At that moment—

  In this direct struggle between chains and will—

  The leader’s transcendent radar suddenly jolted violently!

  It was as if an invisible thunderclap exploded deep within his soul, and he “saw”—!

  A thunderous soul pulse, leaping from beneath the heavens, erupted!

  It wasn’t light, nor shadow, but—the soul frequency of the Priest!

  The soul was breaking through its threshold, stirring, struggling, and burning!

  It was a fire of faith, roaring and howling within the soul!

  Each pulse caused the heavens to tremble;

  and every counterattack seemed to strike against the iron wall of the gods.

  "Boom—boom—boom!!!"

  The soul thundered like a war drum, rings of Buddhist light chains exploded in the air, dissolving, scattering in shockwaves!

  And that once-high-hanging, divine judgment-like [Buddha’s Palm] that had cast its shadow over the entire battlefield—

  —began to tremble!

  In fact, from the moment the battle began until now,

  the leader had always allocated a portion of his combat resources to maintain—[Buddha’s Palm].

  This wasn’t the kind of skill that ended after one use—It was a continuous, ever-present struggle that lasted throughout the entire battle.

  Even the slightest distraction, even the slightest lapse in willpower, and [Buddha’s Palm] would immediately collapse!

  It was precisely because he had gritted his teeth and held on,

  that the Priest had been firmly suppressed until now, unable to break free.

  But now—[Buddha’s Palm] was on the verge of collapsing.

  At this moment—

  His gaze slowly fell to his waist.

  The Ring-Pommel Saber—which had remained sheathed since the battle began.

  There were no excess emotions.

  Only one extremely calm thought slowly sank into his heart:

  —It’s time to use it.

  At the moment he made up his mind—

  He no longer paid attention to the thunderous chains falling from the night sky,

  Nor to the fiery chains rising from the earth;

  Not even the spatial restraints still attempting to freeze his soul—

  He no longer resisted at all.

  He simply, slowly lowered his head.

  The wind ceased, the fire quieted,

  Even the roar of the chains seemed to be pulled away, vanishing into the formless.

  Between heaven and earth, there was only him, and—

  That Ring-Pommel Saber, which had slept until now.

  His right hand slowly reached for his waist, fingers spread wide,

  As if caressing a beloved, gently resting upon it.

  His left foot stepped forward half a pace, his back slightly bent, his left shoulder pulled inward;

  His head lowered, eyes slanting down, gazing like a silent abyss.

  At this moment, he lowered his form like a mountain, steady as a peak,

  yet also like a giant beast lurking in the night, its killing intent凝聚, ready to strike at any moment.

  The world was silent, the wind dared not stir.

  Even the chains—in that instant, hesitated, stalled.

  This wasn’t a skill, but—killing intent.

  A killing intent powerful enough to shake mountains!

  A blade that had not yet been drawn,

  A gaze that had not yet been lifted,

  But it caused the temperature of the entire battlefield—to drop by 3 degrees!

  His fingers finally curled around the hilt of the sword.

  "—Click."

  A soft sound, like the awakening hum of a blade, pierced through the wind and sand, shattering the thunder.

  The Ring-Pommel Saber was slowly drawn—just 5 centimeters.

  But in that instant—

  The sky changed.

  The fierce wind suddenly stopped, the blazing flames silently extinguished.

  The temperature plummeted, as if falling into an ice-cold prison!

  Elo felt a bone-chilling cold rush toward him, as if the entire battlefield—

  had been forcibly dragged from the scorching hell into a realm of frozen death!

  What was even more terrifying was—the space itself froze.

  The blade had not fully drawn from its sheath,

  but the mere sliver of killing intent that leaked from the scabbard,

  seemed to—sever the “anchor points of reality” itself.

  "Crack!!"

  The sound exploded from the depths of the air—the space shattered!

  In the next instant—

  Boom!!

  Centered on him, the space within a three-meter radius instantly collapsed;

  Like an invisible glass sphere, it was violently torn apart and shattered under the pressure of the sword’s aura!

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  All the binding chains, whether burning red locks or roaring lightning chains,

  completely disintegrated!

  In that moment, they all shattered into a rain of red and blue light particles.

  Like countless star fragments, falling silently in the dead stillness.

  No rumble, no flash—

  But more destructive in its silence than any explosion!

  At the same time, the BOSS’s pupils suddenly constricted!

  He had known all along—the leader had not used his full strength.

  He was certain of this because that man, from beginning to end—had not drawn his sword.

  From the very start, something was wrong.

  This wasn’t a practice session or a sparring match, but a real battle of life and death.

