Chapter 151: The Knees of This Sword…………

The battle-axe roared through the air.

Jean could feel the powerful gust rushing toward his face. The bloody battle-axe seemed like a ferocious beast with its jaws wide open, lunging down to devour him. Yet, he did not make a single move. A mere emissary of the gods—and a lower-tier divine emissary at that, barely at the peak of the Master tier—was still far too weak to challenge him.

At this thought, the corners of Jean's lips curved into a cold sneer.

Then, the longsword in his hand thrust forward once more.

Just a single sword strike.

The azure light carried an ethereal, illusory afterimage as it surged forward, crashing heavily against the surface of the battle-axe like an incoming wave. Sword and axe collided. The next moment, the massive battle-axe, which already looked somewhat battered and incomplete, developed prominent cracks. Under the immense impact of pressure, these fractures gradually expanded and widened, causing the entire axe head to disintegrate. The sharp blade twisted as if it were a book being forcefully rolled up by someone. The next second, the overburdened battle-axe completely collapsed, and the overwhelming force, having broken through the final defense, surged outward and struck the body of the Fallen Divine Emissary.

"Boom!!!"

The massive body of the Fallen Divine Emissary was sent flying backward, crashing heavily into the ground. Jean withdrew his longsword and glanced at Doby and Dally standing not far behind him—the two fellows currently had their mouths wide open, wide enough to swallow a duck egg.

Mortals, indeed...

Seeing their expressions, Jean shook his head. Divine emissaries were only truly intimidating on the surface world. Of course, strictly speaking, the messengers of the gods possessed immense power. But one had to consider against whom. To some extent, divine emissaries were very similar to the faction organizations of the Underdark—their average strength was formidable, and their standout figures were exceptionally elite. However, unlike the surface, they lacked lower-tier entities. Even an angel possessed high-tier strength upon birth. It was precisely because of this that the inhabitants of the surface held such abnormal awe toward divine emissaries, aside from what they inherently represented. The abysmal strength of surface mortals was also one of the reasons. Under such circumstances, it was hardly surprising that Dally looked upon a divine emissary as a mouse seeing a cat. Yet to an underground dweller, a mere divine emissary at the peak of the Master tier was nothing to make a fuss about.

In fact, long ago, the dark elves had even captured a Seraph during a surprise raid on the surface and brought it back to the Underdark to serve as a plaything for the Matron Mothers. An angel had thus degenerated into a mere fetish toy for the dark elves, ultimately being killed and sacrificed to the Spider Queen. Such a feat was something even the most fanatical cultists on the surface would never dare to dream of. Yet in the Underdark, it was merely a relatively celebratory victory.

"Hah!!!"

Right at that moment, Patrina also launched her attack.

The little one swept across the battlefield like a streak of lightning, instantly stirring up a storm of blood and gore wherever she passed. The frenzied monsters had no time to display their cruelty and might before they were pierced by the massive, silver knightly spear. Then, Patrina swept sideways, sending several monsters flying in the blink of an eye. Following that, a flash of fire erupted from the tip of Patrina's spear, and with a series of brilliant, explosive bursts, those monsters were instantly pulverized into dust. Only scattered fragments mixed with blood fell from the sky, exuding a sickening, putrid stench.

The magitech knights followed closely behind. Unchanged from before, they divided into three rows, forming a sturdy barrier that blocked the monsters' advance. The knights in the very front wielded dual swords, tearing every monster that dared to attack them into shreds like a meat grinder. Meanwhile, the knights immediately behind them raised their sword-staffs, swirling runes continuously spinning and extending outward to form a solid defense. The young maidens in the rear rank chanted ancient and mysterious incantations. Under the influence of magical power, the once-hard stony ground began to turn muddy and treacherous, and thorny briars sprouted from the earth like longwhips, tearing and wrapping around the bodies of the frenzied monsters to halt their further advance.

Even the noble private soldiers had now gathered in a cluster, brandishing blades and engaging in a chaotic melee with the monsters. Dally and Doby regained their composure after the brief moment of chaos. They had to admit that Jean slicing a divine emissary away with a single sword strike had undoubtedly boosted their morale immensely. Although the Legendary tier was indeed as lofty as the clouds, without a clear point of comparison, it was difficult to truly comprehend the sheer power represented by those four words: "Legendary powerhouse."

But now, they finally understood just how formidable a Legendary powerhouse could be. Being able to send a divine emissary flying with one sword strike was, in the eyes of Dally and Doby, practically the stuff of myth.

