Game’s Dogma

Having sensed that Ichor Hon was a dangerous threat, Drako Yau had goosebumps all over him while the two forces within him stirred restlessly. However, they were suppressed by Cryoflame jade’s gentle aura and the Ghost Flame barrier.

The killing intent radiating from Ichor Hon’s katana alone was enough to trigger the forces within him. It was the first time in a long while that Drako Yau had experienced such intense killing intent after encountering the purple man during the Siege—just that the intent this time was even stronger.

Ichor Hon held his katana and flicked it. The countless pathetic cries of souls reverberated in Drako Yau’s ears.

‘Oh?’ Ichor Hon’s narrow eyes were locked onto Drako Yau. ‘Your cultivation style, it’s special. Yet you choose to suppress it.’

He then held his katana vertically before his chest and looked at it gently as if it was his lover. ‘My style is called “Lunar Reflection”. The wielder must be accompanied by a sword the moment the style is born, and the weapon is closely related to the wielder’s internal powers. Killing more people increases the style’s strength. You can say that this katana is a part of me.’

Drako Yau said calmly, ‘My style is different. Mine’s dangerous.’

Ichor Hon snickered. ‘Dangerous? Did you think mine’s safe?’ He then untied his robe to reveal a long scar on his torso.

The scar was a brutal one; one could guess how serious the injury had been back then just from looking. It wouldn’t result in such a terrible scar if it was just a minor cut. It went from his left shoulder diagonally all the way to his right waist and was as thick as a finger. Such a savage blow must have been life-threatening.

‘I went overboard and lost control during cultivating. The sword’s powers took over my sword and almost killed me in one strike.’ Ichor Hon tidied his clothes and continued, ‘Cultivation is going against the heavens, it always has been. There’s no such thing as certain safety, no such thing as smooth sailing. If you’re going to suppress it, I’ll force it out for you.’

Ichor Hon squinted his eyes. ‘Take this, my first strike.’

He slowly lifted his sword and pointed it at Drako Yau who was tens of metres away. The moment he pointed his sword, it fired off a blood red beam straight at Drako Yau’s chest.

Alarmed, Drako Yau used Empyreal Dragon Step to the best of his capability and twisted his body, but the beam was simply too quick. It brushed past him and splattered a fountain of blood from his chest.

He steadied himself and focused his eyes on Ichor Hon, who simply stood there with the katana still pointing at him. It was only then did he realise what the attack just now was. It was no energy beam nor sword energy—no, it was killing intent forged through countless bloodshed.

Killing intent was one of many auras humans possessed. Apart from killing intent, it was said in legends that there were many other auras which varied from one person to another.

Soldiers who engage in bloody battles frequently might instinctively radiate killing intent along with another aura called army aura. People who always reigned over others gave off emperor’s aura. Powerful and well-trained fighters were always surrounded by auras, born from and affected by their personal strengths.

The old geezer had taught him that auras were mainly used to affect the enemy’s mental status and combat readiness. It was the first time he saw someone using auras as a means of attacking.

‘The second strike.’ Ichor Hon’s voice was chilly, drowning Drako Yau in freezing waters.

It wasn’t merely pointing the katana this time. Instead, he lightly slashed it. The bloody mist throughout the pit was split into two by the slash’s momentum, bolting through the air at Drako Yau.

All Drako Yau could hear was a small buzz; it was impossible for him to react in time. Blood sprouting from his chest after getting hit, he was thrown backwards by the slash’s momentum and slammed into the pit’s walls, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

Too strong.

Drako Yau believed that Ichor Hon wasn’t even using a tenth of his strength and was just toying around.

‘The third strike.’ As if announcing Drako Yau’s death, Ichor Hon’s voice could be heard again.

It appeared to be another casual slash, but Drako Yau focused his eyes and noticed that it was in fact two slashes this time.

Pzzt! Pzzt!

The two blood red slashes formed a cross of death. Drako Yau scurried out of the way by throwing himself sideways. With a loud boom, the cross tore through the pit’s barrier and continued towards the spectator stands, turning countless players into lumps of white light. Nothing survived wherever the cross trod, and bloody red mist was seeping out from the pit through the opening in the barrier.

It was mayhem. After recovering from the initial shock, everyone quickly left the pit. Some nosy players wanted to spectate the match, but the bloody mist pouring out from the opening almost flooded the entire place in no time, making it impossible to see what was going on. In that case, staying there was no different from dying a fool’s death.

None of the hundreds of thousands of spectators remained.

‘Sorry, forgot to tell you about the fourth strike’, Ichor Hon said coldly, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

Drako Yau didn’t await his doom either. White mist shrouded his legs as he sped around the pit. He was using Empyreal Dragon Step to its pinnacle; the white mist was no longer vague and was clearly visible.

‘The fifth strike.’

Immediately after Ichor Hon finished ‘strike’, he was already gone.

Drako Yau subconsciously twisted his body to thrust his spear. A loud clang ensued as Ichor Hon’s cold face appeared behind him and hewed him with the katana.

The strike smashed his thumbs and knocked his spear out of his hands, sending the weapon flying into the air. Drako Yau tumbled and rolled on the ground all the way until he reached the pit’s edge. Moon Breaker coincidentally dropped next to him with its tip embedded into the ground.

Ichor Hon snorted and said, ‘You disappoint me. Without utilising your internal powers, you’re no match for me. It’s like the difference between a fully equipped person and a bare-handed person—poles apart.

‘My Lunar Reflection not only fused my internal powers with my sword, but even infused it with my killing intent. ’Tis the characteristic of Lunar Reflection: the more I kill, the more intense my killing intent, and the stronger Lunar Reflection gets. Without having a need for fancy swordsmanship, even the simplest of slashes is a fatal strike when utilising Lunar Reflection.’

Ichor Hon casually flicked his katana upwards. A hundred-metre-long slash cut through the air and left a horrifying cut on the ceiling.

‘Do you understand how your internal powers can aid you now? That’s why you’re no match for me.’ Ichor Hon looked at Drako Yau, then laughed at himself. ‘Why did I even get serious with a kid? Nevermind.’

He pointed his sword at Drako Yau again and said, ‘Now die.’

The air buzzed as another slash cut past it. Despite using the same attack as the first strike, it was several times faster.

Drako Yau fixed his gaze on the incoming attack.

Calm down!

Calm down!

Calm…

He abruptly shuddered.

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