The warrior's laugh was sharp and mocking.
"I never thought I'd see the day," he sneered, his eyes scanning gabriel and his paladins with open contempt.
"An arrogant holy knight from the so called Holy Empire, begging and bowing before us.
What a nice day indeed."
Gabriel's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady.
"We are not begging. We are offering aid. Your people are dying"
"We don't want your help." The warrior spat on the ground. "Go back to wherever you came from. We have our strongest fighting this battle. Leave now, or only your bodies will return home if you're lucky. Otherwise, we'll kill you and feed your units to the monsters."
Gabriel's hands trembled with barely restrained fury. He had faced insults before. He had faced hostility. But this this was something else entirely.
"Once again," he said through gritted teeth, "we only want to help. We should fight together, or we will all perish."
"You'll be the one dying," the warrior shot back. "Not us. Now leave, you pieces of"
"Enough!"
A paladin stepped forward, his face flushed with anger.
"Have you no honor? No emotion? Look around you!" He gestured wildly at the carnage the scattered bodies, the limbs, the unrecognizable remains of the fallen. "Monsters roam openly.
They've massacred your people. Some of them are so mutilated they can't even be recognized! We're here because the Warherald ordered us to safeguard and help you, because this catastrophe is something any human can survive or fight alone!"
The warrior's eyes narrowed. "Warherald? What's that? Does he think he's powerful because he's called Warherald? One warrior from our sect could kill him easily."
The paladin's face twisted with rage. "Shut your damn mouth! He is Goddess Aria's chosen warrior! He was the one who unleashed the divine sword slash and the divine spear!"
"So what?" The warrior shrugged. "Did all those monsters die? And who is this goddess you speak of? We don't believe in your goddess. We believe in God Arshan not some random female named Aria."
Silence.
Absolute, terrible silence.
The paladins stood frozen, their faces contorted with rage and disbelief. The words hung in the air like a blade and blasphemy of the highest order.
"This is blasphemy," one paladin whispered.
"Captain Gabriel," another said, his voice shaking. "How can we tolerate this much insult toward Goddess Aria and the Warherald?"
Gabriel didn't answer.
He moved.
His flash-step magic activated a blur of golden light that crossed the distance between him and the warrior in an instant. The warrior's eyes widened, but he had no time to react.
Gabriel's sword swung clean.
The warrior's head separated from his body and hit the ground with a wet thud. His body stood for a moment before collapsing in a heap.
Gabriel stood over the corpse, his blade dripping with blood.
"Unleash your full power," he commanded, his voice cold as ice. "Kill these bastards. Handle the monsters. I'll deal with the scoundrels of this so called God Arshan."
The paladins surged forward.
The battlefield erupted into chaos.
Mount Hua Sect warriors clashed with Holy Paladins in a storm of blades and Qi. The warriors moved with fluid grace, their sword arts honed through decades of cultivation. Plum blossom techniques bloomed through the air arcs of Qi that cut through divine shields like paper.
But the paladins were not easy prey. Their divine magic clashed with Qi, and their golden armor deflected strikes that would have killed lesser men. The two forces were evenly matched until Gabriel reached the Sect Leader.
Jeong Myeong stood waiting, his hands clasped behind his back. He was old nearly sixty but his presence radiated power. His Qi coiled around him, invisible but undeniable.
"You killed one of my warriors," the Sect Leader said calmly.
"He insulted my goddess," Gabriel replied. "And my Warherald."
Jeong Myeong's eyes narrowed. He raised his hand, and a plum blossom of pure Qi bloomed in his palm. Threads of Mana wove through it subtle but unmistakable. A fusion technique. Rare. Dangerous.
"You use Mana," Gabriel observed.
"We use everything," Jeong Myeong replied. "That is why we have survived."
He moved.
The battle between Gabriel and Jeong Myeong was brutal. The Sect Leader's Qi-infused strikes were devastating each blow carried the weight of decades of cultivation. His plum blossom techniques cut through the air like invisible blades, forcing Gabriel to rely on his divine shields.
But Gabriel was relentless. His divine magic clashed against the Sect Leader's Qi, each blow sending shockwaves through the battlefield. He was stronger than the old man faster, more powerful but Jeong Myeong fought with experience, countering every blow with precise, Qi-enhanced strikes.
The Sect Leader was skilled enough to fight on par with Gabriel, but only just.
The paladins fought on. They killed the Mount Hua warriors one by one, their divine blades carving through Qi defenses with surgical precision. The warriors fought back with everything they had, but the paladins were relentless.
One paladin fell, bleeding from a wound to his side. Another took a sword to the shoulder but kept fighting. But inch by inch, the paladins gained the upper hand.
Finally, the last Mount Hua warrior fell. Jeong Myeong stood alone, his Qi reserves depleted, his breathing ragged.
Gabriel approached him, his sword raised for the killing blow.
"You should have accepted our help," he said quietly.
But before he could strike
A fist came out of nowhere.
It connected with Gabriel's chest with the force of a meteor. Gabriel was sent flying backward, his divine shield shattering, his body crashing through buildings and debris. He landed in a heap, gasping for breath.
"FIST KING!"
The shout came from the Mount Hua warriors what few remained.
A figure emerged from the shadows. A tall, muscular man with fists wrapped in iron bands, his Qi radiating like a physical force. His presence was overwhelming a cultivator at the Nascent Soul stage, a master of the fist.
"I am Chen Wuji," the man said, his voice deep and commanding. "The Fist King of the Iron Fist Sect. This is not the time to kill humans. We must kill the monsters who are trying to end humanity."
Gabriel lay on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth, as the Fist King stood between him and the Sect Leader.
In Great Presia, the situation had deteriorated.
Roman remained unconscious, his body broken, his divine aura flickering weakly. The knights and paladins had formed a desperate shield around him, but they were being overwhelmed. Monsters swarmed from every direction, and for every one that fell, two more took its place.
The Shadow System's voice echoed in Roman's mind.
Get up, Warherald. Get up.
But Roman didn't react. He couldn't.
His body was shattered. His core was overheated. His mind was lost in darkness.
The system tried again.
Get up.
Silence.
And then the system acted on its own.
Divine healing magic erupted from Roman's body a radiant golden light that swept outward, mending his wounds and restoring his strength.
Roman's eyes flickered beneath his closed lids.