Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

The battle in the sky was now in full swing. On one hand, the two fleets had finally engaged in combat. the cultivator ship were firing formation cannons and energy weapon of their own, facing the beam of Epsilon.

While the ships were locked in aerial battle, they were surrounded by a cloud of individual combats. Many of the weaker cultivators had descended to the city, either felled by the attacks from the ground or to evade the offense of Minas Mar. They rather faced the golems, than the people on aerial strikers.

Those left battling in the sky were the various elders and people from Minas Mar. These opponents were not to be underestimated, although the rank of elder seemed to lose some of its meaning when facing a sect alliance with hundreds of them.

Each of them ranged between lv.85 to lv.120 when observed with an appraisal skill and they all possessed weird and ultimate skills and techniques that could raise their level in a desperate moment.

It became even more chaotic when either side brought their pets and mounts on top of their own power. Aerial strikers and exotic beasts rained from the sky, in addition to cultivators and players.

Despite each member of the Oathguard having breached lv.90 and being clad in relic-rated items, there was no easy victory.

Caleb's lance was evaded by a hair's breadth when he charged at the figure in black and red robes. The man in question used no weapons, but his hands were like claws. He had already punched a hole through the stomach of an Oathguard and was about to finish the man when the Dragon Knight interrupted.

These were the most dangerous ones among the cultivators left in the sky. Some of these alliance members were leaders of their sects or had the standing of grand elders. They possessed power a normal Oathguard couldn't compare to.

It couldn't be helped. Oathguards were chosen by character, not by skill. They usually had common or uncommon classes that lacked the skills to cross this difference in power. They mostly relied on their equipment to kill stronger opponents, but that approach had its limits.

Although the lance was avoided, Wyvern managed to snatch the man from the opponent's hand. There was no time to get him to safety, so the Wyvern threw the body to a passing firefly, while Caleb had a short back-and-forth with the cultivator.

“I don't know if I should call you brave or stupid to face this paragon,” the Dark Sovereign spoke boastfully. “ I know you aren't part of Minas Mar. I will give you a chance to live. All i wish is to take revenge on Minas Mar for the damage and loss we suffered because of them,” he offered graciously.

Caleb squinted. He had gotten a very short briefing about Minas Mar's history with Cultivators, but this guy didn't seem like a member of the Silk River Sect, who should have suffered the most. he looked dark and evil, the aura he gave off was cruel and brutal.

“Hmm, i see. What did they do to you?” the knight played along, lowering his lance. Of course, he had no intention to agree with the other, but it was a good method to buy some time. This man seemed strong, engaging with him would either be a hard or an expensive fight.

The more time he bought, the better the chances became. Although the initial situation in this battle seemed dire, as both sides seemed to suffer tremendous damage. However, there was a great difference between the cultivators and the players.

In general, Cultivators were strong warriors or magicians with strong individual battle prowess. Even when working together in so-called formations, these had either either offensive or defensive purposes.

Players on the other hand existed in a party system for the most part. They had various roles and specializations to work together and survive in a dungeon. What they had that cultivators didn't have were Healers.

Unlike the players, cultivators had no way to quickly recover in the middle of combat. Some may have had strong regeneration or consumables, but nothing could compare to the convenience and speed of healers and health potions.

Although it seemed like an even fight in the beginning with many Oathguards and aerial strikers leaving the battlefield in the same numbers as cultivators and beasts, most of the players returned to get healed by their party members and the aerial strikers repaired themselves on the ground. As time went on, their side grew stronger, whittling away at the cultivator army.

So, the more time Caleb bought, the higher the chance that he didn't have to face this guy alone.

“Ha, I know you are buying time, but I don't mind. I will satiate your curiosity. My elders went to the length of gifting these savages with the grace of the Blood Berserk Pill and as thanks they colluded with the despicable Mount Crane Sect to strike us.”

Caleb cocked his head. That called up a memory.

“Wait, wasn't that this weird super-addictive drug that turned people into mindless beasts?” he asked disgustedly.

“They were blessed with the power of the Berserk Demon. It is their fault if their mind is too weak to handle this blessing,” the Dark Sovereign said leisurely.

“And then those guys that got the blessing, got into the next batch of pills, wasn't that it?” Caleb wanted to throw up at the thought that people ate medicine made by other people.

“To serve their essence to a greater goal, is the final price to pay for blessing received. Do not besmirch their sacrifice as something unclean,” the cultivator warned him.

“Don't try to make it sound nice. I heard you people poisoned refugees with the stuff. You fed it to unsuspecting people that's huakh-” Caleb gagged at the thought. The disgust it brought him, had seared that story into the back of his mind. Knowing that this was the guy responsible for these acts gave Caleb the shove he needed to drop his original plan.

Rip! The sound of a scroll being used.

There was nothing left to say, no more time to buy. Caleb decided that this was worth the price. He had already buffed himself with potions earlier. After ripping a scroll, he charged at the dark sovereign on Wyvern’s back.

Now this fight was more even. The flying lizard swiped its claws at the fiendish cultivator. Barely evading, his robes ripped, exposing a pale, perfectly trained chest. His hand shot up, but not to protect his chastity, but to defend against the lance that weaved in between the claw attack.

The tip of the relic-rated lance tore the skin of his palms, but Caleb could tell that he jumped backward to mitigate the damage, otherwise he would have at least pierced the man’s hands. Coming to a halt after tumbling back through the air for a few steps, his opponent grumbled.

“You have thrown my mercy to the wind. I will make you regret choosing to fight me,” the man barked, pulling an ominous black whip from his sleeves. The black, shiny surface resembled the carapace of a bug, oozing with a dark aura, like a curse.

“As if you weren’t fast enough, now you even pulled out a whip? Didn’t your partner tell you that’s not manly to be too quick?” Calebs taunted, moments before Wyvern let loose a massive breath attack that covered the man and the surface of half a football field.

“It is not the duration, but the endurance that counts!” the Dark Sovereign exclaimed, swinging his arm over and over. By quickly lashing out, he created a barrier around himself to block the flames.

“That’s what they all say, but we know it's not true~” Caleb laughed, stabbing forward, using . The energy attack released from his mighty lance passed through the remnants of the breath, absorbing the elder wyvern’s fire to further strengthen the speed and attack power.

The brightly shining lance exploded on the dark ball the cultivator had created around himself, bursting it. With a cry, the Dark Sovereign was thrown away, tumbling through the air.

The cultivator was able to catch himself, a moment before crashing into a rooftop. Yet, he got close enough for one of the golems to take a swipe at him. He evaded the surprise attack in a hurry, shooting a glare at the golem, before turning to Caleb again.

“Where are you going, Quickshot? Are you running away from facing a real man?” the Dark Sovereign suddenly suffered a taunt from behind. “It’s not like I don’t understand you. How could a coward like you dare to face a real male like this general Orc!” the ugly beast on the rooftop laughed heartily.

“You little!” pulling the slightly damaged whip taut, he was ready to attack the orc golem. It was the perfect chance for Caleb, With an Overwhelming , he rammed his lance into the Dark Sovereign’s back.

With the center of his upper body missing, he tumbled to the ground.