Watching the trajectory of Charles White's blade was like a gentle breeze gliding by—elusive and light. The Cloak Blade Technique! Leonard Harper's heart tightened. He had mastered the Drought Demon Golden Armor Technique, tempering his skin with medicine and vital energy until it was as tough as a zombie's hide—hard as iron and numb to pain. Ordinary blades and swords couldn't cut him, and even those one or two levels above him would struggle to injure him. But the Cloak Blade Technique was different. This was a secret art of the Tianxie Sect, passed down only to a select few of the true bloodline. Guided by the Myriad Evils Return to the Sect method, it was as formless as the wind, leaving no trace, and when needed, as cold and deadly as a blade. It was a renowned technique for breaking through defenses, able to find the body's most vulnerable spots and slice open the skin with ease—sometimes without even causing pain. Those who died under the Cloak Blade Technique often never knew how they died; at most, a thin line of blood would be found on the corpse.

Leonard Harper, known as the Lion King, was a master of hardening techniques and rarely used weapons—his bare hands were his killing tools. Yet even he dared not take Charles White's Cloak Blade head-on. With a flick of his right hand, a massive broadsword appeared—given to him by Elder Harper, a weapon of the Shangyuan grade.

“Three moves!” Charles White still wore that corpse-like face, speaking coolly as he stepped forward. The blade in his hand traced a slow arc through the air, leaving a string of afterimages—like fine rain in the wind, swaying and unpredictable, impossible to follow.

Battle-Breaking Slash!

The broadsword in Leonard Harper's hand gathered a surge of powerful blade energy, slashing toward Charles White. The domineering, fierce energy crashed down like raging waves, enveloping Charles White as if to swallow him whole.

William Harper watched coldly from the sidelines, as if the struggle between Leonard Harper and Charles White had nothing to do with him. The gap in their levels destined him to be just an observer. With a single move, he could already see the difference between Leonard Harper and Charles White. Leonard Harper's moves looked fierce and overwhelming, but to William Harper, it was an extreme waste—using so much energy to create such a massive surge was just for show. It would be better to simply draw a light cut across the opponent's throat.

William Harper had seen through it long ago: Leonard Harper's ferocity was just a cover for his fear of death. Otherwise, he wouldn't wear such thick, high-defense armor on his chest. In contrast, the emotionless and cold Charles White was far stronger than Leonard Harper.

The two figures clashed in midair several times in an instant—so fast that William Harper and Henry Harper couldn't make out their moves. They could only vaguely discern their positions: Leonard Harper was like a storm, while Charles White was like drifting rain in the air. No matter how fierce the storm, it could never tear apart the swaying raindrops.

“Let's go!” William Harper said to the just-awakened Henry Harper, and the two of them dashed madly into the forest. He could tell that Leonard Harper was already showing signs of defeat—if they didn't run now, they'd have no chance. Falling into Leonard Harper's hands wouldn't be too bad for now, but if they ended up with Charles White, it would be a different story.

“Reverse Wind Blade Dance.” Always on the defensive, Charles White suddenly struck. His blade accelerated in a flash. At that moment, as William Harper and Henry Harper looked back, they saw the rainbow arc of the Cloak Blade sweep through the air like a meteor, trailing a long tail.

The arc swept across Leonard Harper. He raised his broadsword to block, and with a crisp clang, his decades of battle experience kicked in at the critical moment. Though he couldn't fully block Charles White's Reverse Wind Blade Dance, he managed to make a defensive move, preventing Charles White from advancing any further.

The two instantly separated. Leonard Harper staggered to his feet, gasping for breath. A thin line of blood slowly spread across his arm, and with a splatter, blood gushed out as one of Leonard Harper's arms fell from the air.

Leonard Harper's face turned pale. He quickly took out a pill and swallowed it, and the bleeding soon stopped.

“What a fast blade.” Leonard Harper felt a surge of fear. The gap between him and Charles White was not small.

“Second move.” Seeing William Harper and Henry Harper fleeing, Charles White still calmly raised the Cloak Blade and suddenly accelerated, slashing toward Leonard Harper.

“Spinning Break Slash!” It was as if Leonard Harper had made a difficult decision. The broadsword in his hand shone brilliantly and flew from his grip like a giant propeller, spinning rapidly and sending sword energy in all directions.

With his right hand now free, he pulled a handful of steel beads from his storage pouch. As soon as he threw them, countless steel beads rained down on Charles White like a torrential downpour.

Leonard Harper cast a reluctant glance in the direction where William Harper and Henry Harper had escaped, then dashed madly in the opposite direction.

“Trying to run? Not so easy. Wind Strike!” Charles White raised his blade and struck. With a clang, the broadsword flying toward him was cut in two by Charles White, and the tip of the blade sent a massive wave of blade energy sweeping toward the steel beads Leonard Harper had thrown.

In Charles White's mind, his Wind Strike should have been enough to knock away those steel beads. Unexpectedly, the beads suddenly emitted a sharp buzzing, like a swarm of bees, changing trajectory in midair to dodge his Wind Strike and shooting straight at Charles White.

Charles White was startled—bee bombs!

Bang, bang, bang—the bee bombs exploded in midair like miniature grenades.

Charles White dodged in haste. Though his movements were quick, a few bee bombs still struck him. The powerful impact slammed into Charles White's chest, and with a cry, he spat out a mouthful of blood.