Watching such a duel, Erica felt a strange illusion.
It was as if the swordsmanship she had practiced for years was all flashy and impractical.
Purely ornantal, utterly useless in reality.
The duel before her eyes could hardly be said to involve swordsmanship at all.
It was simply the purest form of striking—the most optimal attack.
One could say that each swing was a unique motion.
So appeared almost identical, but in reality, the force behind the swing, the angle of attack, the grip on the sword—all varied subtly.
Every move adapted to the enemy's changes, each strike a vicious, lethal blow, sharp and cunning.
Thus, even when the Sword God, also known as the God of War, used an Authority to enhance himself, he was quickly adapted to and suppressed once more by the master Erica served.
This situation was akin to a genius in Go facing off against a computer.
No matter how intelligent he was, his brain's processing speed couldn't match the computer's calculations.
In an instant, the computer could analyze his every move, computing countless outcos to predict his strategy.
Therefore, the master she served now resembled a pure killing machine, his actions not so monotonous, pre-set program with predictable patterns that could be deciphered.
His movents were driven by the experience of countless battles; among the myriad techniques used in slaying countless foes, every move the God of War before him employed could be found and countered.
Thus, the God of War would soon exhaust his tricks.
Using the sa move a second ti wouldn't just result in it being blocked—it would instead beco his fatal weakness.
Hence, when the God of War ran out of techniques, it would be the mont of his defeat.
"Fear those who possess wings, evil ones and mighty ones alike! Fear , for I bear wings! My wings shall bring you a curse! The evil cannot strike down!"
A new spell was chanted by this God of War, and the phantom of a phoenix flickered across his form.
Thereafter, the God of War, who had been gradually falling into disadvantage, saw his agility enhanced as well.
The next instant, he leveraged astonishing leaping power to create distance from the duel's master.
Originally, this God of War had intended to create space earlier but found himself relentlessly pinned down.
The slightest misstep would have ant being torn apart!
Thus, only through the new spell and the power of his newfound incarnation did this God of War successfully break away.
"It's truly unimaginable—just how much slaughter have you experienced, how many beings have you slain, to make every strike a fatal blow?"
The God of War spoke these words with a bitter smile, his hand once again touching his neck. He felt a damp, slightly viscous liquid—his neck had been cut yet again.
The opponent before him seed to target decapitation with nearly every move.
Therefore, he believed that no one in the world—no, not even among the gods he knew—could execute beheadings more masterfully than this foe.
"In truth, all the sword strikes you've faced during our duel were techniques I use for assassination."
These words stunned the God of War, and even Erica was left speechless.
Wait, that's considered assassination?
Shouldn't it be described as a berserker going wild?
"As long as the target is killed and no one knows the killer's identity, doesn't that qualify as assassination?"
He followed with this seemingly logical sophistry.
"Hahaha, indeed!"
The God of War laughed heartily.
"Then, I shall now employ other Authorities. My apologies, for in a pure contest of swordsmanship, I am truly no match for you."
"No need for apologies. This is a battle of life and death, not a sword competition. Pouring forth everything, using any ans to achieve victory—that in itself is a form of strength!!!"
"Correct! Then, allow to witness your true power as well!!"
As the God of War spoke these words, he also raised the golden sword in his hand high.
"I am the strongest, the one who holds all victories!"
With the chanting of the words of power, the God of War's figure seed to be coated in a layer of golden radiance.
"Whether human or demon—I am the one who crushes the hostility of all enemies! I will defeat any foe that stands in my way! O bull with shining golden horns, grant your aid!"
As these words fell, the God of War stamped the ground with a bit more force, causing the earth to tremble.
At this mont, he was imbued with monstrous strength!
At the sa ti, a fierce wind howled, and four massive tornadoes ford around him, closing in on his opponent from all sides.
Then, just as they were about to converge—
"What—!"
The young God of War was stunned, for the tornadoes suddenly halted their assault.
It wasn't that the opponent had cast so defensive spell to block them; rather, after reaching out and touching them, the tornadoes instantly submitted to the other.
After a mont of shock, he imdiately intensified the power of his Authority, forcing the tornadoes to crush his opponent.
Yet, a bizarre scene unfolded.
The four tornadoes began to clash with one another, tangling together until they ultimately dissipated.
"So, you also possess the Authority to command the wind."
After taking a slight deep breath, the God of War enveloped his sword with wind, then swiftly swung it down toward the earth.
This destructive strike, combining the power of Wind and Bull, ford a terrifying shockwave that shattered the ground, creating a crustal tsunami-like annihilation that surged toward his opponent.
At the sa ti, the God of War imdiately seized the opportunity to charge forward, using the destruction as cover.
But the mont he rushed into the cloud of dust, he abruptly halted, as if he had stepped into another world.
"Verethragna, in Zoroastrianism, is the na given to the most sacred fla, aning the Fla of Victory, and is interpreted as the archangel who defeated Angra Mainyu—one of the prototypes of Michael."
As these words of power resounded, the God of War—Verethragna—frowned.
He felt a force attaching itself to his body, attempting to take control of him.
Simultaneously, the chaotic world began to transform.
It was the scene of his past battle against the highest god of the evil realm, Angra Mainyu. Had he returned to that mont?
Suddenly, the image flickered and beca illusory, overlapping with another vision—one of an angel vanquishing a demon.
And that angel... was himself?
The angel's form was rging with his own, fusing into him!
At the sa ti, a thought arose in his mind—a desire to submit to soone.
Submit to the Lord!
That Lord was the very one now chanting his deeds through words of power.
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