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.

a shadow and left. The white-haired man glared at the

abandons his master. I’m familiar

incompetent. Maybe

in having a conversation with someone as

white-haired man dismissed the whole

to win this fight. The bizarre person in front of him, regardless of whether he was a

a group of experienced fighters was tens of thousands of years

reach. In other words, he could become an immortal at any time. He’d only stayed in the human world and continued

man he used to be tens of thousands of years ago, he was unrecognizable now. There

Whoosh!

Ten Thousand Wheels One Thousand

area. Braham’s ever-present Mana Drain was on the verge of failing. He lost control of his mana and his eyes widened as he saw thousands of techniques and

Shields broke one after another as the attacks slammed into them without pause. Braham was covered in wounds. There was a huge hole in his chest and his limbs were either

defensive orbs. He swung a knife large enough to cut off a

One

book. He stained his hands and arms with filthy blood by doing this, but he still took it. He could use a technique

“Um...?”

of taking out unfamiliar objects from Braham’s pockets and investigating them one by one when he cocked his head. He realized that he couldn’t really feel his fingertips that well anymore. The man’s face slowly turned pale

Wriggle.

moving like a living worm. The color gradually faded like it was seeping into the man’s

“A blood technique?”

others. What the cultivators had in common was that

was holding, but it was too late. Braham’s blood had already made its way

blood spilled from his seven orifices. He was experiencing pain on a level he didn’t

in pain. The life force of a great ascension cultivator was

“K-Kuoock...!”

a rate of more than a thousand times per second, and that rate was

this...? Such a

had become the best cultivator of the middle world, after tens of thousands of years of combat, the white-haired man’s pride was greater than that of an ordinary

of dying. Even so, he was cautious and was mindful of wild cards and unexpected situations that might occur in the upper world. This was why he had been obsessed

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

man started to resent his past self for not ascending to the upper world earlier. He was experiencing a

much... How many humans did

verge of exploding. He couldn’t even control

nascent soul escape. Giving up on this body would cost

speaking nonsense

a much better state. Blood rose like vines from his severed neck,