novelhk Chapter 489, Page 498: The Broken Cycle 8
Chapter 489, Page 498: The Broken Cycle 8
Chapter 489, Page 498: The Broken Cycle 8
Saruman felt himself being overwhelmed by the crazy conjecture in his mind.
King Arthur! Merlin! Knights of the Round Table!
That was a legendary era that had long been shrouded in mythology by time, and was vague and difficult to distinguish between truth and falsehood even in orthodox magical history records.
Most detailed records of that era were destroyed by war, religious purges, or simply exaggerated poems by bards. Only forgotten, forbidden corners like "The Raven's Lair" remain.
Only then could a few words remain.
And he, Saruman, because he had integrated the forbidden knowledge he had accumulated over a thousand years in his old age, had a far greater, albeit still fragmented, understanding of that era than ordinary people!
In those fragmented pieces of knowledge, Merlin is described as a demigod, possessing unfathomable power, boundless wisdom, mastery of almost all magical domains, the ability to foresee the future, and communication with nature and dragons. He served King Arthur, ushering in a glorious but short-lived era.
King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table are said to possess a unique and extraordinary power known as "Holy Radiance" or "The Way of the Knights."
Unlike the magic systems of modern wizards that rely on wands, spells, and mental power, it places greater emphasis on the combination of belief, honor, the physical body, and some kind of mysterious energy.
It is said that when cultivated to its peak, it is enough to slay demons and dragons, and even contend with powerful wizards. Now, the boy before us, named Ian Prince, displays multiple characteristics that may be related to that era:
Unfathomable, timeless magical power, which matches the description of Merlin's power.
He knew King Arthur and seemed to have a close relationship with him, mentioning him casually in a relaxed tone.
He showed great interest in Kag's "battle aura," which he suspected was a variant or branch of the knight's extraordinary power, and he himself possessed incredibly exquisite swordsmanship.
This is also a signature skill of knights, which most wizards would not bother to learn. They only know that Merlin and King Arthur might learn it when they are friends together.
In addition, the other party appears young but possesses the gravitas of an ancient being, and legend has it that Merlin can also remain young or live forever.
These clues, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, rapidly pieced together in Saruman's mind, enhanced by millennia of knowledge. A conclusion that even he himself found chilling was about to emerge—could it be—Ian Prim was the legendary archmage—Merlin himself?! Or perhaps, Merlin's direct descendant, or even some special incarnation?! Only in this way could one explain why he was so powerful, so learned, so "young," yet connected to the era of King Arthur!
"Merlin! It really is Merlin!"
Saruman felt his heart pounding wildly, his blood rushing to his head. He tried to recall fragments of descriptions of Merlin's appearance from his older memories—unfortunately, most of those accounts were vague; some said he was an old man with white hair and a long beard, others said he could change his appearance.
Some descriptions are not provided at all. The only certainty is that Merlin was a male wizard.
Ian Prince. Male. Wizard — Young and handsome — It seems — that matches up? After all, Merlin's image in legends is quite varied.
"What a waste of this knowledge—" Saruman suddenly felt a surge of absurd self-mockery. He had inherited the wisdom of a thousand years of exploration, and his first act of application was to "verify" the true identity of this person before him, who might be a mythical figure? And at a time when this person could easily crush him, his companions were fighting desperately, and the environment was extremely dangerous?
The divergent and unconventional thinking of young people, compared to the ancient souls of the past, is vividly displayed at this moment.
Fear, shock, curiosity, and a strange excitement—a feeling that "I might be witnessing live history"—were all mixed together, making him waver. He forced himself to pull some of his attention away from his shocking conjecture and focus on the battle before him. Kag was still fighting desperately.
He couldn't completely immerse himself in his own imagination. Meanwhile, the battle in the distance, or rather, the battle of learning from others and receiving feedback, had entered a new phase.
"Aaaaah! Don't you dare humiliate me like that!! You bastard!!!" Kag's roar and the whistling of the sword were the only intense sounds in this eerie space.
He was completely immersed in the battle, forgetting his fear and the fact that his opponent might be an invincible legend. All that remained was the warrior's instinct—to defeat the opponent before him!
His greatsword moved with tremendous force, crimson battle aura sometimes gathering at the blade to enhance its power, and sometimes erupting around him to boost his defense and speed. He brought his lifelong battlefield swordsmanship to its peak, his attacks wide and powerful, ruthless and fierce, each strike carrying a tragic momentum of mutual destruction.