Naturally, Jean's sword strike brought about a surge in morale. The noble private soldiers, who had previously been trembling with fear before the frenzied monsters, saw this "magnificent feat" and their morale instantly skyrocketed. Coupled with Doby's commands and Dally occasionally casting auxiliary spells from the rear, they actually managed to fight the monsters to a standstill.

Jean, however, did not pay attention to the battlefield situation. At this moment, he held his longsword horizontally and looked forward once more, only to see that the divine emissary he had blown away with a single blow had already climbed back up. It seemed to have sensed that the human before it was not to be trifled with, and thus immediately abandoned its battered battle-axe.Dropping onto all fours like a dog, it bared its teeth and hissed at Jean. Its two massive heads shook incessantly, spewing green toxic gas. Then, with a long howl, the divine emissary lunged at Jean on all fours like a ferocious hunting dog. Its dual heads swayed violently, and it suddenly snapped its jaws open. The next instant, scorching, flame-like breath erupted from the emissary's mouth, surging outward to engulf Jean.

The flames were all-encompassing; even the white frost and ice crystals that previously blanketed the earth rapidly melted and vanished without a trace beneath these flames. Yet to Jean, such trivial flames meant nothing at all. He let out a cold snort, swept his longsword downward, and suddenly leaped into the air, tracing a crescent-moon trajectory as he flew directly toward the flames. The next moment, the enveloping sheet of flames was forcefully cleaved apart. The seemingly frail sword qi acted like a black hole, completely absorbing those flames. In the blink of an eye, the bisected torrent of fire vanished. The next instant, Jean's figure flickered, appearing at the feet of the divine emissary with lightning speed. The azure light once more swept through the void, kicking up a series of afterimages that turned into specks of starlight. Mixed with a sharp, howling wind, the sword struck heavily against the emissary's knee.

I used to be a divine emissary, until I took a sword to the knee...

If the divine emissary could speak, it might have uttered this most famous proverb with a hint of worldly sorrow. Yet even without speaking, reality had already proven the correctness of the adage—not to mention that it had taken far more than just one sword strike.

Under the impact of the violent sword qi, the divine emissary's knee shattered as if blasted apart, and foul, turbid blood sprayed in all directions. But Jean had already dodged the filth of the blood like a ghost. With a graceful flip, he vaulted onto the divine emissary's back, and the longsword in his hand stabbed downward fiercely once more.

Still, the Fallen Divine Emissary was a divine emissary after all. Although one of its legs had been severed by Jean, it did not lower its guard. On the contrary, the moment Jean leaped up, the emissary's other head abruptly twisted in a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn that no mortal could possibly manage, fixing its gaze on Jean and opening its maw once again. Soon, green toxic gas spewed from its second mouth, swirling as it swept toward Jean.

"Hmph, hardly impressive."

If he were merely tasting the waters, dealing with such toxic gas would require nothing more than a single spell for Jean. However, Jean had already resolved not to use magic. His current persona was that of a knight, and naturally, he had to win through swordsmanship. As for magic, he would reserve its use for when he shed this guise and reclaimed his identity as the Dungeon Master. In truth, Jean had his reasons for doing this. His magic originated from the Dungeon System; it was very straightforward, yet limited in variety. Though it could produce changes, its essence remained identical, restricted solely to thunder and flames. If Jean were to cast magic here, his true identity as the Dungeon Master would be too easily exposed when he revealed himself later. Therefore, Jean had decided to act strictly as a knight while on the surface. Furthermore, judging by his current strength, even viewed purely through the lens of swordsmanship, very few people could defeat him.

Not even a divine emissary.

The dark green toxic gas enveloped Jean's figure, but in that very moment, he had already vanished.

Sword light flickered.

Almost in the blink of an eye, a dazzling radiance appeared out of thin air beside the emissary's neck. The sweeping arc of the silver blade enveloped the emissary's massive body, and even the wind began to dance anew in that instant. The dense, dark green toxic gas was directly blown into nothingness by the raging gale.

For a mere fraction of a second, Jean's figure reappeared. He stood quietly, his back turned to the divine emissary. The azure light in his hand remained indistinct, the sword glow that had enveloped it gradually receding and vanishing into the depths of the blade. At that exact moment, the divine emissary froze completely, its body stiffening as if time had stopped, before it turned its head to look behind it. Right then, the longsword in Jean's hand turned with a flawless arc and slid smoothly back into its scabbard.

"Clack."

Immediately following, a smooth, flawless cut suddenly appeared across the emissary's neck, then gradually widened. As if in resonance, one wound after another tore through the skin, spreading across the emissary's entire body.

The next instant, that massive physique completely disintegrated, collapsing heavily onto the ground without another twitch. (To be continued.)