System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)

Chapter 775: Chapter 775: The Warrior’s Rift

Ethan tightened his grip on his sword hilt, holding back raw frustration. The Emperor’s intervention hadn’t been a simple request for order; the subtle pressure the sovereign radiated across the chamber seemed to favor the old protector, suppressing the fluidity of Ethan’s mana to hand Garth an artificial advantage.

Garth, seeing the spectral tide vanish and sensing the room’s weight cornering his opponent, let out a grotesque, blood-stained laugh.

"Hahaha! Now let’s see where you’ll hide, you miserable rat!" the elder boasted, lunging forward with a contorted face.

Ethan began dodging through pure instinct, igniting his Dao Heart’s perception to read the enemy’s energy flow. The storm of thrusts and punches wrapped in dark golden fire showed no signs of stopping; the old man was a furious tide of heavy, relentless strikes.

"Crul, analyze him," Ethan commanded within his mind to his spirit ring’s consciousness.

In a matter of milliseconds, a runic vision projected directly onto his pupils. Crul displayed Garth’s internal mana pathways: the explosions weren’t originating from his sword, but directly from his chest before cascading down his limbs. However, interrupting such a storm seemed like a suicidal mission. The old man’s sheer power was terrifying, and the terrain gave him no favors.

"Damn it... I didn’t want to do this!" Ethan cursed through gritted teeth.

Making a split-second choice, Ethan abandoned his defense and dove directly into the heart of the tempest.

Garth unleashed a destructive blast aimed straight at his front. At the very last moment, Ethan twisted his torso; the shockwave caught him full force along his side, tearing away his gala robe, flesh, and skin off his face in a spray of blood. Ignoring the searing pain, he tore through the flames and penetrated the elder’s guard.

Channeling his strength into a single point, Ethan thrust his black sword directly into the center of Garth’s chest.

"Hunting Crane Strike!" Ethan shouted, executing a technique from the Heavenly Sword Sect to conceal the true nature of his power.

The thrust pierced Garth’s mana core with lethal precision, driving straight through his torso and leaving a gaping, bloody hole in the middle of his chest.

The elder froze in place, staggering in utter shock. Ethan took a step back, his right arm badly mangled and half his face torn open, yet holding a victorious, unyielding smirk.

"You... monster...!" Garth managed to utter, gritting his teeth as his life drained from his chest. "Too foolish! Go to hell!"

"You don’t have much left either," Garth spat with venom. "I’ll wait for you there..."

Without wasting time on words, Ethan reached his left hand into his spatial ring, pulled out a vial of Divine Potion, and chugged it in a gulp. Within seconds, the torn skin on his face began to regenerate, and the broken bones in his arm snapped back into place with a mystic click, sealing his wounds as if by magic.

Ethan wiped a trickle of blood from his chin, staring down at the dying elder with cold mockery.

"I don’t think so, you old fool."

Garth’s eyes widened in absolute horror before he collapsed lifeless onto the glass floor.

The silence that washed over the hall wasn’t solely due to the protector’s death, but rather the ridiculous healing display the entire court had just witnessed. The eyes of diplomats, kings, and ministers were locked on Ethan with almost palpable greed; a potion capable of regenerating flesh and knitting broken bones within seconds was a supreme celestial treasure. Even the Emperor, from his throne, widened his eyes slightly, unable to hide a spark of shock at what he had just seen. Where on earth had that brat obtained such an elixir?

At the main tables, more than one elder was already mentally calculating what they would have to offer—or seize—to acquire at least a vial of that substance.

The Emperor regained his composure and shifted his gaze toward the slender youth in his retinue. With a nearly imperceptible movement, he offered a slight nod.

Upon receiving the signal, the youth stood up with deliberate calm and began descending the staircase.

Upon seeing him move, a murmur of astonishment and dismay rippled across the delegations’ balcony. Several kings and generals straightened abruptly in their seats. Even Great General Vaelen and King Alaric clenched their fists as their faces turned pale.

"Damn it..." Vaelen muttered through gritted teeth. "Why on earth did that guy move?"

The youth reached the edge of the arena and looked down at Ethan with a serene smile that radiated not an ounce of killing intent, yet possessed an overwhelming weight.

"You did very well, kid," the youth said in an affable tone. "You are truly powerful."

Ethan locked eyes with him. The individual’s presence was so vast that the air around him seemed to warp.

"Crul, analyze him," Ethan commanded in his mind.

"Master, I cannot scan him directly," Crul warned immediately within his consciousness. "His power could detect my probe just like the Emperor’s, but I can assure you he is at least a full realm above Great General Vaelen."

Tch... Nothing but damned monsters in this place, Ethan thought, stifling a sigh of frustration.

"Thank you, Your Excellency," Ethan replied with a brief nod. "It is an honor to receive your compliment."

The youth observed the obvious superficiality and coldness in Ethan’s greeting, letting out a soft, amused chuckle.

"You don’t know who I am, do you?" the youth asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ethan was on the verge of spitting out a response loaded with his usual sarcasm, but he bit his tongue just in time, remembering the crushing pressure both this man and the Emperor could exert.

"I apologize," Ethan said in a calm voice, adopting an expression of fake modesty. "I am merely a simple peasant who has never stepped out to see the immensity of the world."

The youth let out an open, hearty laugh that echoed off the marble walls, genuinely amused by Ethan’s response.

"I didn’t expect there to be anyone in this Empire who didn’t know me," the youth said, tilting his head slightly with a friendly smile. "My name is Vorian, and I am known as ’One Strike, One Life.’ What do you think? Do you recognize me now?"

Upon hearing that name, Ethan froze for a second, not quite knowing what to say. Recognize him? Of course he had heard of him. Tales circulated even in the furthest reaches of the south: the strongest swordsman in the entire Empire and perhaps the whole continent, the legendary imperial enforcer who had never needed to deliver a second strike to claim his enemies’ lives.

Ethan stared at him in silence, a cold shiver running down his spine as he finally grasped the true magnitude of the monster standing right before him.

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