Chapter 617 Defeat
James didn't go all out, only using seventy percent of his speed, allowing his opponent to keep up with him.
He had fought many masters recently, but most of them were multiple opponents at once, and none were at his level. He hadn't yet faced a master at the peak of the fourth stage. Now that this Slayer had come to find him, it was quite considerate.
In a secluded area, James stopped and stood with his hands behind his back, looking at the young man who had caught up, "What's your name?"
The other man also stopped. Despite running so fast that he kicked up dust and leaves, he seemed relaxed and graceful, not out of breath at all, as if he had always been there and hadn't just rushed over.
This person's agility was indeed impressive.
He looked at James and revealed a wild and evil smile, "My name is Slayer, and I'm here to take your life!"
Without another word, he lunged forward, his movement so fast it seemed to tear through the air. In the blink of an eye, he was right in James's face, his palm crackling with a sinister, blood-red energy. This wasn't just a strike—it was a death sentence. Even a seasoned martial artist at the third stage wouldn't have stood a chance against it.
At their level, everyone had their own strong style, which was hard for others to imitate. James was grand and majestic, like a war god, while Slayer was like a demon god from hell, wielding a scythe to harvest lives and create countless vengeful spirits. Those with weak minds would be intimidated by his aura, affecting their performance.
Of course, this had no effect on James.
Facing Slayer's palm strike, James didn't flinch. He didn't dodge or make any fancy moves, simply raising his hand to meet it with a punch, going head-to-head with Slayer.
They slammed into each other with a deafening boom, the force of their collision ripping through the air like an explosion. The shockwave blasted outward, sending a violent gust of wind in all directions, and they instantly bounced apart, the sheer power of the impact leaving the ground trembling beneath them.
Slayer's face still held a smile, but his eyes were much more serious. He had underestimated James, and now his right palm was trembling from the impact.
As for James, his fist was slightly numb but quickly returned to normal. His martial arts were inherently stronger than Slayer's.
"Not bad," Slayer said with an evil smile, continuing his attack on James.
Slayer's movements were fast and silent, exuding a cold aura as if his body were made of ice. Every time James clashed with him, cold energy seeped into his body. If not for his strong physique, he would have been injured by now.
This kind of martial art was something James had never seen before.
James held back, keeping his moves defensive. It wasn't that he couldn't take Slayer down—he just wanted to study his opponent's moves. The higher James climbed in martial arts, the more he realized how much there was to learn. Breaking through to the legendary fifth stage wasn't just about raw power; it was about absorbing the essence of others' techniques, deepening his own understanding, and finding that moment of enlightenment to shatter the barrier.
The martial arts displayed by this Slayer were something James had never seen before.
Their fight was a full-blown spectacle, the kind that made it sound like a war zone—explosions echoing nonstop, trees snapping, rocks shattering into dust.
To the average person, it might've sounded like some heavy-duty construction work. But for the martial artists nearby, the sheer pressure radiating from the fight was unmistakable. It was enough to send chills down their spines, keeping them at a distance as they whispered theories about which powerhouse could be behind such devastation.
James, meanwhile, was in his element. His adrenaline was pumping harder with every second. For twenty straight minutes, he'd been holding his ground, deflecting Slayer's relentless attacks without breaking a sweat.
At the 22-minute mark, Slayer finished his onslaught and had a brief moment to catch his breath. That's when James snapped into action—his eyes blazing like a dormant beast waking up. He let out a roar that sent chills down Slayer's spine, a primal warning that screamed danger. Instinct kicked in, and Slayer bolted, but he was no match for James's speed.
James struck, his palm descending from above, aiming straight for Slayer's skull!
At this moment, he was the war god, and the war god was him.
Slayer was terrified. He hadn't expected James to still have strength left!
He wanted to run, but he realized he couldn't escape now. The only option was to take James's attack head-on!
Slayer's reaction was incredibly quick. In an instant, he made the correct response, planting his legs firmly on the ground, connecting himself to the earth, and crossing his arms above to block James's palm.
James's lips curled in disdain. The next moment, his palm struck Slayer's arms, and the sound of bones breaking was heard. Slayer's arms couldn't withstand the pressure and dislocated, and his legs couldn't bear James's powerful strike, causing him to be driven into the ground up to his thighs!
This barely allowed him to block James's palm, which stopped 15 inches above his skull.
But this had already scared Slayer's soul out of his body.
James's strength far exceeded his estimation! He was no match for James.
Run!
Every fiber of his being screamed at him to get the hell out of there. If he stayed, James would finish him!
Slayer spun on his heel and bolted, but James's strike had already pinned him halfway into the ground. He could pull himself free, but it'd take precious seconds—seconds he didn't have. In front of a monster like James, even half a second was a death sentence.
"Trying to run? Too late," James sneered. To Slayer, it sounded like a countdown, making his scalp tingle and his heart race.
"Don't kill..." Before he could finish his sentence, James was already behind him, delivering a seemingly light palm strike that sent Slayer flying over 100 feet, crashing to the ground with a hole in his back, sinking in!
Slayer spat out a mouthful of blood, bleeding all over and losing the ability to move.
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