However, just as Lance was bracing for combat, his opponent’s brow furrowed, and he spoke up.
"What, do we have to introduce ourselves before we fight now? What’s the matter? If my Divine Kingdom is too weak, I’m not even qualified to fight you? The universe is a massive place; it’s perfectly normal that you haven't heard of ."
Lance was at a total loss for words.
Did everyone think he was obligated to know who they were?
As soon as he spoke, Jalen’s expression turned icy.
"Judging by your tone, you’re definitely not from a First-Class Divine Kingdom, are you? Good. In that case, I don’t have to hold back!"
The temperature seed to drop as Jalen’s face hardened.
What Lance didn’t realize was that while users in The Virtual Universe could choose to keep their profiles private—as Lance was doing now—he was a special case. The only reason God-Emperor Mortis had been able to track his information was because Lance possessed a Tier 13 starship despite not having a registered civilization.
Furthermore, registering a civilization would have been nearly impossible for him; his civilization was technically only Tier 8, and that was only because of his own personal power. Without a registered civilization protected by The Virtual Universe, any civilization higher than Tier 13 could easily bypass privacy filters.
Lance's status as a freelancer was even more awkward. Theoretically, freelancers were protected, but he had previously linked his information to the Dark-Heaven Universal God-Realm. So of his data was accessible through them, and God-Emperor Mortis had followed those breadcrumbs to uncover Lance’s entire history.
Of course, that wouldn't work now. If anyone tried to investigate Lance at this mont, only The Supre God of Ruin would have the authority to access his files.
The situation for others was different. Although they also hid their personal details, those at the top of the leaderboards had been seen by countless people, and their backgrounds had long since been leaked. Maintaining true secrecy was impossible at that level.
A quick search would usually reveal that a top-tier contestant was either a mber of a First-Class Divine Kingdom’s royal family or the scion of a massive, influential clan. So were even descendants of The Supre God of Ruin!
Essentially, they were all familiar faces.
If you challenged a genius who turned out to be the successor to your own family's superior and failed to show proper "respect," you could face brutal retaliation in the physical world. Therefore, the reason Jalen was asking for Lance's identity was for his own safety and the safety of his clan. Not everyone was a "nobody" like Lance.
"Are you going to attack or just keep talking?" Lance asked, genuinely annoyed by the delay.
"Sword God Array!"
Jalen didn't waste words. He slamd his longsword violently into the ground.
Vroom!
In an instant, endless runes began to surge from the blade. These runes spread in every direction like a flood, manifesting into a massive Tier 8 Low-Grade formation.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The next mont, countless flying swords erupted from Jalen’s Subspace Ring. These blades shot out at terrifying speeds, spreading across the formation and hovering over every node of the array.
"A Sword Array Master? This kid has so tricks up his sleeve!"
Lance imdiately recognized the combat style. A Sword Array Master, as the na implied, combined swordsmanship with formation arts. Such cultivators were extrely rare in the universe.
After all, a person's energy was limited. Mastering a single path was usually enough to drive a person to the brink; trying to master two often resulted in the cultivator failing to excel at either. Usually, both paths ended up weak. However, if one possessed enough talent—and a soul-splitting technique similar to the one Lance practiced—that weakness could be completely mitigated.
Such a combination made a cultivator incredibly formidable among peers of the sa rank. Clearly, Jalen was exactly that kind of genius.
Furthermore, his talent for formations was clearly superior, already reaching Tier 8. The power of this Sword Array was nothing to scoff at.
A high-quality Tier 8 Low-Grade formation, combined with Jalen’s own Triple Sword Intent, could potentially slay even a Stellar Class (Rank 0) powerhouse. This was the true strength of the current Top 10 on the leaderboard.
Unfortunately for Jalen, Lance’s combat power was far beyond a re Stellar Class (Rank 7).
Lance stood his ground, watching the display with a calm gaze.
"Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin!" Jalen roared.
He soared into the sky. Below him, the hundreds of thousands of flying swords within the array let out a collective, piercing hum and followed him into the air.
Hundreds of thousands of Tier 8 Mid-Grade flying swords.
Jalen was wealthy beyond belief.
This was likely the primary reason these low-level warriors could fight across an entire major realm. They practiced Tier 11, Tier 12, or even Tier 14 and 15 techniques, and they wielded weapons that far outclassed their own cultivation levels. Jalen was the epito of this; he unleashed hundreds of thousands of Tier 8 weapons as if they were cheap trinkets.
With such overwhelming resources, it would be strange if he couldn't jump ranks.
As a cultivator grew stronger and their realm increased, the ability to fight across ranks would gradually diminish. Eventually, upon reaching the God-King realm and beyond, the gap would close entirely. At that level, everyone practiced peak-tier techniques and used identical grades of weaponry. The difference in strength beca marginal; even the most gifted could only fight across one or two minor sub-ranks. Those "once-in-a-trillion-year" geniuses who could jump two major realms in the Grandmaster stage would eventually find themselves among equals.
"Die!"
While Lance was lost in thought, a thunderous roar shook the sky. Jalen swung his sword down with a violent flourish.
The hundreds of thousands of longswords descended like a tallic deluge. They moved so fast that they tore through the air, creating a chorus of ear-piercing shrieks.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
In the next heartbeat, every single sword slamd into Lance without a single miss. The terrifying force caused Lance’s body to instantly explode, his flesh and blood ruthlessly pulverized by the rampaging sword qi.
