Limping, he gradually regained control of his injured leg. The northerner’s Techniques were similar to a poison. An ice poison.
Olgerd wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. He charged in. This time, Hadjar was prepared for anything. The ice sabers were still popping out chaotically around him, and he also had to fight off the northerner’s attacks. His foe glided across the ice, attacking Hadjar with surprising agility and speed. Despite his massive constitution, he was a nimble and cunning fighter. Focusing on quick hit-and-run attacks, he often retreated after only a couple of swings, allowing his ice sabers to occupy Hadjar long enough for him to get some distance between them.
“Damn it!” Hadjar cursed.
Seeing a gap in the pattern of the ice sabers, he jumped, stumbling, to the side. He sheathed his sword and put his hand on its hilt.
“Strong Wind!” Putting almost a third of his energy into the Technique, Hadjar lunged forward sharply.
The energy of the New Soul stage merged with his Wielder energy. Now that Hadjar could sense the energy flows much more accurately, the appearance of this first stance had changed. If Traves had once been able to summon a torrent of cutting wind to grind a stone to dust, what Hadjar produced now was more like a tsunami.
A roaring wave of blue, steel-tinged wind swept across the icy wasteland. It crushed the ice sabers in its path. It tore up the layer of ice covering the ground, leaving deep cracks and holes behind, through which sand began to flow, freed from its ice prison.
Olgerd didn’t even flinch. He held up his shield and shouted: “Rogue Bear!”
The runes on the iron core of his shield flashed. The roar of the wind was drowned out by the roar of a bear awakened in the middle of winter. A huge brown mouth with icy eyes and fangs burst out from the northerner’s shield. It grabbed the wind, pinning it to the ground and tearing into it.
Hadjar didn’t keep the Technique going. He’d achieved his objective — cutting his way through the ice to Olgerd. Unfortunately, the path was thin and clearly visible. Hardened by a hundred battles, the northerner would easily guess where the next attack would come from. Hadjar managed to blur into the shadow of the Seven Ravens, but there was no groan or blood to accompany his attack, and only sparks fell to the sand.
Mountain Wind struck Olgerd’s shield with all its weight and force. The warrior staggered, took three steps back, and then assumed a defensive stance. Hadjar, moving so quickly that he turned into a bird’s shadow to most of the spectators, struck at all angles and from the most unexpected of directions. However, each time, instead of flesh, he hit only the shield or the saber.
“Stop playing with your food, Olgerd,” Sankesh’s voice overlapped with the noise of the battle.
“Yes, my konung,” the northerner said.
After he blocked a few more blows, he made a sudden movement with his shield. Hadjar, who’d just landed on his right leg, hadn’t had time to fully plant his feet on the ground. Besides, there was ice around them again. So he had to take the attack on his shoulder. He was flung aside like a speck of dust. After flying several feet through the air, he managed to shake it off and take control of his body. A saber that had shot out of the ice served as a perfect platform for his feet.
From the outside, it looked elegant and fascinating: a man spinning like a top in the air, standing on the tip of an ice saber. No one except Hadjar knew just how difficult it actually was. The northerner struck his shield three times with the hilt of his saber.
“Blizzard!” He plunged his weapon into the ice beneath his feet and struck it with his shield. A huge crack snaked across the icy wasteland. The ice saber Hadjar was standing turned into a mass of snowflakes. The ice cracked beneath him. Everything was drawn back to Olgerd, merging together and turning into a huge tornado. Gradually, it transformed from a funnel into a sphere. It grew with every breath until it covered the whole area they were fighting in. Hadjar, standing in the middle of the Blizzard, could barely see anything.
The warriors of Sankesh’s army, who had already seen this Technique before, expected to hear the terrible screams of the dying man, followed by seeing Olgerd towering over his foe’s body. So, they were surprised when there was no cry. Instead, they heard the clanging of metal on metal.
Olgerd got behind his opponent and launched his famous slashing attack. He had fought in hundreds of battles during the two centuries he’d lived in the north. However, Hadjar, who was only about thirty, had managed to survive thousands of them, and each of them had been to the death. His instincts had long surpassed Hadjar’s age and stage of cultivation.
Without even looking back, he placed his blade behind him, across his back, and blocked Olgerd’s strike. Turning on his heel, Hadjar launched a swift counterattack, but Mountain Wind didn’t cut Olgerd, destroying a snow sculpture instead. The northerner had disappeared once more.
Hadjar was alone in the middle of the howling wind and blizzard. Snow swirled around him, obscuring his view. All other sounds disappeared, and only the whistling of the wind and the beating of his heart remained. He could see nothing, so Hadjar closed his eyes and held the hilt of his sword in both hands.
Chapter 373
The battle dragged on. It had already lasted five minutes, which, for a fight between a cultivator and a practitioner, was something incredible. Such battles usually ended in a few seconds. What was going on now looked like a fight between two cultivators.
Most of the spectators weren’t able to see the battle through the sphere of the blizzard. Only a few warriors who were strong enough continued to observe the battle.
By closing his eyes, Hadjar hadn’t hindered his perception. He’d just gotten rid of all the distractions. His hearing, touch, and even his sense of smell had replaced his vision.
The blizzard hid what was happening around him perfectly. Hadjar was grateful to Einen for all the sparring they’d done. If not for the fact that he’d often fought a man who could disappear into the ground, Hadjar would’ve been in trouble.
His current state, similar to light meditation, allowed Hadjar to get rid of all unnecessary thoughts and react with lightning speed to changes in the environment.
Suddenly, a shooting star flashed in the darkness, somewhere to his left.
Olgerd, hiding in the snow like his totem — the snow leopard — was certain that his enemy couldn’t detect his presence. Moreover, many mid-stage Heaven Soldiers couldn’t have done so, either. No matter how talented this young man was, everyone had their limits.
The blizzard allowed Olgerd to move faster than many cultivators who followed the Way of Speed. So, he was fully confident that his next attack would succeed. Emerging from the snowy expanse, he made a quick thrust.
He was surprised when the young warrior easily sidestepped and his sword hissed like a snake through the snow, glancing off Olgerd’s shoulder. He growled more in frustration than in pain. Putting some distance between them once again, he disappeared into the snow.
Hadjar shook his head. Judging by the tactile feedback, his attack had probably struck the northerner’s clavicle, even though he’d been aiming at the man’s throat. He understood that the element of surprise had been completely lost and now Olgerd would be ten times more cautious.
Everything happened just as Hadjar had predicted. The next ten blows they exchanged followed the same pattern. The northerner attacked him with the savage intensity of a snow leopard, and Hadjar repelled his attacks, unable to counterattack.