Chapter 403
Leander unleashed ten consecutive punches.
With every strike he received, Galen’s blood roiled violently, his innate vitality growing increasingly chaotic.
By the tenth punch, he could no longer withstand it, and the barriers shattered completely.
With his defenses broken, the remaining force of Leander’s punch slammed into him head-on.
His internal organs were damaged on the spot, blood spraying across the sky as he fell several dozen feet away.
His right hand trembled uncontrollably, already numb after exchanging ten blows with Leander.
Nonetheless, he found it hard to believe.
How could Leander possess such terrifying strength? How did he defeat an Infernal Crown Transcendent?
Everyone knew that within the Transcendent Realm, no one could compare to them. After all, they were untouchable and impossible to beat.
But Leander, who wasn’t even an Infernal Crown, managed to suppress his attacks and even injured him.
Such a feat was something even the Dragon Emperor, who once swept across all of Asyara’s Transcendents, had never achieved.
Galen simply couldn’t fathom what kind of monster Leander was.
What he did not know was that after Leander’s battle with Douglas at Stormcairn River, he’d absorbed the latter’s cultivation and broke through to the Transcendent Realm.
And what rose wasn’t just his cultivation.
His physical strength, speed, and every bodily function had soared.
Previously, if Leander wanted to fight an Infernal Crown Transcendent, he might have needed to fully unleash his Devourer Form.
But now, he could still overpower one of them without using his entire form, relying solely on his physical body.
Leander did not pursue after injuring Galen. Instead, he withdrew his fist and clasped his hands behind his back.
“Mr. Pierce, I don’t think this fight needs to continue p>
He shook his head lightly. “As you already know, you won’t be able to defeat me p>
If it were anyone else, Leander would have crushed them without hesitation.
He never showed mercy to his enemies, but he couldn’t just kill Galen.
Galen’s gaze flickered, but he didn’t deny it.
He had met each of Leander’s ten punches with full strength, yet his barriers had been shattered, and he had been grievously injured.
His organs were damaged, his combat power drastically reduced.
How could he possibly contend with Leander now, whose momentum seemed unstoppable?
The force around Leander dissipated completely, as though he had merged into the night.
Only his calm voice echoed through the air.
“Mr. Pierce, you have shown me great kindness. Without you, Jeff Ashcroft might not even exist today. As for Homer’s death, it doesn’t matter anymore. It was simply the law of the martial world, where the weak are prey to the strong. You know this well p>
He continued, “In your current state, revenge is impossible. I have no intention of killing you, so why not end it here? If you still wish to seek vengeance another day, I’ll be ready for it p>
Leander prepared to descend.
But suddenly, Galen shouted sharply, “Stop right there, Jeff p>
A cold light erupted in his eyes, his aura surging again. He had no intention of giving
up.
“I might not be able to defeat you, but I must avenge Homer’s death p>
He seemed very determined. “Even if it costs me my life, I will drag you down with me p>
As his voice fell, the Wanda Sect’s Golden Sword inside the banquet hall suddenly shot into the air, flying straight into his hand.
innate vitality surged from his palm into the blade, flooding it with radiant golden light.
The surrounding air filled with razor-sharp sword intent, and a few birds that
happened to fly past were instantly sliced into drifting blood mist.
Leander narrowed his eyes, for something felt terribly wrong.
He had seen this opening stance before.
On the peak of Hawksridge Summit during his battle with Tsaric Dubois-Briggs, the
final desperate sword strike Tsaric had unleashed looked exactly like this.
“Is Galen about to turn himself into a sword, delivering the final, killing blow p>
Gareth and the others’ faces all changed.
Though their cultivation wasn’t on par with Galen or Leander, they were seasoned martial practitioners and immediately understood Galen’s intent.
They never imagined Galen would go this far—recklessly risking his life, even to the point of shattering his body, just to drag Leander down with him.
“Gosh Leander tilted his head and sighed lightly.
“For revenge, for the honor of the Wanda Sect… Is it really worth it p>
Galen ignored him. His innate vitality surged violently, enveloping his golden sword
in a scorching heat that turned it blood-red.
His entire body trembled under the high-temperature energy, and the edges of his flesh seemed to ripple, almost on the verge of breaking down.
“Jeff, this battle is not about grudges. It is about the honor and prestige of the Wanda Sect! As the sects grandmaster will never allow tyself to be defeated by some
junior p>
“Receive my sword!” he roared.
His voice was harsh and resolute, and he prepared to literally become the sword
itself.
Leander snorted coldly, his expression turning grim.
He braced himself, charging forward to stop Galen.
But at that moment, he abruptly paused, slanting his gaze toward the horizon to one
side.
“Mercy p>
A solemn proclamation echoed from the distant horizon.
Then, a golden light streaked across, striking Galen.
It slammed his golden sword from his hand, scattering the innate vitality he had accumulated around his body stopping him from completing his final self-sacrificing strike.
Everyone below was stunned, unable to grasp what had happened.
Only Leander could clearly see the string of prayer beads inscribed with ancient
writings.
It was these beads that completely thwarted Galen’s self-destructive final move.
“What p>
Galen had intended to die alongside Leander, yet someone had interrupted him mid- action.
He looked up and saw a tall, slender figure in robes standing on the horizon to the
side.
The golden light recoiled and settled into the newcomer’s hands.
With a gentle sweep of his sleeves, the beads rotated slowly.
His face radiated serene benevolence—an elderly cleric, completely bald, exuding
the aura of a living divine being.
He stood atop a glowing wheel, hovering in the sky.
Points of sacred light adorned him, amplifying his solemn authority.
Below, Gareth and the others gaped in shock, staring blankly at the scene.
None of them recognized the cleric, and they had no idea who he was.
Yet the five top-ranking generals, including Darrow, seemed to regard the cleric with knowing consideration.
Leander fixed his gaze on the elderly cleric, his fists trembling slightly.
It was an instinctive reaction his body produced in the presence of a formidable
opponent.
Just a moment ago, the cleric had, seemingly from nothing, launched a single string
of prayer beads that stopped Galen’s self-sacrificial sword strike.
Leander knew that even if he had intervened personally, he could at best have shattered Galen’s innate
vitality around his body, yet he would never have been able to stop him as effortlessly as this cleric had.
This cleric was undoubtedly a supreme expert, with cultivation far surpassing
Galen’s.
His powers might even exceed that of an Infernal Crown Transcendent.
“Is it really you, Master p>
Galen recognized the cleric instantly. It was clear they were long-time acquaintances.
“Mercy!” The cleric intoned, then turned his gaze to Galen.
“Mr. Pierce, why would you treat yourself so harshly? A fleeting success or failure is
but smoke in the wind. Why destroy your own life?
“I was a close friend of your late master. Had you taken your life before me today,
how could I ever answer him if I were to ascend to immortality p>
Galen’s eyes widened in realization.
He recalled how he had impulsively tried to shatter his own body into a sword, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.
Reflecting on the teachings of his predecessor, Master Cohen, he felt a deep pang of regret and shame.
The cleric’s words had shaken Galen awake.
Then, with a single step, he shifted his position, turning his attention to Leander. “Young and already renowned, unmatched across the heavens and earth… You’re truly deserving of the title of the Iron Sovereign bestowed by the Divine Loom!” He continued, “Pleasure to meet you, Sovereign Ashcroft. I am a humble cleric who goes by the name of Master Branson. It seems fate has finally brought us together.” Only then did Gareth and the others below realize who the cleric was, and their faces drained of color in shock.
“Master Branson? Isn’t he the current head of the Ancient Lingster Sanctum p>