The lightning swordswoman flicked the twin wings behind her and effortlessly avoided Granzon's blade, locking eyes with him. A strand of green hair floated out from her hood, snake-like fine scales near her ears and eyes, small horns on her forehead above golden vertical pupils that seemed like flowing lava.
Ah, finally a clear view of her face, quite a cute demihuman girl.
Granzon silently thought to himself, being killed by her would be better than being slashed by a fierce warrior.
Shadier seemed to pause for a second, sizing him up—roughly the duration of the moment. Even in this elongated time, Granzon couldn't quite grasp how long it truly was. Then, she swung her long knife.
Granzon heard that in one's final moments, they often see flashes of memories or experience a time-slowing sensation, but in reality, he felt none of that, just staring at the descending blade.
Clang!
"Huh?"
A metallic clash echoed, sparks flying. The huge force sent the blade rebounding just under a centimeter away from his neck.
"What is this?"
Startled by the sudden attack, both Granzon and Shadier hesitated for a moment. The long knife flew out of her hand.
Although lightning coiled around her right hand to retrieve the weapon, when Shadier turned back, Granzon had vanished before her eyes. Without any flying tools, in the next instant, Granzon appeared in the sky, freefalling naturally, but luckily, with enough alchemical items in his storage ring, a strong wind pressure Magic scroll helped him control his descent speed and land safely.
Although mentally prepared for it, just barely escaping death still left a lingering sense of dread and wonder in Granzon. Who had saved his life?
Granzon looked up at the sky in surprise, searching for the burning weapon he had briefly seen.
"Steady."
A clear, young voice resonated, tinged with an unusual calmness. Immediately, a hand pressed on Granzon's left shoulder, enveloping them both in an invisible force field, as the colossal-scale lightning strike named "God's Wrath" rumbled down.
Truly worthy of a Holy Rank wielding the law of Thunder, God's Wrath far surpassed natural lightning and maintained such immense power—it felt as if liquid substance surrounded Granzon, giving him a sensation of being amidst a waterfall.
With this level of attack, even a Ninth Level Knight would need to reconsider facing it head-on, let alone summoning Tiran and Aya. So, who was this girl who effortlessly shattered God's Wrath?
Granzon glanced in astonishment to the black-haired girl standing beside him. Being a father himself, he could estimate her age. If it weren't for those unsightly old monsters pretending to be young, this child might not be much older than Tiran.
As God's Wrath continued for about ten seconds, the dazzling white light illuminated the night fully, piercing even the dense, cloudy sky. When the lightning dissipated, Shadier had ascended to a higher altitude.
Maintaining caution toward an unknown enemy, Shadier, equipped with the law of Thunder, could summon dense lightning strikes easily, utilizing the high mobility granted by her dragon-like membrane wings to seize opportunities effortlessly.
Yes, keep the distance—
If her sense of time was correct, she should have ascended at least a kilometer. But something felt off. Why had the distance between her and the two not changed at all? Space law?
Suddenly realizing, Shadier focused her attention, attempting to rewrite the fixed spatial distance back to normal within her range using the spatial law. Despite her efforts, the spatial law, usually under her control, wouldn't respond, leaving her feeling powerless, almost like an ordinary person.
How was this possible? Shadier had never encountered such a perplexing situation. Even if the opponent's force manipulating the spatial distortion was exceedingly strong due to the Holy Rank, the complete lack of any trace of the spatial law felt incomprehensible.
Unless the adversary wasn't a Holy Rank.
Indeed, she wasn't.
"After obtaining my spiritual power, my first opponent in battle is just an Earthly Immortal? Quite disappointing. Moreover, someone skilled in Thunder using a single-handed sword is no match for her, right?"
A voice resembling that of a former Immortal echoed in the girl's mind.
Undoubtedly, the sudden appearance belonged to the princess who had transcended to the level of a true Immortal in the temple at Lijing City after obtaining a spiritual power—perhaps now, she should be addressed as a queen.
Fortunately, arriving just in time to interrupt Granzon's assault, if Milanía had delayed a bit longer, a memorial service for the great War King would have been prepared.
From a rational perspective, once reaching the Immortal level, crossing vast distances wasn't a challenging task, even creating wormholes to traverse dimensions was like child's play.
