Chapter 596: Fighting Silus

Chapter 596: Fighting Silus

Max stood in silence, Silus’s mocking words still echoing in the air like a foul stench. He stared at the man before him, weighing the situation in the pit of his mind like a blade balanced on a thread.

A part of him wanted to strike now, end this charade, end this so-called young master from the Xuan Family who thought the world was his chessboard. But another part of him—calculated, patient, cold—hesitated. Silus possessed knowledge. Knowledge about the citadel no one else did.

He had predicted the stages, escaped the maze first, and even knew which parts of the second stage held treasures before they’d stepped through the portal. Killing him now would mean losing all of that. It would mean walking blind into the unknown.

‘Should I use Ashes of Insight…’ the thought crossed his mind like a whisper in flames. A power born of the Lantern of Purple Death. An ability that promised the impossible—memory extraction after death.

If he killed Silus, there was a chance he could burn through his soul and read the secrets carved into it. But that chance came with questions. Would it show him everything Silus knew? Or only flashes? Would it consume the soul in the process, or leave it fractured?

Max hadn’t used the ability even once. He didn’t know its limits. And he couldn’t afford a gamble this dangerous in a place like the citadel.

Still… the urge to kill surged within him.

He slowly turned to face Silus, his gaze hardening into sharpened obsidian. “What?” he said, his voice low, lethal. “Are you afraid now?” A sneer curled on his lips.

Silus’s smile faltered.

The hall grew tense. The air itself seemed to hesitate, caught between heat and steel. Klaus and Nortan instinctively took a step back, sensing the killing intent that was suffocating the space.

Max’s gaze turned cold, sharp like the edge of his sword, as he locked eyes with Silus. He had made up his mind. There would be no better chance than this. Silus was alone. The two level 5 Master Rank commanders wasn’t with him.

Klaus and Nortan were here, but they wouldn’t interfere. And if they did—Max was ready to cut them down too.

Max’s aura exploded. His sword concept howled into existence, carving thin rifts in the space around him, as if the world itself was flinching.

Silus’s expression stiffened.

“You think I’m afraid?” Silus scoffed, forcing a grin, but Max could see the flicker in his eyes. That brief flash of panic. He had underestimated Max.

“I’m done playing your little treasure boy,” Max said, voice calm, deadly—like a quiet storm moments before it tore the heavens apart.

And in the blink of an eye, Max vanished from where he stood.

He reappeared right in front of Silus, his sword already mid-swing. The atmosphere cracked from the sudden burst of momentum, the air itself hissing under the pressure of the strike.

“To think you dare attack me?!” Silus shouted in disbelief, his body flinching back. But he reacted fast. With a swift motion, he summoned a long obsidian spear into his hands, thrusting it forward with a snarl.

Bang!

The two weapons collided with a deafening crash, the force rippling outward like a thunderclap. Sharp sword winds erupted outward, while the spear’s piercing aura tore through the stone floor beneath them, sending shards flying. Mirrors lining the walls trembled violently; some even cracked under the pressure of the clash.

“Hahaha! Only basic stage sword concept?” Silus mocked, eyes burning with disdain. “You really are just a trash insect from the Lower Domain.”

As if to prove his point, the aura around his spear surged, becoming more refined, sharper—denser. The tip of his weapon radiated a golden-white hue, and in moments, the difference was undeniable. His spear concept had ascended to a higher level than Max’s sword concept.

“Trash! Die!” he roared, stepping forward with a sneer twisted across his face. His spear blurred, stabbing out at Max in a rapid succession—each thrust a streak of light, whistling with deadly force.

Max’s frown deepened slightly. His sword concept was indeed being suppressed—but so what? Strength wasn’t always about who had the higher realm of mastery.

His Three Dimensional Body saw through all of Silus’ spear. Each time Silus’s spear came for his throat, heart, or side, Max’s blade met it with perfect timing—redirecting, deflecting, or outright stopping the attack. Sparks flew from every clash, wind raged out in waves every time Max’s sword met the spearhead.

The hall echoed with the metallic rhythm of their dance. Bang. Clang. Whoosh.

Even though Silus had the upper hand in concept, Max was keeping up with sheer experience, battle sense, and raw, unrelenting combat will.

Silus’s grin began to fade as realization crept in. This wasn’t going to be the easy kill he had imagined.

Not even close. But he still had confidence after noticing something.

“You really didn’t use a treasure. This is your true strength,” Silus muttered in shock, his tone laced with disbelief. His brows twitched, and for a moment, his grip on the spear loosened ever so slightly.

But then, something darker flickered in his eyes—pride, cruelty, and an almost twisted relief. His lips curled into a sneer. “But that makes it even better. I was worried—just for a second—that you had used some kind of artifact to raise your strength temporarily, that you might surpass me. But it seems I overestimated you.”

That faint concern vanished, replaced by ruthless aggression. Silus’ aura erupted like a geyser, sending invisible waves of pressure throughout the hall as he took a step forward, eyes glowing with malicious excitement.

“Spear God Arts—First Spear!”

His spear lit up, engulfed in a blazing golden light. The energy around it twisted into a cone, as if the air itself bowed to the weapon. With a roar, Silus lunged forward, thrusting the spear straight at Max with pinpoint intent to skewer him.

Sensing the terrifying danger radiating from that attack, Max didn’t hesitate. His stance shifted sharply, both hands tightening around the hilt of his blade.

“Point Break!” he called out, activating the second move of his Voidborne Edge technique.

His sword shimmered as space rippled around the blade, and he met Silus’s incoming spear with a devastating thrust of his own.

Bang!

The collision was earth-shaking. Max’s sword vibrated violently, and the force sent him sliding backward across the polished stone floor of the hall, his boots digging grooves into the ground before he came to a stop. Dust rose in his wake.

“Hahahaha! You’re no match for me!” Silus howled, drunk on his power. “If you admit defeat now, I—”

He never finished the sentence.

In that very instant, Max vanished again, blinking through space like a specter.

A pulse of instinct screamed in Silus’s skull. His eyes widened. Too late.

From behind—Max appeared.

“Severing Flow Sword Art!”

The slash came down like a bolt of divine judgment, his sword a blur of steel and energy. It landed cleanly on Silus’s back, an eruption of force blasting the arrogant young master forward like a broken doll.

BOOM!

Silus crashed into the far wall of the hall with thunderous impact, stones cracking, dust exploding outward. He groaned, his body sprawled against the rubble.

Max didn’t relax.

‘That felt like hitting a wall instead of flesh,’ he thought grimly, brow furrowed. His sword arm was still tingling from the rebound. Even though the attack had connected, something felt… off.

There was no blood, no deep wound. Just resistance. Dense, immovable, almost artificial.

Max’s eyes narrowed, his instincts on high alert. “What the hell… was that defense?” he muttered under his breath.

Something wasn’t right with Silus. Something far beyond just strength.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!