Chapter 660: Chapter 395: Levels are Meaningless
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"I hope you can forgive me for not answering," Yan Xiaobao said, his voice steady as if he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by the Saint before him. His cold gaze and suppressed killing intent briefly stunned the towering Saint. Moments later, the Saint burst into laughter. "I understand, I understand," he said between laughter. "Alright, no need to worry, I’ll mount your head beside me. Your actual rank means nothing."
"Well, why don’t we see if you’re capable of that," Yan Xiaobao responded, summoning his golden martial wings. As he ascended into the sky, the red fog surged outward, forming the wolf heads. Born of the crimson mist, their eyes gleamed like rubies, and their teeth were as sharp as razor blades. As they charged towards the expert still standing atop the wall, many wolf heads howled loudly. Seeing wolves soaring through the air, disbelief washed over the Saint’s face. It was as though he was gazing upon a hybrid of creatures beyond imagination, something he’d never encountered before.
Unfortunately, the expert wasn’t so easily shaken. Regaining his composure quickly, he repelled the wolf heads using his martial power. Despite creating a barrier, his astonished eyes betrayed him once more when one wolf managed to sink its teeth into his leg, draining a significant amount of blood.
Witnessing this, Yan Xiaobao knew he’d been underestimated. His eyes turned as frigid as the coldest winter, and his lips curled into a cold sneer. Blue flames burst forth from his entire body as he waited for the opportune moment to incinerate the Saint. Though their levels of governance were worlds apart, Yan Xiaobao couldn’t help but feel that as long as he was underestimated, the advantage would be his.
Seeing the blue flames engulfing Yan Xiaobao, the Saint was visibly startled. He was a Saint, and he knew well how rare blue flames were. Their creation required immense energy, and these flames were far more dangerous than the ordinary red flames mastered by most experts.
The Saint’s lips curled into a smile as he watched the young werewolf cloaked entirely in blue fire. His hand gripped the warhammer’s handle tightly, and his eyes sparkled as he looked at the youth before him. "You seem to have a lot of secrets," said the Saint, licking his lips with excitement, "which explains why you’re the Great Marshall. Add to that, this kind of power... How could you have grown so strong so quickly?" He spoke as if they were acquaintances meeting for the first time, expressing polite curiosity rather than the deadly rivalry of two experts clashing on a battlefield.
Despite the barrage of questions, Yan Xiaobao remained silent. While his opponent appeared relaxed and talkative, it was clear he possessed the capability to act in this manner. Meanwhile, Yan Xiaobao operated on the power of Lan Feng, which was limited.
Realizing Yan Xiaobao had no intention of answering, the towering Saint sighed deeply, as if someone had robbed him of his greatest joy. His previously cheerful expression soured slightly as he started spinning the warhammer in circles, as if it were as light as a feather. His face no longer radiated happiness; instead, it was filled with a sense of irritation.
"I truly hope you’ve got something hidden up your sleeve," the Saint said, his voice now low and threatening, his demeanor completely transformed. "I don’t know what it means to hold back. I’ll be coming at you with everything I’ve got," he declared, gripping the hammer in his hand—a sight that made Yan Xiaobao feel a sliver of unease. Though Yan Xiaobao was a beast, he faced a Saint far stronger than himself, wielding a warhammer large enough to crush his body with a single strike.
Yan Xiaobao’s gaze locked onto the man before him. Despite his growing apprehension, he knew he had no choice but to press forward with all his might. Hearing the sounds around him, collisions and shockwaves echoed in a tumultuous cacophony, shaking his body and forcing him to stagger where he stood. Yan Xiaobao was unnerved, guessing that other Saints were already locked in combat. It was likely that none of them could spare assistance for their Great Marshall, leaving Yan Xiaobao alone to face a Saint of overwhelming power—far stronger than the many others battling nearby.
As Yan Xiaobao pondered over his circumstances, he suddenly felt danger looming before him and retreated from the Saint at the fastest pace possible. "Oh, well done!" the Saint praised, as his warhammer struck the spot Yan Xiaobao had occupied less than a second ago. Wasting no time, the hammer swung again mid-air, targeting its next position.
Sensing the impending threat, Yan Xiaobao pushed his Speed Flow to its limit, narrowly dodging the warhammer’s relentless strikes from all angles. He felt the pressure mounting with each moment, the danger growing with every attack. Although Yan Xiaobao wished to counterattack, it was nearly impossible; the warhammer continued its ceaseless rotations, relentlessly hunting him down.
Clenching his teeth, Yan Xiaobao studied the towering Saint’s pattern of swings. At first, the movements seemed entirely random, but after evading about twenty strikes, he finally discerned a rhythm. Noticing this, the Saint’s eyes shimmered with astonishment, his lips curling into a smile. His face displayed a childlike glee that made Yan Xiaobao feel even more uneasy.