Yet, it all depended on one's thought process. Engrossed in governing West Empire Chu, all of Xiang Ling's thoughts were focused on state affairs. Amid the chaos and changes in politics, even the willpower and computational abilities at the Immortal level were kept occupied, forgetting about coordinating military support for the war in Milanía.
It was only earlier today that she had realized the crucial omission, prompting her to gather the troops and set sail overseas to assist her fiancée personally, abandoning the practical approach for a hands-on intervention.
Due to a day spent handling what usually took a month of document review before departing, Ling discovered signs of a breakdown in her spiritual heart, compounded by the troubles brought by political changes, enough to overwhelm a regular person, some even succumbing to the burdens.
The consequence of extended overtime led to Ling feeling dull-witted, forgetting the extraordinary teleportation ability she possessed.
Standing on the battlefield with her spear, Ling even felt a slight sense of satisfaction, considering the effort she put in without receiving salary or bonuses.
So, an Earthly Immortal didn't matter, as long as she could have a good fight, unwind, gauge her current abilities, there was nothing to worry about.
Ling tilted her head slightly, fondly observing Shadier's futile attempts to break free from spatial confinement, flippantly throwing her spear.
Returning the attack effortlessly, Shadier attempted to deflect the flying spear again—
But at the moment when the blade and spear collided, an unbelievable force transferred from the weapon to her hand. Just like the initial strike that sent her blade flying, an irresistible force.
"Ah!"
Instinctively shouting, Shadier focused the lightning on her blade artificially, creating a strong magnetic field to resist external forces, barely managing to veer the spear to the side.
However, the potent sense of danger exploded in her mind almost simultaneously. The turbulent airflow behind her and the distinctive red light belonging to Ling infiltrated her senses.
She was in trouble.
With a surprised realization, Shadier raised her blade for a block, facing a barrage of punches.
Apart from empowering Ling with abilities similar to West Land deities—expanding the divine territory and rewriting rules within—it was the pure energy continuously improving her physique.
In theory, Ling's body was no longer purely physical once elevated to semi-energized form, transcending physical impediments, erupting with immense energy from successive punches, akin to a brief explosion.
In less than a second, her blade shattered from continuous strikes, and Shadier herself was struck down by a single punch, creating a deep crater upon impact with the ground.
The entire process, swift and concise, lasting probably less than ten seconds.
Manipulating the laws, Ling had given the air enough strength and properties to support heavy objects, standing in the air as she glanced slightly disappointed at her own fist.
"Even if untrained, divine beings do not fight like humans...what ordinary creature can match that? To truly enjoy oneself, one must seek out opponents at the divine level."
Minglin's voice echoed in her mind, tinged with a hint of suppressed laughter.
"Forget it, it doesn't matter."
Ling shrugged, glancing back at the battlefield. Although Granzon and Shadier's battle prevented further pursuit, Milanía had successfully repelled the Masdon army on the right flank. With more troops redirected towards the left flank, the other Masdon army had no choice but to retreat.
"This round is over."
Easily discernible, the morale on both sides had noticeably shifted post-battle, with the Holy Rank abilities to turn the tide now rendered impotent.
Extending her right hand, Ling retrieved the spear she had tossed from a dark aperture.
At this moment, Granzon approached from a distance.
Observing from below the battlefield, he was probably the one most aware of how Ling managed to swiftly defeat Shadier, losing to Ling right after that. He had a clear understanding of their opponent's strength. So, how powerful was the sudden savior who rescued him?
And what was her purpose in saving him?
"Miss..."
Granzon began with a knightly salute, "Granzon Elysian, on behalf of the Kingdom of Milanía, I thank you for your assistance. We will do our best to fulfill any request as gratitude. However—"
His words were cut off as Ling raised her hand briefly.
Granzon noticed a momentary hesitance on the princess's face, followed by contemplation, which then transitioned into a hint of surprise?
The sincerity depicted on her face was almost too straightforward for Granzon to analyze why his lifesaver acted in such a manner.
"Are you the king of Milanía, Tiran Elysian’s father?"
Ling's expression, and the question itself, seemed to bear significance.
Huh?
This time, Granzon was left dumbfounded. What did she mean by that? Why ask such a question? Surely, it couldn't be that she saved him out of a desire for his daughter's beauty, intending to create a scenario similar to a hero defeating a dragon to marry a princess, right?
