Perhaps it should be said this way.
The battle was already over before it even began.
The high-ranking Black Fire Sect cultists of the Upper Silver rank were as helpless as newborn chicks before the Phoenix Guard’s elite Silver Elf Heavy Infantry who had mastered the Elemental Power. The Silver Elf race, throughout their long lives, deeply revered combat skills, making them a highly proud people. Their Heavy Infantry were far more than simply possessing superior physical attributes and excellent equipment. When faced with warriors who had spent centuries perfecting their fighting techniques, you can imagine the sense of helplessness one might feel.
A glance, a subtle movement, was enough to betray all of your intentions in the eyes of the most elite Silver Elf warriors. Brand couldn’t help but find it amusing watching high-ranking Black Fire Sect cultists try to show off their pitiful combat skills before these elf warriors. Even with his experience, he wouldn’t dare to be presumptuous before these true fighting machines—for Silver Elves, battle was an art, the ultimate pursuit of beauty.
Crude, so very crude.
The Silver Elves were simply incredulous, unable to believe that after hundreds of years, the servants of darkness still fought with such crude techniques. Seven centuries ago, the Dark Dragon, the Miner people, and other servants, as the strongest enemies of all intelligent beings, commanded the most advanced civilization, the most profound magic, and the most astonishing combat skills. They never opposed civilization because their brutal and dark rule itself represented the most advanced civilization in the world at that time.
The combat techniques of the people of darkness were once so mesmerizing that many of their kin defected to the darkness. It was unimaginable that in just a few hundred years, they had regressed to this state. No, this could hardly even be called combat techniques anymore.
It was simply intolerable.
The Black Fire Sect cultists clearly did not anticipate that their final attempt at resistance would instead provoke the wrath of the Silver Elves. In fact, it wasn’t just them; everyone present except for Brand would likely feel ashamed because of the Silver Elves’ current view. Yes! After the Saint War, instead of progressing, civilization regressed. The highest skills of warfare once mastered by both sides of the past conflict had long since become myth and legend.
But irrespective of what others thought, the battle was over in the instant it truly unfolded. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the Black Fire Sect cultists had already become cold corpses on the ground. The black blood flowed from their headless, icy bodies, spreading across the irregular forest floor like black veins.
The white-haired young man seemed pinned in place by an invisible force, his mouth agape and his throat producing a choking sound, unable to utter a single word.
For a long while, there was a crisp sound. Everyone instinctively turned their heads to notice that it was the giant sword of a big man among the Grey Wolf mercenaries that had fallen to the ground with a ’clang.’ The man himself seemed completely unaware, his face frozen in shock as he stared at the Silver Elf Guard who had stopped to reform their ranks. Twenty Templars who had awakened the Elemental Power—by Martha, not even the entire force of Erune could compare!
The Grey Wolf mercenaries couldn’t help but look at Brand, their hearts shaken to the core. What kind of person could command twenty Templars as guards? Could it be that this young man was actually a prince from Kruz, just passing by this place? Although this speculation seemed absurd, it was still more acceptable than the reality of twenty living Templars appearing right in front of them.
Just as everyone was in a daze, the red-haired girl suddenly lowered her long spear with a ’swoosh,’ blocking the path between the Silver Elf warriors and the white-haired young man.
Her intention was clear; she didn’t want these Elves to kill Redi. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NoveI[F]ire.net
The red-haired girl looked up, her lips pressed tightly together, her expression somewhat grave. She already knew that she wasn’t a match for any of these elf warriors. But even so, this realization didn’t diminish the battle intent in her eyes. She slightly lowered her center of gravity, leaning forward, and assumed a fighting stance—as if she were a tigress about to pounce.
The girl’s action was so familiar that it made Sanfde and the others almost feel like they were back in the past, with that Qian who was willing to fight for anyone in the Grey Wolf Mercenary Group.