2234 2234. Fear

Sword Saint didn't come out of the exchange completely unharmed. Euclio's statement had been on point. Destruction was necessary to create something that didn't exist, which involved Sword Saint's world in that specific case.

The massive silver blade that had appeared on the battlefield during Sword Saint's return represented a part of his world. Its size didn't even make justice to the amount of energy in its insides, and Sword Saint had to remove that power from his existence to create something vast enough to kill Euclio.

The effort wasn't only massive. No rank 9 cultivator could usually recover from such a deep and giant injury. The few who could retain their lives would see their level fall drastically and have no chances to claim their power back.

That's how serious deep injuries to worlds were, and Sword Saint had even made things worse for himself since he had chosen to suffer that damage. Only he knew how to destroy his existence properly, so it was obvious that his actions had been thorough.

An intense wave of exhaustion swept Sword Saint's world and destabilized his power. He felt weak beyond reason, and his cultivation level grew unstable as his face began to lose its liveliness.

Nevertheless, Sword Saint didn't show any regret for his recent actions. He didn't even worry about his current situation. His expression revealed pure confidence as he straightened his back to glance at the scenery above him.

Many ignorant about Sword Saint's power would think that he was looking at the sky. Still, most assets from the sky and the landmass' leaders who had the time to inspect the scene knew that Sword Saint's gaze didn't even try to stop at the white layer.

Only the core members of Noah's team knew that Sword Saint couldn't even see the sky from his position. His gaze was always pointed at something far deeper into the universe, something that even existences past the cultivation journey would struggle to locate.

Sword Saint immersed himself in the sensations that his gesture caused. His devotion allowed the existence of a deep connection with the sword path, which sent knowledge to refill what he had sacrificed during the battle.

It would have been different if Sword Saint had committed a sin against his path. Yet, his actions had been entirely in line with his world. He had created blades that his level couldn't fully comprehend, so he obtained a reward.

A deep and foreign silver radiance started to seep out of Sword Saint's figure. That light belonged to his world, but it was also different. Its true source came from something far vaster than him, but most of that power fused with his world to fix its injuries and improve it.

Sword Saint had just stepped on the solid stage, but his position in that realm slowly advanced as knowledge filled his injuries. He was bound to gain even greater strength once the process was over, but no one knew how long it would take.

<br/>Some privileged cultivators tried to assess the new threat whenever they found the chance. Sword Saint wasn't resorting to any defensive ability during his healing process. He merely floated among the battlefield.

The privileged cultivators probably couldn't find a better chance to attack Sword Saint, but none of them dared to make their move. The reason didn't even come from their powerful opponents, not always, at least.

Some experts had the chance to disappear for a few seconds and deliver a significant blow to that defenseless expert. Others could even decide to suffer injuries to reach Sword Saint while wielding enough power to kill him. Yet, everyone opted to focus on their battle anyway.

Fear was the main reason behind that decision. Sword Saint was the only expert in the entire higher plane who had access to a variable that even the timeless beings from the sky couldn't comprehend or predict.

The paths or arrays of worlds deep into the universe were structures beyond what beings stuck in the cultivation journey could understand. Even Heaven and Earth could only gaze at those deeper meanings without fully comprehending them.

Many privileged cultivators were loyal to Heaven and Earth or Caesar's plan, but they didn't want to mess with things they couldn't predict. The landmass' leaders were already a big problem, so the experts unanimously decided to leave Sword Saint to the next reinforcements.

Before Sword Saint could inflict the final blow on Euclio, Alexander and his opponent were entangled in exchanges that carried no grace or strategy.

The young-looking woman that had chosen Alexander as her opponent had claimed that their physical prowess was on par. The declaration had turned the battle into a messy exchange of punches, kicks, and direct attacks that no ordinary cultivator could endure for so long.

Alexander didn't hold back even once. He empowered his body with suitable abilities that pushed his physical prowess to incredible peaks, but his opponent always matched his blows. Moreover, the woman used the same moves, which showed the mocking nature behind her attacks.

"I'm not even close to reaching my limit," The woman laughed after the impact between the duo's punches created a violent shockwave that made the two shoot in opposite directions.

"You have the greatest hybrid as your opponent," Alexander announced. "You won't live to find my limits."

The break didn't last long enough to let the echoes of Alexander's words vanish from the battlefield. He and the privileged cultivator soon shoot forward to engage in their violent battle again, but neither seemed able to prevail over their opponent.

The matter was beyond odd, but Alexander didn't try to find any deep explanation. It was clear that the young-looking woman had access to a strange form of power that allowed him to match his blows, but he didn't care enough to look for potential weaknesses.

Alexander expressed superiority, and a mere cultivator had challenged his physical strength. Nothing could insult him more than that, so he planned to achieve his victory through a barbaric show of power.

Of course, the idea that the privileged cultivator might have challenged Alexander on that specific field to buy time had crossed his mind. Alexander thought about that after every exchange ending in a draw, but he dispersed those worries whenever they appeared.

It didn't matter if the privileged cultivator had a personal agenda. Alexander would still win through his superior power, even if that involved remaining stuck against the same opponent longer than necessary.

Truth be told, Alexander barely consumed energy in that kind of fight, so the approach would benefit him in the long run. He had also sensed that Sword Saint had reached the solid stage, so he didn't feel the need to worry about the other parts of the battlefield.

"So much power," The woman praised when another exchange forced Alexander and her to fly in opposite directions.

"Are you jealous?" Alexander mocked.

"Very much so," The privileged cultivator admitted without showing a single trace of shame. "I had to work hard to gain the slightest grain of strength while you were simply born with it."

"You could have come to the hybrids' side," Alexander revealed. "Many cultivators decide to imitate the magical beasts at some point in their journey. There is nothing wrong in pursuing superior forms of power."

"The thought crossed my mind many times," The woman admitted. "However, where's the value in inborn strength? I can only accept what I claim with my hard work. That's why I can't lose against someone like you."