NABC Chapter 816 Warlord Veil
Chapter 816 Warlord Veil
Chapter 816 Warlord Veil
Sylas exhaled a heavy breath, the strain pulling at his mind as though he was being stretched out by a gang of horses rushing in the four cardinal directions.
However, it didn't slow him.
His body flickered and vanished, appearing high above the battlefield and pressing a palm against the smooth ball. There was a pulse of Madness in his eyes, and a furious, tempestuous rage almost took tangible form.
His Demonic Will flared, and his arm flexed.
The press was slow to begin with, but then it suddenly exploded forth.
BANG!
The ball of smooth grey must have been just shy of two meters in diameter. Large, but not large enough to make one feel true despair... not until you felt the extent of its weight for yourself.
But in the hands of Sylas, it suddenly became a rubber ball.
The ball of smooth grey shot out like a rocket, its surface cracking beneath the pressure. A roar escaped Sylas' lips, and his telekinesis became akin to the flight wings of a soaring plane, the strength of his body propelling it forward.
BANG!
The ball ricocheted against the ground, bouncing up as it smothered a few lives to death, smearing their corpses across the greying ground.
Sylas vanished again, appearing high above the boulder and striking down.
The trajectory of the smooth ball changed again, this time suddenly jetting downward in a violent storm.
Sylas flickered around the battlefield again and again, using the deathly boulder as though playing a game of catch with himself. But with it, he steamrolled everything in his path.
After he formed the momentum once, he didn't seem to have the same problem using it again and again, a suffocating sort of momentum emanating from him.
There was no stopping him, no slowing him, no fighting back. When you met him, there was only death. There was only one way out of here...
A bloody mess.
Sylas flashed into the skies once more, a violet radiance exuding from him as the Scorpion Warlord Armor took shape in a blink. The steel-purple plates solidified and almost looked as though they had finally taken physical form.
Sylas' Will was akin to a mountain pressing down on them from above, a mighty tempest buffeting against them with relentless, untiring winds. They suffered millennia of erosion in what felt like brief instants of time, and they felt like their minds were just about to collapse.
One man holding up the skies.
That was what it felt like.
This mountain... was simply unattainable, a height that they couldn't scale even if they tried.
The echoes of claps suddenly resonated through the silent battlefield.
A man strolled out from within the army of blazing bronze, his hair prim and well-kept, and his armor almost seeming... designer. It was odd.
The metal was almost too flowery, the plates irregular in shape but pleasing to the eye. It looked more like modern armor built for a medieval-themed fashion week than real armor.
And yet, it only took Sylas a single glance to realize something quite profound.
Gold Grade Armor.
Sylas had only seen one Gold Grade Legendary Path Treasure until now—the spear of a certain Dogon. Of course, that was still in his possession, but he couldn't use it for obvious reasons.
This Gold Treasure, though... it was in the hands of a Human.
A Human who was radiating the aura of a Warlord.
Professor Broussard stopped walking, standing before the army of flickering bronze flames.
"This meeting has surely been a long time coming, Sylas Grimblade. I have seen a lot about you."
Sylas didn't reply. His expression remained unreadable, a deep, fathomless well slowly growing in breadth within the depths of his pupils.
"A shame." Professor Broussard shook his head. "My original intention was to at least have a chat. But if you are unwilling to talk, that much is fine as well. We can simply end these matters now and not waste any time. I've met many people like you before in my lifetime—stubborn brutes who don't understand their situation until the very last moment."
The Professor raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A ripple of Aether jetted out. —
[Veil has been dropped]
[You have been the subject of a Warlord Veil.]