The spear tips clashed, causing Aggrevain’s hand to split open.
But he ignored the bleeding wound and swung his spear with force again.
This time, at the cost of a new injury on his side, he pushed Percival back another step.
As the countdown in his heart continued to decrease, the blood marks on Aggrevain’s body increased with each clash.
From a distance, he seemed almost like a bloody man, with hardly any intact skin left, covered in wounds of varying sizes.
The flowing blood from Aggrevain formed small puddles on the ground, terrifying to behold.
Percival was no exception, his momentum in defense faded and he retreated step by step.
When the cold voice sounded, Percival realized that he had unconsciously been forced out of the arena.
Looking at the monster before him, covered in more than twenty wounds, bleeding incessantly, but without even a frown, Percival felt overwhelmed.
He had long heard that this clerk from Oakney was known as the "Iron Wall."
It turns out this wasn’t a reference to his defensive skills, but to his iron-like will.
To achieve his goals, he would use any means necessary.
He was ruthless not only to his enemies but to himself as well.
He was practically a talking iron man!
As the dust settled, Percival simply raised his hands:
"You didn’t lose in martial arts, but to your own mercy."
Aggrevain dropped the spear, which was full of nicks and cracks, and commented expressionlessly,
"Earlier, you had many chances to kill me, but you held back and only kept retreating, so you ended up losing miserably."
Hearing this, Percival scratched his head somewhat awkwardly.
When fighting, he had always lacked the will to kill the innocent, a persistent flaw of his.
He didn’t expect this sharp-eyed clerk from Oakney to not only see through his character but also turn it into a vulnerability.
He had to admit, this was a master who could see into and exploit people’s hearts.
"Percival, if you can’t do it, then let me."
Galahad stepped past his friend, entering the arena.
Aggrevain wasted no words, grabbing a new spear from a guard and charging at Galahad.
However, before the Iron Wall Knight could get close, Galahad drew the red-handled sword at his waist, named Meriadoc, and unleashed a crimson sword light, blasting Aggrevain and his spear out of the arena.
He was not Percival and had no concerns about his opponent’s life or death.
The arena was also a battlefield; stepping onto it meant being prepared to die in battle.
And seeing all three of Gao Wen’s brothers eliminated, Luo En shook his head in silence.
Clearly, compared to the legendary three Holy Grail Knights, Bos, Percival, and Galahad, Gareth, Gahorliss, and Aggrevain were noticeably inferior.
It was no wonder that these three, along with a dozen other Round Table Knights, went to catch an adulterer only to be killed by an unarmed Lancelot, all falling at the hands of the Lake Knight.
However, with the defeat of his three brothers, Gao Wen also stepped into the arena.
With one sweep of his sword, he sent Galahad, along with his sword, flying out of the arena.
Clearly, to the three Holy Grail Knights, Gao Wen was just as overwhelmingly powerful, and the gap between them couldn’t be bridged by skill alone.
Easily dealing with the obstacles, Gao Wen raised his sword, pointing to Meiluxin on the stands:
"It’s just the two of us now."
A surge of magic power erupted from the blade, forming a tangible golden scorching wind around the arena.
The Holy Sword Cavendish, forged by elves, contained the power of the Sun, emitting a heat that could burn everything to ashes.
Meiluxin nodded, drew the weapon from his waist, and walked toward the arena.
Wherever he passed, the moisture evaporated, causing the surrounding temperature to sharply drop.
The Holy Sword Arondight, also a secret treasure forged by the Lake Elf, bore the name "Steel Cutting." The blade had inscriptions in the language of the elf on both sides. The sword’s feature was a gleam like a lake under the moonlight, and its blade would never be damaged.
In actuality, these two swords were considered sister swords, each possessing opposing divine powers.
Both stood ready, simultaneously making their moves.
Meiluxin’s swordsmanship focused on exquisite technique, with foundational moves that blended elegance and the beauty of strength. Every basic attack seemed as light as a poem yet contained the force of a thunderbolt, its blade’s trajectory precisely targeting the opponent’s defensive weak points.
Moreover, she excelled at using sword and shield in tandem, creating a unique rhythm of attack and defense, a combat style specifically designed for one-on-one duels, giving her an absolute advantage in single combat.
Thus, Gao Wen initially found it quite difficult to cope.
But as time passed and the sun rose, the golden scorching wind gradually overwhelmed the blue lake light, forcing Meiluxin into a steady retreat.
Gao Wen’s swordsmanship was deeply intertwined with the sun’s movement, and as the sun rose, the power of his slashes could increase to threefold their usual strength. His core mechanism, "Saint’s Number," granted his attacks under sunlight a burning effect, leaving golden trails in the sword’s path that formed a field of ongoing burn damage to enemies.
This trait arose from the Celtic culture’s reverence for the number "3," with sword momentum fluctuating in a three-stage energy wave with the sun’s angle, peaking at noon with almost unbeatable power.
Gradually, the extreme heat melted the marble on the ground into scorching lava, the air severely distorted, turning the entire arena into a purgatory.