"I am the warrior!" Kag knew that his skills might not be as refined as his opponent's, so he would make up for it with strength, momentum, and a determination to perish together!
"I know you're a warrior, but I am the Sword Saint of Hogwarts." However, Ian still seemed to handle the storm of attacks with ease. The ordinary longsword in his hands seemed to have a life of its own, always able to accurately block, deflect, and deflect Kag's heavy blows with minimal effort and minimal range.
His steps were light and unpredictable, like dancing on the edge of a knife, always managing to dodge the giant sword at the last second.
Why are you playing me like this?!
Hogwarts, Sword Saint—Kager didn't care about any of that. Kager's roar echoed in the distorted crevice, carrying the madness of a warrior at his wit's end, a mixture of anger and despair.
Say something.
Kag did feel that Ian was humiliating him.
He was a soldier after all.
Even my brain is enough.
But they are not as flexible as wizards.
The remaining fighting spirit within him was completely ignited, and crimson flames almost burst forth from every pore of his body, turning him into a burning human torch.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh~"
The greatsword seemed to lose its weight in his hands, transforming into a crimson storm of destruction that poured down on Ian in the most savage and reckless manner!
There is no set pattern, only the ultimate expression of power and speed!
Each sword strike carried the illusion of cleaving through space itself, and the crimson aura blades even left brief burn marks on those slowly writhing, eerie color blocks.
"Respect me! I need respect!"
The soldiers roared, fighting for their dignity.
Kag abandoned all defense, pouring all his strength, will, and even life potential into this final, ferocious offensive. He knew that against such an opponent, any skill or defense was futile; only by pushing his attack to the extreme might he be able to touch the hem of his opponent's clothes before being crushed.
Only then can a sliver of dignity be preserved for the soldiers!
"That's impressive."
Faced with this frenzied attack, which resembled a volcanic eruption, Ian's figure became even more elusive. He was no longer confined to the exquisitely refined "Ian-style swordsmanship."
The ordinary longsword in his hand sometimes transforms into a gentle, silky touch, vibrating at a high frequency with extremely small amplitude, weakening and guiding the most violent impact force of the Kag Greatsword layer by layer in a harmless direction; at other times, it is fierce and unparalleled, the blade infused with magic power refined to the extreme, striking the key nodes of Kag's fighting aura with pinpoint accuracy.
I used magic as battle aura.
Actually, the effect is quite good.
Ian's attack caused the crimson flames to flicker unpredictably.
at the same time.
His gait also became unpredictable and erratic.
At times, she moved like a ghost, darting lightly through the gaps in the storm of blades in Kag, her clothes fluttering without stirring up even a ripple of energy.
At times, he was as solid as a rock. When Kag's most powerful slash came, he paused slightly, as if he had been "anchored" to the chaotic space for a moment. He blocked the mountain-splitting blow with his longsword. His body only sank slightly, but the "void" beneath his feet seemed to ripple outwards.
"This guy, this wizard—" What made Saruman, who was watching from afar, even more anxious was that Ian, while dealing with this ferocious attack, still had the leisure to carry out various "tests"!
As the saying goes, the bystander sees most of the game.
He saw Ian deliberately slow down a beat once, allowing Kag's sword to almost graz his nose, and then, at the last second, he turned to the side, extending his left index finger, the tip of which was surrounded by a very faint magical glow, and gently touched a spot under Kag's ribs that had been exposed by his full-force sword swing.
With a soft "poof," the crimson aura armor beneath Kag's ribs dented slightly. Although it failed to penetrate, it caused his blood to surge, momentarily halting his attack. Ian nodded thoughtfully, as if verifying some conjecture about the distribution and weaknesses of aura defenses.
On another occasion, instead of parrying or dodging Kag's powerful slash, Ian placed his longsword flat against the greatsword, his wrist vibrating rapidly at a peculiar frequency. A piercing, metallic whistling sound, like the friction of metal fatigue, emanated from the point of contact between the longsword and the greatsword.
"It's getting harder and harder! What's going on?!"
Kag felt as if the power in his sword was being channeled into a high-speed spinning millstone, rapidly "grinding" and consuming it, causing his sword to involuntarily deviate from its trajectory. Ian, on the other hand, took the opportunity to retreat, glancing at the almost imperceptible aura burn marks left on his longsword.
