Chapter 135 Fight
He walked through the smoke and dust, and walked towards Soshiyang with his shoulders lowered, as if he was marching against the bite of a blizzard.
A jet black cloak was fixed at the back of his neck by a bone buckle, and the huge skull and sharp teeth of a dead beast formed his right shoulder armor, which looked like a Tyranid.
Mazar was not wearing a helmet, revealing a vicissitudes of appearance with crisscrossed ravines, like a weathered cliff, and a tuft of short gray-white hair on top of his head.
He has no beard, his cheekbones are very high, the tattoo on his chin is like an open skull jaw, and his iron-gray eyes are shining like armor, exuding an intimidating aura.
His warriors were equally wild, their weapons and armor studded with bones torn from corpses.
These soul-like warriors follow closely behind the leader, like a flock of birds flying on the air flow brought by the head geese. Many people are not even sure whether the gods of death wearing plastic steel armor will stop.
But no matter what, this naked provocative gesture made all the Astral Knights angry.
Later, Soshyan's calm voice reached every soldier's ears.
"Hold on, this is just a bluff, nothing more."
As he said, the reapers stopped and surrounded them in a semicircle.
"Master of the Astral Knights Chapter, Soshyan Alexey."
Mazar said loudly, his voice loud and harsh, like a cold predator .
"My name is Magyar, Chapter Master of the Ascetic Chapter, Lord of the Death Temple."
The next second, his scythe fell with a crash.
Soshyan also unsheathed his sword at the same time, faster than most people's naked eyes could capture, as if his cloak was curling like clouds.
Mazar greeted him with a giant scythe.
In the clash of gold and iron, a shock wave shot out from around the two people, rolling up a cloud of ashes mixed with dust.
Seeing the chapter leader being attacked, the Astral Knights all tried to take action, but Thor stopped them.
The soldiers of the Ascetic Chapter remained indifferent, as if they were used to such scenes.
"Lord Magyar, is this how you treat guests?"
Soshyan hissed, repelling the attack again.
“This is the etiquette of a warrior.”
Mazhar hummed while blocking the close-range sword.
Although holding such a heavy weapon, his movements are no slower than Soshyan's, and every attack is very solid, close and steady.
"If this can gain your respect."
Soshiyang laughed and waved the sword dexterously again.
Fighting a Chapter Master was a challenge he had long sought, and the battles he had fought in the past were nothing in comparison.
While practicing swordsmanship with Thor, he has always longed for an opponent who can hone his skills.
Soshiyang let out a low roar, lunged forward, spun sharply with one foot, and the Holy Flame sword suddenly pierced Mazar's abdomen.
But just before he was about to succeed, the giant scythe turned sideways at a tricky angle to block the attack.
The two weapons created a string of sparks as they collided and dragged.
“Too slow.”
Mazhar mocked, then he clenched the war sickle with both hands and swung it at an extremely fast speed.
Knowing that the other party was getting serious, Soshiyang also responded with 120% of his attention.
From the perspective of mortals, the fierce battle between the two Chapter Masters could only see frost blades flying and thunderbolts hidden among them, but they could not get a glimpse of the true appearance.
Every blow of Lord Magyar has the potential to split mountains and seas, but Soshyan is like a surfer on the waves, walking calmly in the stormy waves with elegant "dance steps".
This is the "sword dance" developed by the swordsmen of the Royal Court 10,000 years ago, and only a few people have mastered it so far.
Soshiyang's learning time is still short, and in Thor's opinion, he can't even perform one-tenth of the sword dance. But it is more than enough to deal with such an offensive.
The key to sword dance is to bring the opponent into your own rhythm, with the sword tip as the center of the circle, and constantly drag the opponent's attack in a semicircular movement trajectory, always keeping the opponent under the threat of your sword tip.
"Young man, you are good at swordsmanship. Who taught you this?"
Although he was led by Soshiyang, Mazhar did not seem worried and was still breathing rhythmically, and Maintain a strong desire to attack.
This battle seems to be quickly turning into an endurance race.
"Our Chapter Instructor."
Soshiyang whispered, wielding the Holy Flame, and struck out with a fatal sweep.
Mazar managed to withstand the blow, his heavy boots sinking about half an inch into the ground.
After missing a hit, Soshiyang immediately stopped his hand and launched a series of rapid sword offensives while moving in a semicircular trajectory.
The Holy Flame Sword once grazed Mazar's thick shoulder armor, causing him to stagger.
As time passed, Soshiyang's sword edge became more and more violent, and the sword body collided with the giant scythe.
"Then I'll teach you now."
After letting out a dull laugh, the legendary hero of the empire began to cheer up and approach Soshiyang with steady efficiency.
He strode closer, planted his feet firmly, and continued to unleash extremely destructive attacks.
When the two weapons collided and rebounded, only the afterimages were distorted. Sparks burst out from the double blades and flickered in the air. Every movement declared the majesty of the angel.
Soshyan was surprised to find that his dance steps were ruined, as if a barbarian suddenly broke into the banquet.
The wild and ferocious attack quickly tore apart the hypocritical mask of civilization.
“Fancy techniques can be used, but don’t ignore our own strength!”
Mazhar quickened his pace, and the scythe fell like thunder.
Soshyan withstood the blow, and the tip of the sickle was only a few inches away from his head.
“Educated.”
After saying that, he turned around and circled Mazhar in a circle, making it almost impossible to notice how he maintained his balance.
When they collided again, the impact was deafening.
The top leaders of the two war groups fought against each other, using their best in every attack.
Unconsciously, they had been fighting for half an hour.
Soshyan continued to fight, but he needed space to use his speed. He had to break free, take the initiative of the battle in his own hands, and break away from Mazar's suffocating entanglement.
Then, he summoned all his strength, slammed the scythe, and distanced himself.
On the floor cast by the shadow of Magyar holding the giant scythe high, the broken cloak looked like the terrifying god of death in human mythology.
Soshyan stood there, breathing heavily, taking a stance, waiting for the enemy to move.
Only one chance, one perfect chance to get around the scythe at the precise angle.
It must be perfect, if not, there is no turning back.
But to everyone's surprise, Mazhar stopped moving.
He put down the scythe, and a weak cough came from the neck brace. Soshyan soon realized that it was a kind of laughter.
"Enough, enough."
(End of this chapter)