Chapter 194: The Ultimate Duel (3)

The sword of Situ Hai had changed again, and this transformation was so immense that it nearly altered the course of the universe’s history.

The rainbow glow from that previous strike had absorbed the power of Yang Hao and his companions’ sword techniques, but that was merely the preparatory phase of the sword move. Now, the strike that Situ Hai was about to unleash was his first sword strike since his rebirth, and the first truly living, lethal strike since his swordsmanship had revived.

His sword moved—greatly and intensely.

Yang Hao could hardly believe his eyes. Situ Hai’s rusty blade had transformed into a brilliant white blade, which then split into two. Each of those split again, and within the blink of an eye, there were already tens of thousands of white, snow-like blades dancing and swirling through the air.

Everywhere was filled with swords. The entire world seemed to have fallen under Situ Hai’s control, with every inch of air and every fraction of distance occupied by his blades.

Even more terrifying was that all these blades were under Situ Hai’s command. Alone, he could control tens of thousands of sword edges, and if he wished, these blades could multiply further and spread even wider. With just himself, he could command every sword in the world.

This was the Sword Sage.

At this moment, Situ Hai himself had not yet realized it, but he had already become the new Sword Sage—the new symbol of invincibility.

Yet he remained unaware. He simply uttered the name of this sword technique with calm detachment: “The Twelfth Sword.”

A plain and unremarkable name that had already gripped everyone’s throats. Yang Hao, in particular, felt powerless to resist beneath those sword auras. He couldn’t even raise his sword again—indeed, if he did, his own sword might be seized and controlled by Situ Hai.

So, was Yang Hao destined only to die beneath this invincible blade? Was this his fate?

Yang Hao sighed, almost hearing a sigh from the depths of the universe, a sigh from the darkness itself.

Thus, he lowered his head and kissed the ring on his finger—one of the five divine rings granted by the gods, the Yunling Ring, the source of the power of the Shanzu deities.

The world froze. It paused. All vitality vanished.

Time itself froze at the moment Yang Hao kissed the ring.

Back when Yang Hao was in the Divine Realm, the Five Supreme Deities had given him five rings, each containing the most powerful divine energy of the gods.

The greatest technique of Yunshang of the Shanzu race was “Reversal”—the ability to halt or even reverse time. It was practically the most feared and envied divine ability among all the gods.

Now, as Yang Hao kissed the ring’s surface, “Reversal” was activated. Although this spell could only last for a brief second, it was still a divine technique. One second—how much could it change?

After one second, all the noise ceased. The countless flying blades vanished. The radiant brilliance, as dazzling as the sun, dimmed and disappeared. The cabin returned to its calm state.

The only change was that Yang Hao had suddenly appeared directly in front of Situ Hai, holding a transparent, invisible dagger in his hand, pressing it against Situ Hai’s throat.

In that one second, Yang Hao had flown to Situ Hai’s side and placed the invisible dagger at the great swordsman’s neck.

Everything was over.

In Situ Hai’s eyes, disbelief flickered briefly, but it vanished quickly. He didn’t even ask how Yang Hao had done it, as if it didn’t matter. What mattered was that his sword technique had been broken, and he had already been defeated in this duel.

Though he had just created the ultimate invincible sword art, and though his power had risen to the level of a Sword Sage, Situ Hai smiled, sheathed his sword, and casually returned the rusty blade to his belt, ignoring the dagger at his throat. He nodded and said, “I lost.”

Situ Hai had lost.

Luo Dongjie, Ning Ziyan, and even Maya could hardly believe they had truly heard those words. Could it really be true that the magnificent Twelfth Sword and its unimaginably powerful master had been defeated? Was this really the final outcome?

“You lost,” Yang Hao’s face showed no sign of excitement. He exhaled slowly and walked away from Situ Hai’s side. “Go. Just go.”

“You won’t kill me?” Situ Hai glanced at the slowly awakening Long Yun. “Won’t you avenge him?”

“Long Yun only wanted to duel you, to defeat you. He never intended to kill you.” Yang Hao felt an unprecedented weariness. The previous duel had drained all his strength. Even with divine power barely securing his victory, Yang Hao knew that if there was a next time, Situ Hai would not fall for it again. That swordsman had already come dangerously close to divine power—truly terrifying.

“Though you won, it was by luck,” Situ Hai showed no sign of defeat, and even offered Yang Hao advice. “If one day you can defeat me with your own strength, then you will truly be the greatest swordsman.”

“Can I become the greatest swordsman?” A tremor passed through Yang Hao’s heart.

Situ Hai nodded, then shook his head. “Remember this: though the Twelfth Sword is fearsome, it is not a killing sword. It is a sword of control. What you must truly guard against is the sword of death—those that stop at nothing. That is the most terrifying kind.”