  In such a situation, the fact that he hadn’t drawn his sword could only mean one thing:

  —There was something wrong with that sword.

  It wasn’t just an ordinary "weapon defect," but rather a weapon that—would backfire on its master.

  It sounded like an absurd legend, like some low-tier folk tale from the underworld.

  But at the BOSS’s level, he knew very well—this wasn’t unusual.

  —He had seen this happen too many times.

  Of course, weapons that backfire on their masters came in many forms, not all of them deadly.

  If it was just a minor backlash, the leader wouldn’t hesitate at all.

  But the fact that he had waited until this moment to draw the sword meant one thing:

  —This sword was extremely dangerous, so much so that even he was unwilling to face it.

  The BOSS had tried countless times in his mind, drawing on memories and knowledge, attempting to figure out the nature of this sword.

  But from the scabbard to the hilt, to the blade’s appearance—

  It was pitch black, simple, and unremarkable, as if it was an ordinary ring-pommel saber casually forged by a village blacksmith.

  No inscriptions, no aura, no distinguishing features.

  Until this moment—when the blade was finally drawn, he instantly remembered its name.

  —No Snow Falls Tonight.

  This is not just the name of the sword, but also the title of a poem:

  —After the flash of blades, even the wind fell silent.

  —In a field of thirty thousand corpses, only one shadow remained standing.

  —Now that vengeance is fulfilled, all that's left is emptiness within.

  —Tonight, there is no snow—and no name left for the man who survived.

  The author of this poem, the original wielder of this sword—the BOSS still does not know his name.

  It’s not that he hasn’t tried to investigate, but it’s simply impossible to find out.

  Why can’t he find out?

  Because—a "big figure" intervened and completely erased the story behind that poem from the world.

  The BOSS’s gaze darkened slightly.

  —Indeed, it’s somewhat troublesome.

  But it’s only—somewhat troublesome.

  It’s not a deadlock, nor does it mean he’s at a disadvantage, because he has his own trump card.

  That trump card is a holy relic from within the church, of the highest grade and with strict permissions.

  And this holy relic was personally given to him by the Princess, along with "temporary usage rights"!

  He still remembers how he felt the first time he saw that holy relic—

  It wasn’t shock, but—shock to the point of numbness.

  He even once doubted:

  —Where on earth did you get this thing from?

  If he remembered correctly, it should still be in the hands of some "big figure" within the church.

  The fact that he got his hands on it could only mean one thing:

  —The Grand Princess’s connections are frighteningly powerful.

  And now, this "authorization" is still valid, and the holy relic is still in his possession.

  So, he wasn’t worried at all, in fact, he was a little calm.

  It was as if, deep down, he silently thought to himself:

  —Come on! Who’s afraid of whom?

  At this moment, the entire battlefield fell into dead silence.

  The five knights and two mages instinctively held their breath.

  They witnessed with their own eyes as the spatial crystal shattered like glass,

  and the red and blue light fragments fell like stardust.

  But what truly shook their minds wasn’t the spectacle itself,

  but the killing intent that slowly seeped from the blade as it left its scabbard.

  The pressure wasn’t like the sharpness of a weapon,

  but more like an ancient, long-dormant monster finally opening its eyes,

  slowly extending its claws to tear through reality.

  For a moment, even the air seemed to freeze.

  No one spoke, no one moved—

  even the turbulent shockwaves of battle stopped, silent in that instant.

  At this moment, the leader’s six black-clad companions all exhaled in unison.

  The invisible pressure weighing on their hearts quietly dissipated when the spatial crystal shattered.

  However, the three knights at the front felt an even deeper sense of danger.

  The red-haired knight’s soul began to tremble slightly;

  The blonde-haired knight’s battle energy was vibrating silently within;

  The black-haired knight’s palms had already broken out in a cold sweat,

  and his energy shield in front of him even trembled involuntarily the moment the blade hummed!

  They didn’t know the name of the sword, nor its origins,

  but they knew one thing with absolute clarity:

  —They had to act immediately!

  —They had to stop him from drawing the sword!

  In fact—this sword was incredibly difficult to draw.

  Not because it was heavy, but because it was sealed with overwhelming killing intent and endless hatred.

  Once drawn, the leader would have to pour an immense amount of mental energy into constantly suppressing the tidal wave of murderous thoughts rising within it;

  Otherwise, his soul would be devoured, and his consciousness would completely drown in a sea of blood and fury.

  At that point, he would no longer be “human,” but a demon that knew nothing but slaughter.

  So... he truly didn’t want to use this sword.

