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Lyon’s pupils shimmered before his hair fluttered wildly as an invisible object zipped the air beside his cheek. Like a silent bullet being shot by a highly skilled sniper, the sword intent didn’t land a single friendly fire. They narrowly passed his arms, and his legs even kissed the strand of hair at the top of his head.

“Kh!” The Seraphim had his eyes glaring at Lyon before he escaped out of range by using his wings to hover away. The sword intent missed him, but his lips twitched as he saw the deep wound left on the ground. Were he a second too late, he would be in a tighter spot.

“What in the name of Paradise!? How can someone pierce through my domain?!” The Seraphim Cultivator roared. “Where are you, show yourself!”

“Oh, you don’t think that it’s my doing?” Lyon added.

“Shut up!” the Seraphim Cultivator shouted back at Lyon.

“Hey come on, where was all the bravado you just showed me, is this all the mighty Paradise dweller has to offer, I’m a bit disappointed.”

“Shut your vile mouth mortal dweller!” the Seraphim Cultivator frowned. “Just look at your wound, you think that I’m stupid enough to guess that it was you?”

Lyon shrugged whilst smirking, “Yes, I thought that you are stupid enough to make that assumption.”

“You!!” The Seraphim Cultivator had his brows meeting each other in a frown before one of them raised. “Tch!” He hovered to the side before narrowly dodging another attack. “Where are you!?”

“What’s wrong? Still don’t think that it was me?” Lyon smirked.

“Keep talking mortal fool! See how many minutes you have left before leaving this world for good!” said the Seraphim Cultivator before he brandished his sword forward. True enough, his sword made a contact against the sword’s intent.

“To think that someone this masterful with a sword existed in this realm,” the Seraphim Cultivator frowned. ( A sword intent is supposed to be controlling the weapon with one’s soul, however, a higher level one would require no weapon at all, how is this possible? It would take numerous years for even those in Paradise to reach this kind of mastery. Don’t tell me someone from Paradise is revolting. )

“Woah, you look so serious there, what happened?” Lyon taunted. “I thought you want to kill me? I thought this would be my final resting place?”

“Tch!” The Seraphim Cultivator looked around but he couldn’t see anyone. He spread out his divine sense but couldn’t find any trace inside his domain either.

“Hey, you don’t look so good, want me to bring you some water or something? Oh, I’m sorry, does Paradise serve more than water? Do they have a wine fountain or something?”

“Shut you—?! It’s coming!” The Seraphim Cultivator frowned before sensing an ominous zipping in the air as it come to him from the front. “That trick wouldn’t work on me!” he brandished his sword and repelled the incoming attack so easily.

“Woah, you repelled that one with a twang!” Lyon smirked. “Not bad, for a guy with wings.”

( The attack frequency is getting slower. Maybe this expert is tired, of course, that kind of attack would take a heavy toll. Heh, the fool ) thought the Seraphim Cultivator as he smirked. He looked down and darted his attention toward Lyon.

“You think that savior of yours would be able to save you?” The Seraphim Cultivator laughed.

“Oh? What’s with the sudden change of emotion? You were sad a bit ago, I guess I’m a great listener huh? Hehe,” Lyon shrugged.

“Hahaha, speak what you will. All the riddles in your words meant nothing to me. The fact that your savior didn’t even dare to show himself means that you are not that important to your cause! I don’t know why you decide to go further into the deepest part of the Dark Continent, but I can always ask your cowardly ex-friend later hahaha!”

Lyon rubbed his ear canal with a finger, “Man, you should learn how to listen when someone talks.”

“Me? Listening to your mortal dweller’s lips? Please, I rather listen to a talking crab!” said the Seraphim Cultivator before brandishing his sword without looking. The sword intent was deflected so casually and brought Lyon’s brows to a furrow.

The Seraphim Cultivator smiled, “See what I did there? Your friend is getting predictable. Though I have to admit, it’s such a shame that he is on your side and not Paradise.”

“You know, you’re talking about Paradise this and Paradise that, but look at yourself in the mirror wingman.”

“What?” The Seraphim Cultivator frowned.

“You love Paradise so much, but here you are, in a Mortal World, becoming nothing but a guard,” said Lyon as he shrugged.

“Ptui! You have no idea what honor it is to do something so dutiful, so important, to the greatest realm that ever existed!” said the Seraphim Cultivator before brandishing his sword once more. ( The frequency of the attack is getting slower and slower from the previous ones, heh, looks like his friend is reaching his limit soon. ).

“I don’t know about that kind of view,” Lyon shrugged. “My guard did the same as you and he wanted a raise.”

“Tch! You brat! Don’t you lump me with the likes of a mere guard! Looks like I will have to open your eyes first!” The Seraphim Cultivator glared.

“Not this again, you talk the talk but didn’t do shit,” Lyon shrugged. “Look at you, you still hesitate to get close to me.”

“I’m—”

“Too predictable you say? What about you? You now hesitate more than a guy that was told to choose to save his mother or his wife. What’s wrong? What are you afraid of?” Lyon taunted before raising his chin and rubbing his neck. “Here, it’s clean.”

The Seraphim Cultivator clenched his jaws. His sword trembled as he saw Lyon open his arms wide, revealing no weapon or any kind of defense. However, the smirk and the vulnerability of the man that fooled him prior made his feet feel like being shackled by a mountain. To step forward or not to step forward, his mind was clouded and his judgment was hazed. To be fooled once again would hurt his pride more than the wound that could be inflicted on him. The Seraphim Cultivator finally revealed a sweat that he never thought would occur in his lifetime. A byproduct of anxiety.

( What’s wrong with me? He is just a peasant! Nothing but a bug! A mortal dweller doesn’t deserve such emotion from me! He is just a True God Cultivator, I’m a Seraph goddamnit! What in the name of Paradise is my soul hesitate of?! Just one slash! One wring! His head would lob if I’m within range!) The Seraphim Cultivator gritted his teeth as he saw the space between him and Lyon was filled with the unknown, the unknown that held all possibilities.

“To step forward, or not to step forward,” Lyon smirked. “I never thought that you would hesitate in a time like this. Should have taken the hint and not messed with me further, o Paradise dweller.”

“Grr!—?!” His brows raised before he narrowly dodged the incoming sword intent. It was a hair’s breadth away from grazing the skin of his forehead. ( Something is odd! Oh? OH! I think I understand now. Just like me, his friend has a range. Once I stepped inside the range he would release more than one sword intent to finish me off! That explains why there were two at the start! Because I was in range! Damn it! ).

“You block another one, but time is ticking,” Lyon smiled.

“Time is ticking?” The Seraphim Cultivator smirked. “Heh, what are you talking about? If anything time is on my side! You and your friend have no way of countering, that one lucky shot at the beginning was your only chance and your only attempt at wounding me! However, that kind of wound won’t be able to stop me.”

“She is here,” Lyon smiled.

“Huh? What are you talking ab—?!” The Seraphim Cultivator had his soul electrocuted. The strands of little goosebumps on his nape frost up. ( W-What’s happening?! What is this sinister aura?! What in the name of Paradise is happening now?! Huh?! Somebody just forcefully entered my domain!? Who is it? WHO IS IT?! No mortal should have been able to do this!).

“My wife is here,” Lyon smiled.

A cold breath was drawn.

“?!” The Seraphim Cultivator raised his brows before he saw a silhouette at the end of his field of view raising a sword.

“Void Art: Abyss Cleave.”

The silhouette swung the sword down.

“Huh?!” The Seraphim Cultivator was rained by dread before he snapped out just in time to jump to the side. The field exploded with a crack before revealing a long line of freshly made fissures.