His words were filled with meaning, as if hinting at something deeper. But Situ Hai said no more. He gave Yang Hao a respectful salute, then shot through the cabin wall like an arrow released from a bow, vanishing into the vastness of space.

The field device strapped to his belt generated a propulsion shield around him, sending him flying rapidly in one direction until he disappeared from sight.

Situ Hai’s final gesture left those present even more stunned. That salute was a long-standing tradition in the universe, reserved only for the most respected and recognized top-tier experts. In the entire universe, fewer than a hundred individuals had ever earned such an honor.

In other words, Situ Hai had acknowledged Yang Hao as one of the top hundred warriors in the universe—an honor of the highest degree.

And the key point was that Yang Hao was still so young. He was likely the youngest top hundred warrior in history.

As Yang Hao himself remained immersed in shock, Luo Dongjie and Ning Ziyan quickly sprang into action. Now that they no longer had Situ Hai as a protector, their only option was to flee.

Ning Ziyan swiftly carried the injured into space, following Situ Hai’s path in a desperate escape. Luo Dongjie, however, flew in the exact opposite direction, heading back toward his fleet.

For a fleet commander, for an imperial general, even if his forces were reduced to their last man, he would never abandon his post.

Luo Dongjie might be a scheming schemer, but he was undoubtedly a good soldier. No matter how badly he had lost, his only retreat was toward his fleet. Besides, he hadn’t lost everything yet—he still had his own ships to rely on.

“At last, it’s over,” Yang Hao exhaled heavily, feeling a great weight lift from his chest.

“Is it really over?” A voice echoed from behind him, soft and eerie.

Startled, Yang Hao turned around and saw Long Yun, who had just awakened, gripping his broadsword and clearly ready to confront him.

Yang Hao hesitated, then quickly forced a grin onto his face. “Old Long, you’re awake! Ha ha ha, so fast! You’re in great shape indeed—truly strong beyond belief.”

“Strong enough to be ambushed by you,” Long Yun’s expression was sour, showing no gratitude for Yang Hao having defeated Situ Hai on his behalf.

“Ambushed? What ambush?” Yang Hao stamped his foot, feigning deep offense. “Old Long, how can you think of me like that? How would I ever ambush you? Who do you think I am? The genius swordsman, the young flying dragon, the peerless upright man—how could I possibly ambush you? It must be a misunderstanding. Definitely a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” Long Yun gritted his teeth. “That ice blade—wasn’t it yours? Didn’t you hit me on the back of the head?”

“I did hit you,” Yang Hao was indeed a man of action. “But it wasn’t an ambush! I saw a mosquito on the back of your head—it was huge! If it had sucked your blood, it might have sucked out your brains! So I acted immediately, using the nearest cold blade to strike it down. I saved your life!”

“So now I should thank you?” Long Yun widened his eyes, unable to believe his ears.

“No thanks needed,” Yang Hao replied readily. “You and I, who are we to each other? If you ever have a headache or anything, remember to come find me. I’ll make sure you’re treated perfectly.”

Long Yun was so furious he could hardly speak, but he had no real reason to hold a grudge against Yang Hao. He knew full well that Yang Hao had taken his place in the duel with Situ Hai to save his life. He snorted, then ignored Yang Hao, lifting his gaze to look at the massive hole torn in the cabin wall.

Modern spaceships were equipped with rapid response systems. Especially when a cabin was breached, force fields would immediately block oxygen loss, and robots would quickly repair the damage.

Long Yun had originally intended to see how long the robots would take to fix the breach, but when he looked up, he saw a shocking sight.

The power source of the Sunset Fleet had vanished. All lights and outer shields were gone. The massive fleet now floated in space like a pile of cold, lifeless steel.

“What happened?” Long Yun pointed toward the distant fleet.

Everyone’s attention turned toward it, but none of them had any real experience in space combat and couldn’t figure it out. Fortunately, another person nearby had also regained consciousness—Lei, a seasoned battlefield commander.

“Energy concentration,” Lei, experienced in command, immediately identified the situation with a glance at the fleet. “The entire fleet is performing energy concentration.”

“What’s energy concentration for?” Yang Hao scratched his head. “Are they preparing to run away?”

Certainly not fleeing. A rapid jump required only the energy of a single ship. But when an entire fleet performed energy concentration, it was a large-scale tactical move used in cosmic warfare. It was usually the first phase of a tactical strike—concentrating the power of every ship in the fleet into the flagship, which would then quickly launch a powerful weapon. The advantage of energy concentration was that a flagship normally required an hour to prepare for a weapon launch, but with the fleet’s energy focused, that time could be cut in half.