolute. Surely, he possessed an unimaginable amount of spiritual energy. It wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to keep activating his shields throughout the battle.

In fact, the white-haired man had had his protective shield activated ever since Braham hit him in the forehead with the staff. Since the power of a cultivator’s shield was proportional to their realm level, the shield was able to withstand even the barrage of Disintegrate.

“You can’t use Quasar anymore?”

[Not for two more days. To activate Quasar, it takes a lot of time to modify the structure of the mana core. It’s impossible to use Memorize on it and the side effects are quite considerable.]

Considering how strong of an ability Quasar was, the two days cooldown time was relatively short. Though it was a shame, considering the situation they were in.

Braham’s Mana Shield flickered. The vivid blue magic faded and became dark. It couldn’t withstand the power of the techniques flying non-stop from the white-haired, dark-skinned man.

The man handled too many attributes. He could freeze the target, pour hot water on them, burn them, create a storm to damage them, stun them, crush them by applying substantial pressure, and so on.

Colorful techniques exploded against Braham’s shield, systematically weakening it, to the point where Braham needed to respond by changing the attributes of the shield accordingly. In other words, it was a high-speed battle that an average person couldn’t keep up with, because Braham changed the attribute of his shield every 0.1 seconds.

Faker was a Transcendent who could win a battle with his high insight and quick decision-making, but he couldn’t really keep up with what was occurring in a battle between Absolutes, since everything was happening too fast for him to see.

The battle between the Absolutes, who deployed spells and techniques, or activated artifacts and orbs, was on a different level.

The battlefield that Braham had restored was being devastated again. Braham’s spells and the white-haired man’s techniques repeatedly changed nature and caused disasters, such as the grassland becoming a snowy field before being swept away by a tsunami, or an active volcano suddenly rising before turning into ashes and disappearing.

After a few more exchanges, Braham glanced at Faker.

[Join the resurrected personnel and move to the next Full Moon Fortress.]

“Right.”

Faker was cool-headed. He wasn’t a talkative person, so he immediately turned around. But the gray-haired man mocked him as he was about to leave.

“Give up any hope that you will survive. This battle will be over soon anyway. You are destined to die. It will only be a hassle for both of you if you keep dragging this out unnecessarily.”

Faker couldn’t move. It was as if he was nailed to the air. Maybe some technique was at work. Braham noticed this and cast the Cure spell.

the formation, turned into a shadow and left. The white-haired man glared at the spot where Faker had just

he’s the type of person who easily abandons his

of our conversation? You are quite incompetent.

in having a conversation with

dismissed

he was a warrior or a magician, was an experienced fighter. However, this meant nothing to

man hadn’t been able to confront a group of experienced fighters was tens

the man’s cultivation was only at the core formation realm. Now, he had reached the end of his cultivation—the peak of great ascension. It was the highest realm that human beings could reach. In other words, he could become an immortal at

of thousands of years

Whoosh!

the Ten Thousand Wheels One Thousand

ever-present Mana Drain was on the verge of failing. He lost control of his mana and his eyes widened as he saw

covered in wounds. There

fine. He’d been blocking Braham’s counter spells with shields and defensive orbs. He swung a knife large enough to cut off a bull’s head. He decapitated Braham and blood spilled out like from

Wheels One Thousand Wings

a technique book. He stained his hands and arms with filthy blood by doing

“Um...?”

by one when he cocked his head. He realized that he couldn’t really feel his

Wriggle.

Braham’s body was moving like a living worm. The color gradually faded like it

“A blood technique?”

of others. What the cultivators had in common was that their blood, not the soul, was their

a bad feeling and hurriedly shoved away the corpse he was holding, but it was too late. Braham’s blood had already made its way into the man’s

He coughed, and blood spilled from his seven orifices. He was experiencing pain on

force of a great

“K-Kuoock...!”

was hammering in his chest, beating at a rate of more than a thousand times per second, and

Such a

the best cultivator of the middle world, after tens of thousands of years of combat, the white-haired man’s

could ever be in danger of dying. Even so, he was cautious and was mindful of wild cards and unexpected situations that might

cautiousness held him back, and now he was having this dilemma. He didn’t know if he

self for not ascending to the upper world earlier. He

strength of your blood... To train it this much... How

of exploding. He

had to let his nascent soul escape. Giving up

speaking nonsense

space. Braham appeared before the white-haired man’s eyes, and he was in a much better state. Blood rose like vines from his severed neck, tangling until it morphed into healthy body