Amber Sword-Chapter 626: Scene 62 King of the Underground (13) (1st update) (Seeking support, hoping for attention.)
Brand, after a brief moment of distraction, realized that the other party was also a veteran who had experienced the November War, so it wasn’t surprising that he knew his grandfather. However, Kulan came from a knight family, whereas his grandfather Tobus was merely a civilian. How did they know each other? 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎
He temporarily suppressed his doubt as the battle had already begun. The Hellhound seemed extremely displeased with its prey disappearing right in front of it. As soon as Kulan stepped onto the sand of the Duel Arena, the beast howled and broke free from its chains.
The iron chains, as thick as arms, snapped one by one with a loud ’bang bang’. "Good fellow!" Kulan thought to himself, drawing his longsword with his right hand and tossing the scabbard aside. The beast from beneath the River of Sulfur, dragging numerous broken chains, lunged straight at him.
But the old man furrowed his brows, raised his eyelids slightly, and already in those dark grey pupils was the sight of the demon descending upon him. He shifted his right foot back a step and raised his sword with both hands, shouting:
"Get out!"
A clear shockwave suddenly erupted from Kulan’s body towards all directions. The Hellhound in mid-air was swept away instantly—the violent airflow was as fast as the Wind Bullet. Like numerous sharp knives, it pushed outward for about a hundred meters before gradually weakening and disappearing.
But before that, the Hellhound had already crashed into the wall on the other side of the Duel Arena. With a loud bang, countless bricks and stones collapsed immediately.
Dust filled the air—
"Damn—!" Brand couldn’t help but exclaim in his heart as he witnessed the scene. This was the sword qi burst of a swordsman, a technique in swordsmanship—but to push the wind pressure a hundred meters away, he wondered just how much enhancement this core swordsmanship must have.
In Amber Sword, every skill was divided into basic and technique. The technique was based on basic skills or physical attributes, like how White Crow Swordsmanship and Frontal Breakthrough relied on Brand’s Military Swordsmanship in actual combat, while Power Burst and Charge depended on strength, constitution, and dexterity attributes.
The higher the core skill level, the stronger the physical attributes, the more powerful the technique-based skills would become. But at this stage, to push the sword qi burst a hundred meters away.
Brand had never heard of such a thing.
He remembered that in the past game, he reached this level around ninety. But Kulan was only of Middle Gold strength, at best level forty-five.
At this moment, the Hellhound also got up from the rubble, shaking its three large heads, with sand and stones falling from its body and head, looking quite battered.
But in reality, the demon from the River of Sulfur wasn’t seriously injured, especially the last crash didn’t hurt it as much as hitting the wind wall—the resistance in the air was significantly less than if it had been on the ground.
It had just gotten up when Kulan was already in front of it—he didn’t charge but continuously bounced on the sandy ground, fast as lightning, covering twenty or thirty meters in one leap—the Hellhound had just lifted its snarling heads when its large, wheel-like eyes reflected the approaching sword.
There was no room to dodge, not even time for fear.
’Bang’ a loud noise, everyone saw the old man holding his sword with both hands, leap high and brought it down onto the demon’s central head from beneath the River of Sulfur—the sword blade sank in up to the hilt, and then continued downward, splitting the large head in half.
When Kulan landed, he swung the sword to the side, the black blood drawing an arc on the sandy ground. But he immediately stepped back to avoid being soaked by the foul-smelling black blood.
The Hellhound collapsed on the ground, unable to support itself, its limbs splaying out. But the fierce beast hadn’t given up resisting; as Kulan retreated, its remaining two heads each spewed a column of fire forward.
The old man was already wary of this move, but he hadn’t expected the columns of fire to have such a long range. They shot across half the arena like flame throwers—although he hurriedly rolled to the side, his clothes, eyebrows, and beard were all singed.
The unexpected incident made him tremble with fury. His meticulously grown beard was his treasure. In rage, Kulan yelled and directly charged at the Hellhound, punching its left head’s jaw—everyone heard a crisp fracture, but that was nothing; the immense force lifted the beast, almost a floor high, directly from the sand.
