Dustin’s fist surged forward, then retracted in a powerful blow, sending a spray of blood across the ground.
The scarlet-clad warrior stood frozen, disbelief etched across his face. He lowered his gaze in shock, beholding the fist that had pierced through his chest.
Aren’t the people from the Dragon Kingdom supposed to be feeble? Aren’t their warriors mere shadows of strength?
Then why, in front of me, does this man possess such formidable power?
Overwhelmed by shock, fear, and an unwillingness to yield, the crimson-clad warrior eventually crumpled to the ground, succumbing to his demise, a bitter hatred in his eyes.
Dustin’s countenance remained cold and unyielding. Without pause, he delivered a forceful kick to the head of the fallen red-clad warrior.
A resounding explosion echoed.
The warrior’s head disintegrated on the spot, akin to a smashed watermelon.
Life extinguished in an instant.
Dustin was resolute in his approach, a swift executor, never debasing the fallen. But the words of the red-clad warrior had kindled a fire within him.
A hatred for his homeland and kin, under dual assault, drove him to a point where he yearned to dismember the red-clad warrior and feed him to the hounds.
Observing this spectacle, Watanabe Tianming couldn’t help but alter his expression.
He hadn’t anticipated Dustin’s might, deeming the red-clad warrior on par with the innate masters of the Dragon Kingdom.
The swiftness with which such a being could be vanquished with a solitary punch was truly terrifying.
“Ba Ga, forward!”
With their comrades felled before them, the warriors of the Golden Crow Kingdom unsheathed their blades in unison.
Among them, the four scarlet-clad warriors were all innate masters.
Combined with over twenty individuals boasting peak internal strength, their charge was nothing short of formidable.
Watanabe Tenming bellowed, issuing the decree of death without a moment’s hesitation.
Their initial plan had been to capture him alive, but it seemed increasingly improbable.
Confronting a genuine master, one must commit fully, else risk certain failure.
Swords raised, the warriors surged forth.
Dustin stamped his foot, and the sword beside the fallen warrior sprang up, landing firmly in his grasp.
“You shall all meet your end!”
Dustin’s resolve was unyielding. With a single-handed grip on the blade, he swept forth.
A gleaming blade shot forth like a colossal scythe, cleaving through their ranks.
The black-clad warriors at the forefront were impaled by the blade’s light before they could react.
The four scarlet-clad warriors reacted swiftly, raising their swords in defense.
“Clang, Clang, Clang, Clang!”
A cacophony of metal striking metal rang out as the swords of the four crimson-clad warriors were cleaved in twain. Dustin’s blade continued its luminous arc, effortlessly piercing through their forms.
With a final resounding “bang,” a wall crumbled.
The impaled warriors stood frozen, as if transformed into stone, incapable of movement.
The ensuing moment, a torrent of blood gushed forth. The warriors were severed, their upper and lower halves now separate entities.
Finally, they crumpled to the ground, life extinguished, and bodies dismembered.
“A single stroke?!”
Watanabe Tianming stood paralyzed, aghast, his countenance a canvas of terror.
With but one strike, he had dispatched more than twenty formidable warriors.