A knowing glint flashed in his eyes.
Saruman clearly captured it.
That's why they say it has to be a wizard's brain.
"He's analyzing Kag's fighting spirit characteristics! Testing its strength, resilience, and energy decay rate!" Saruman instantly understood Ian's intention.
My heart was filled with even greater horror.
This is hardly a battle.
This is clearly the most efficient and direct "real-world data collection"! Kag's all-out attack was nothing more than a series of data samples that could be tested and recorded at will in the eyes of the opponent!
"Kag! Watch out! He's testing you!" Saruman couldn't help but shout at the top of his lungs, trying to warn his companion who was enraged and almost out of his mind.
However, his voice sounded so faint amidst the turbulent energy and the clang of metal. Kag only heard the roar of his own blood coursing and his battle aura burning; he could no longer hear the shouts from the outside world. He simply, again and again, like a moth drawn to a flame, poured all his strength into that seemingly unattainable figure.
"Damn it! The sound propagation here is terrible! Magic can't amplify anything!" Saruman was extremely anxious, but found that there was nothing he could do. His magic power had not yet recovered from the previous depletion and the impact of the soul fusion, and his mental power was also disordered due to excessive shock and thinking.
Therefore, as Kag's teammate, he could only watch helplessly as Kag, like a trapped beast, futilely charged through the invisible net that Ian had carefully woven. Each outburst seemed to only allow the opponent to gather more information and gain a deeper understanding of the "battle aura" power system.
This feeling of powerlessness is more tormenting than facing death.
Just as Saruman was anxious and helpless, the situation on the field underwent a subtle change.
"I'm about to die! I'm burning out!"
Kag's relentless, all-out attack ultimately could not last.
His reserves of battle qi were already limited, and this reckless outburst only accelerated its depletion. The crimson flames began to dim and shrink at a visible rate, his sword swings became slower and more powerful, his breathing became heavy like a broken bellows, and sweat mixed with beads of blood seeping from under his skin due to excessive strain.
He was covered in blood.
And Ian seemed to have "collected" enough data. He no longer conducted various tests and dodges as frequently as before. Faced with Kag's clearly weakened attacks, his response became more — "conventional".
It was still that ordinary longsword, and the swordsmanship was still exquisite. But Saruman keenly noticed that Ian's movements had lost some of the sense of exploration and experimentation, and gained more of—pure "response" and "observation."
Ian no longer deliberately exposes weaknesses to lure attacks, nor does he use those strange force-dissipating or testing techniques.
He simply used the most concise and efficient methods—parrying, deflecting, and occasionally counterattacking—to neutralize Kag's increasingly feeble attacks. His gaze was more focused on Kag's sword-wielding posture, footwork, and the flow of his remaining battle aura, as if he were—reviewing? consolidating? or—
Saruman's heart sank.
A thought that seemed utterly absurd yet one he couldn't help but believe surfaced in his mind:
Could it be that this legend, in such a short time, has basically grasped the characteristics of Kag's fighting spirit and the essence of its swordsmanship, and is now entering a deeper stage of learning?
How to learn the "combat mindset" and "style" behind Kag's swordsmanship?
"Even if it's Merlin, this is way too much!"
This hexagonal talent not only drove Saruman to despair.
It made him feel even more that it was magical.
Also normal.
After all, Ian's talent was so great that even the gods had to remain silent.
Humans are nothing but mortals.
Of course, I've never seen it.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!!"
Just then, Kag unleashed a rather insidious trick he had never used before—it appeared to be a powerful cleaving strike, but halfway through, he flicked his wrist strangely, and the greatsword drew a sharp arc, changing from a slash to a sweeping motion, aiming straight for Ian's lower abdomen! This was a life-saving trick he had learned from an old mercenary when he was in the underground arena in his early years, incorporating a touch of thief's cunning, and was quite different from his usual open and aggressive battlefield style.
"Do you have another trump card up your sleeve?"
Ian seemed slightly "surprised" as well.
But he reacted extremely quickly.
The legendary level of reflexes was too strong. Ian's longsword pressed down almost instinctively, and the spine of the sword precisely struck the trajectory of the greatsword's upward thrust, deflecting its force.
At the same time, he shifted his feet and, with a smaller and faster motion than Kag, completed a similar but smoother side slide, instantly widening the distance between them.
The two are temporarily separated.