Kafem moved faster than any Nameless Hadjar had fought before. His movements were sharp and precise. He didn’t take a single unnecessary step. He didn’t use a single ounce of unnecessary energy. He was like a deadly weapon that used only what it needed to complete its task, no more and no less.

He slid over the grass at such an incredible speed that if not for his immense control over his power and energy, he would’ve created whirlwinds of destruction with his movement alone, toppling trees and splitting rocks. Kafem completely controlled himself, so much so that even the grass under his feet didn’t sway.

His sheathed sword strike contained a power that defied what a cultivator of the seven Empires could comprehend with their mind alone. His speed, skill, and accuracy exceeded all reason.

His seemingly simplistic downward swing contained deep mysteries, energy, and will, which were so closely intertwined that it was difficult to distinguish them from each other. Like all cultivators who’d started their journey to what lay beyond the edges of a True Kingdom, Kafem didn’t use his power wastefully on the surrounding area, but completely concentrated it inside his own sword. No Nameless from the regions that Hadjar had fought in before was capable of this. Not even every Heaven Emperor... It was precisely this difference in how well a cultivator used their own potential that was the main measure of their level of cultivation, and not all of those supposed levels of progress.

“Not bad, boy!” Kafem laughed as his scabbard struck the flat of the Blue Blade.

Waves of blue wind scattered around Hadjar. He still couldn’t control his power very well. He had too little experience with being a Nameless. Over the past few months, his neural network had managed to complete only ten thousand fights, which simply couldn’t compete with the experience of a cultivator who had lived for ten thousand years.

Even so, Hadjar still looked completely different from someone who’d gained their power so recently. Rather, he was more like a Nameless level cultivator who had been fighting for several centuries. That was his true trump card in this ruthless world, allowing him to immerse himself in endless battles inside his mind, which would be accompanied by relentless pain and death every second he used it.

Kafem was strong. And fast. But… he was still a human being and couldn’t be compared to the Dragon Emperor, may the Great Ancestor be kind to him.

After firmly blocking the man’s strike, Hadjar then instantly crouched down and kicked out at Kafem’s legs. This kick would’ve been able to cut off the peak of a mountain in the mortal region, but in a battle of the Nameless, it was only enough to force Kafem to move away from him.

Rolling to the side, Hadjar jumped up and spun his sword until he launched himself and the tip of his blade into a frenzied lunge. The space-splitting wind struck several mercenaries, leaving deep cuts on their Imperial level armor. Maybe simple Lords and Nameless would be surprised and amazed by such great power, but Kafem just kept laughing. He parried Hadjar’s attack with his scabbard as if it wasn’t a deadly strike, but an annoying fly.

“You’re fighting like a country bumpkin, boy!” Kafem stepped forward and stabbed his opponent in the chest with his scabbard.

At the point of impact, Hadjar’s clothes flashed blue. Their only magical property — the ability to absorb part of an attack’s force — had worked. If not for that, the blow would’ve broken his bones, hurt his internal organs and, what was much more terrifying, his energy body as well.

Hadjar flew back a couple of yards and landed lightly on his feet. Spitting out blood, he forced his own bones to heal with his willpower and energy. The horrific black bruise on his chest disappeared in an instant.

“You’re sloppy,” Kafem spat. “Look at what a mess you’ve turned the clearing into after just a few of your movements!”

There were many long cuts on the ground around the combatants. The cut grass exuded a slightly sweet smell. White stripes had even appeared on the weeping stone.

“Control your power, boy, otherwise this won’t be interesting at all!”

He approached, and once he got within four feet of him, Kafem swung his sword. Hadjar sensed a momentary flash of energy, will, mysteries, and the Magic of Words. A red lightning bolt passed through Kafem’s body, penetrated his scabbard, then broke off from it, turning into a sparking copy of his blade.

This Technique that carried a Divine level power almost looked like a Spirit level one. The lightning sword was only about six feet long, but despite its apparent lack of might, it was incredibly saturated with energy and will. The lightning sword was actually one of the most powerful Techniques that Hadjar had ever seen.

“You talk a lot,” Hadjar said.

He swung his sword. A dragon’s roar cut through the sky as the scarlet lightning sword soundlessly came toward Hadjar. A blue wind swirled around him with streams of the Sword’s mysteries and the True Word he possessed. The dragon generated by these whirlwinds opened its wing and covered Hadjar with it. The scarlet lightning blade struck it, but there were no explosions of energies that would grind the heavens like millstones. There was no echo of the will and mysteries rolling toward the horizon. Nothing like that happened. On the surface, it almost seemed like this wasn’t two cultivators fighting at all, but merely strong practitioners using Spirit level Techniques.

However, if a practitioner had been nearby, or even a proper Spirit Knight, they would’ve been unable to sense anything about this battle. That was how far both Hadjar and Kafem had traveled along the path of cultivation.

“That’s better.”

Hadjar turned around just as a heavy scabbard crashed into his side. He was bent at an unnatural angle and hurled over twenty feet away.

After rolling across the ground, Hadjar finally got to his feet with a great deal of effort. This time, his bones healed a little slower, as Kafem had managed to damage part of his energy channels. They were already fusing back together at an incredible speed, but it still wasn’t fast enough.

“I’ll admit, my misguided brother,” Kafem bent down and picked up the bottle of medicine, “You fight better than most of the Sect. Maybe... on par with the second circle. But you are still far from the first circle and even more so from the Master’s own confidants. I don’t know why you’re so desperately trying to find our headquarters, but with such measly power, there is nothing for you there but death.”

Hadjar got up and, holding his sword with both hands, assumed a low stance.

“Sorry,” Kafem spread his arms out. “I’ve already gotten what I came for. See you later.”

By the time the ‘Dragon Dawn’ surged through the air, completely cutting down several trees and even bisecting a couple of boulders, the sectarian and his mercenaries were no longer there. A black veil had enveloped them, and when it had disappeared, they’d disappeared along with it.

“Damn it,” Hadjar swore. He sat down on the grass next to Abraham, who was quietly chewing on a blade of grass. “Well, everything seems to have worked out.”

The old rogue stood up and threw off the ropes binding him with a slight twist of his wrists.

“I didn’t think they would fall for it so easily.”

While the other squad members were also casually throwing off their bonds, Abraham approached Guy and helped him to his feet.

“You-”

“The bottle, my friend.” Abraham patted Guy on the shoulder and smiled. “It’ll lead us to where that blond idiot is going.”

Hadjar hated schemes, but he was still good at coming up with them.