Ou Tao stepped forward on one foot, his rapier tracing an elegant arc through the blizzard. The blade lightly pricked the snow, then shot ahead—leaving a slender scar across the white expanse.

The Mutated Bamboo Boar King let out a contemptuous snort. Stomping down hard, it sent snow and wind swirling violently.

This stomp had plagued militiamen and swordsmen alike. Though immensely strong, the beast was slow. That single stomp—slowing all nearby—was how it felled three Level 7 swordsmen and a squad of militia. Brief as the slowdown was, it gave the beast enough time to crush opponents flat beneath its weight.

Yet from the moment Ou Tao sidestepped and leaped, to when a fresh wound carved into the boar king’s skull, not a single debuff touched him.

“Impossible! Why wasn’t he slowed?” Everyone was baffled. Even Hamiyou staff only grasped it after reviewing slow-motion footage.

The instant the boar king’s leg joints twitched, Ou Tao had already readied a jumping slash. As the shockwave erupted from the stomp, he launched upward—airborne just as the tremor passed beneath him. The moment it faded, he descended with a slash. So swift was the motion that many believed he was immune.

Landing smoothly, Ou Tao raised his rapier and thrust forward three times in rapid succession.

As the boar king whipped its head to fling him off, Ou Tao sidestepped instantly, repositioning to the other side of its snout. Another flurry of thrusts—each strike piercing a vital point.

“Incredible reflexes!” Everyone felt it. His timing was flawless: dodging every head-swing, repositioning in a heartbeat to strike again.

“Wraaah!” Flustered and outpaced, the beast tried stomping to slow him—but Ou Tao leaped each time, landing a critical headshot that triggered stagger, even stun.

Driven back by relentless stabs, the boar king began turning left. In that split second, Ou Tao plunged his rapier into the ground and shot forward. Before the Mutated Bamboo Boar King finished turning, Ou Tao had already drawn the longsword embedded beside it and swept horizontally—a sharp slap that sent it reeling.

Different blades, different effects: the longsword’s slash carried raw force; the rapier’s thrust delivered piercing precision. Ou Tao’s Twelve-Blade Style thrived on this—switching weapons to exploit strengths and cover weaknesses.

But weight slowed movement. So Ou Tao deliberately planted swords across key battlefield spots. At the perfect moment, he’d retrieve the needed blade—a feat demanding near-divine calculation, foresight, and spatial awareness.

Just like now: face Ou Tao head-on? Relentless thrusts. Try to flee? He’d drop the rapier, draw the longsword beside it, and force it back.

Terror seized the boar king. Those three casually discarded swords were like chess pieces locking its escape. It tried to charge—wild boar dash style.

But the moment it coiled to charge, Ou Tao drove the longsword deep into its right leg, circled its bulk, and landed precisely at the fourth sword.

A greatsword. He drew it, swung upward, and slashed the already-pierced leg—shattering a hoof, breaking the charge’s wind-up.

Ou Tao rolled sideways, drew the second longsword, lunged forward, and left a long gash. The lunge ended exactly where he began. Rapier drawn. Cross-shaped slash. Another critical headshot.

The Mutated Bamboo Boar King faltered. Three minutes of unscathed assault had drained its health to 5%.

Unable to rear up—hind legs broken—it lowered its head and roared. Preparing the Blessing of Blizzard!

Its invincibility frame was solid. This was a race against death. Fail to finish it now, and its healing would reset everything.

Ou Tao was brilliant—but Uncle Rod’s body was failing. Stamina five points from exhaustion.

“Finish it!” Killing intent flared. He tossed the longsword skyward, poured every ounce of strength into the rapier, and slashed straight down at the skull.

The impact shattered the rapier.

“It’s over! He broke his sword! Grabbing another gives it time to heal!”

But the airborne longsword descended perfectly into his hand. Mid-air twist. Full-force slash. Another critical headshot. Amid the second longsword’s shards, the beast wailed in pain, straining to heal.

Ou Tao landed, rolled, snatched the greatsword, and hurled it at the head. Leaping again, he yanked the longsword from the hoof, executed a jumping slash—critical hit. Another blade shattered.

The greatsword he’d thrown earlier fell back. Catch. Swing. Shatter. Invincibility broken.

The Blessing of Blizzard shattered mid-cast. The boar king shrieked—a sound of pure agony. Its eyes, once scornful, now held only terror. How could a mere Level 5 human wield such power?

“So fast… He’s just too fast!” Onlookers gasped.

“Four consecutive critical headshots! Broke its invincibility!”

“But he’s out of swords! All blades shattered! Only 1% health left—he can’t finish it!”

Yet Ou Tao was a world champion. He never miscalculated damage. As the greatsword broke, his left hand discarded the hilt; his right shot to his waist.

Ke Er’s eyes widened. “That’s our firewood-chopping axe!”

The fifth jumping slash fell. Blood sprayed. The boar’s head rolled. The Mutated Bamboo Boar King’s colossal form collapsed—felled by a human half its level.