  Not only because it was hard to control, but because it was too “tainted.”

  It had devoured too many souls, soaked in too much blood.

  Even though that event happened fifty years ago;

  Even though the Buddhist monks had chanted day and night to absolve it;

  All they could do was one thing—

  Make it remain quiet, temporarily resting in its scabbard.

  So why did he bring it to the battlefield?

  Because just a few days before setting off, an old Taoist had cast a divination for him.

  He said that a bloodshed was coming, and his life and death were uncertain.

  Only this sword could protect his life.

  At first, he was skeptical.

  But before the Taoist left, he suddenly turned around and said:

  —She doesn’t want you to come to harm.

  In that moment, he could no longer treat it as a mere joke.

  He sat in silence for a long time before tonight’s operation.

  In the end, what surfaced in his mind—

  was that fat, wine-soaked monk,

  always draped in oil-stained robes, eyes half-closed in a drunken haze.

  When that man handed him the sword all those years ago, he had simply said:

  —Junior brother, a sword has no good or evil, all things are determined by the heart.

  He sighed softly,

  and in the end, he still hung the sword at his waist.

  At this moment, the three figures, almost simultaneously—erupted!

  "Whoosh—!!"

  The blades broke through the air, tearing apart the airflow,

  The wind pressure turned into a furious roar, stirring in all directions!

  Invisible sword energy poured down like a torrential rain, dense like thunder, covering the sky!

  The blonde-haired knight’s longsword—like lightning falling to the ground, stabbing straight down!

  The black-haired knight’s heavy sword—like a falling star crossing the sky, slashing with fury!

  The red-haired knight’s battle energy surged, one sword turning into raging flames, the other igniting thunder and fire!

  "Boom! Boom!! Boom——!!!"

  The ground was torn into deep ravines,

  Flames surged from the earth’s core, sword energy coiled like a dragon, roaring through the air,

  Firelight, shattered rocks, and shockwaves continued endlessly!

  But none of this—meant anything.

  In that instant, all the killing intent suddenly condensed,

  Gathering in front of him to form—a blood-red shield!

  The booming strikes fell, and the sword blades slashed!

  The shield trembled violently, bloodlight surging;

  With each impact, layers of blood-colored ripples erupted from the surface, as if a sea of blood were howling, and the world itself was humming in response!

  No matter the lightning thrust of the blonde-haired knight,

  the meteor-like sweeping slash of the black-haired knight,

  or the blazing, furious strike of the red-haired knight—

  All were, without exception, swallowed and blocked!

  On that shield, the killing intent surged like a tide;

  Like thousands of blood serpents slithering, coiling and twisting;

  Constantly absorbing the residual energy and will from the attacks!

  It wasn’t resisting, it wasn’t repairing, it was—devouring!

  The more they attacked, the more violently the killing intent on the shield boiled;

  It was using the will, anger, and killing intent of both sides as fuel, growing wildly!

  At this moment, they finally realized—

  This wasn’t an energy shield, but a blood-colored maw!

  Coldly and greedily devouring every killing intent that tried to get close!

  At this moment, an undeniable thought surfaced in the minds of the three knights—

  They couldn’t break through this blood-red shield with just the three of them.

  They knew this.

  But they kept striking! They kept fighting with everything they had!

  Sword energy surged wildly, battle energy exploded, metal screamed in fury, never stopping!

  They were like three lines of fire burning through their lives, nailed firmly before the shield!

  But in the end… they couldn’t stop it.

  "Clang—!!"

  The clear ring sounded again.

  It wasn’t metal resonance, nor was it the clash of weapons,

  but something that felt like a wail from the depths of hell,

  carrying the awakening and struggle of a sleeper, echoing across the entire battlefield!

  From the scabbard, a cold, gleaming light quietly slid out—

  The cursed blade, half drawn.

  In that instant—the air froze.

  And then—

  killing intent came crashing down like a collapsing heavenly river.

  It wasn’t a tide.

  Tides belong to nature—drawn by the moon, governed by cycles.

  But this killing intent—

  it belonged neither to the world, nor to life itself.

  It was the will of death—stepping into the mortal realm.

  It had arrived.

  "Retreat!! Everyone, fall back fifty meters!!"

  On the edge of the battlefield, an officer’s eyelids twitched violently, his heart nearly bursting,

  and without hesitation, he roared the order!

  Most of the soldiers hadn’t even had time to see what was happening,

  but they instinctively felt—

  A suffocating sensation, like drowning,

  a deathly stillness like falling into an ice-cold hell.

  It wasn’t an illusion,

  It was—the soul screaming out for help!