"Hmph, so he’s nothing but a fraud! He probably only lucked into the tenth spot because the previous ranker didn't accept the challenge. Luck like that is hard to co by; he should have stayed quiet and guarded his position. Staying in the top ten for even a day is a feat, yet he insists on challenging just to get a beating!"
Jalen scoffed at the sight.
"Lucky stars" like this were common. The top ten weren't always available to defend their titles—sotis they were busy with cultivation or breakthroughs, leaving their ranks vulnerable to those who happened to be in the right place at the right ti. Usually, these people had so self-awareness; they’d take a screenshot for social dia to brag, wait out the challenge-immune period, and then let themselves be knocked back down the next day.
He never expected Lance to actually try and fight him. It was pure suicide.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Even as Jalen’s mind raced with disdain, his hundreds of thousands of flying swords continued to relentlessly puml the earth.
However, as ti passed, Jalen realized sothing was wrong.
"Wait, what is this?"
Jalen’s expression shifted. He watched as Lance’s flesh, shredded into bloody fragnts one mont, knit itself back together the next. Lance’s body was trapped in a frantic, terrifying cycle of total destruction and instantaneous rebirth.
"Impossible... what race is he? He can’t be one of The Desolates. No one from that race possesses such a horrifying regenerative speed!"
Jalen’s voice turned grim. Even with a powerful talent, a mber of The Desolates couldn't possibly heal this fast. But if he wasn't one of them, what the hell was he?
Lance, however, ignored Jalen’s confusion. His power was surging at an explosive rate.
Before long, his CON stat hit its absolute peak.
No, I have to stop. If I push my strength any further, I’ll break through to the Planetary realm, and I’ll lose out on the rewards for the Great Grandmaster tier!
Lance’s eyes flickered, and he forcefully halted his cultivation.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The Tier 8 flying swords that had been carving through his flesh monts ago now bounced off his skin with a tallic ring. So even developed hairline fractures upon impact.
"No... how is this possible?!"
Jalen’s face paled. He couldn't believe his eyes. Lance was shattering Tier 8 weapons with his bare skin. If he was this durable, why the hell had he allowed himself to be hacked to pieces earlier? Was the man a masochist?
"Break!"
Suddenly, Lance let out a thunderous roar. He pointed a single finger toward the void.
RUMBLE!
In an instant, the massive sword array situated thousands of kiloters away shattered into pieces.
"Gah!"
Jalen let out a choked cry as the violent backlash hit him, causing him to spray a mouthful of blood. In the sky, the hundreds of thousands of flying swords lost their guidance and rained down toward the ground.
"A sword array isn't ant to be used like that. Here, let teach you!"
Lance grinned. He tapped his spear against the empty air.
HUMMM—!
Countless array runes flooded outward like a tidal wave, saturating the void in every direction.
VROOOM!
The swords scattered across the ground began to vibrate, emitting a collective, piercing wail. Under Jalen’s horrified gaze, the fallen blades shot into the sky, drawn into Lance’s formation. As they rged with the array, the sheer power of the runes forced the weapons together, fusing them into a single, colossal flying sword.
"What kind of sword array is this? I’ve never even heard of it! And this aura... how can it be this terrifying? Isn't this just a Low-Tier 8 formation?" Jalen stamred, his face white as bone.
"Heaven-Slaying Sword Array. Eradicate!"
Lance didn't bother with explanations. He swept his spear through the air with a low growl.
CLANG!
Following a world-shaking chi, the thousand-ter-long blade tore through space, shooting forward with blinding speed.
"Damn it!"
Jalen’s face twisted in desperation. He slamd his sword into the void once more.
WHIRR!
Another array manifested. Suddenly, a staggering million more flying swords erupted from his Subspace Ring.
Lance montarily froze, staring at the display. Are you kidding ? A Great Grandmaster carrying over a million perfect-grade Tier 8 swords? Are you here to fight or just to show off how rich you are?
Annoyance flared in Lance’s chest. The speed of the Heaven-Slaying Sword doubled instantly.
"Slay!" Jalen bellowed.
The million swords lined up in a single, massive stream, hurtling toward Lance’s giant blade. They collided in a heartbeat.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The sky scread with the sound of continuous explosions. Every boom signaled the destruction of a perfect-grade Tier 8 sword, ground into tallic dust. In less than a second, all one million blades were obliterated.
"I... I lost. I actually lost to a sword array..."
Despair washed over Jalen. He had been utterly defeated in the one discipline he took the most pride in. He wanted to ask what rank the technique was, but the opportunity never ca. In a flash, the Heaven-Slaying Sword reduced Jalen to ash.
CRACK!
The giant sword finally shattered, its fragnts raining down like glitter.
"The durability hit its limit. I suppose asking it to grind through a million Tier 8 weapons was a bit much."
Lance didn't mind the loss of the sword. He knew he likely wouldn't use this array again—he wasn't wealthy enough to burn through hundreds of thousands of weapons in a single move. Even if he could afford it, it was a hell of a waste.
Ding! Congratulations. You have slain the 9th ranker. You have successfully ascended to Rank 9!
A notification echoed in his mind.
"Continue the challenge," Lance said to the void, his voice flat and determined.
System Notification: A massive stockpile has been detected!
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