School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 86 --Finn’s Dead End

"Flattery, mere flattery," Owen responded, his fists swinging with vigorous force, his arcanergy continuously pouring out without cease.

Quincy felt a throbbing pain in his head, overwhelmed by frustration.

Owen’s talent made him envious.

At the start, Owen needed to use five strands of arcanergy to counter Quincy’s three.

Now, Owen only needed four and a half strands to match Quincy’s three.

This indicated that Owen’s control over arcanergy had unknowingly skyrocketed.

Quincy even suspected that if this continued, Owen’s mastery of arcanergy would gradually surpass his own.

Owen, his face smeared with blood, fought with unceasing fervor.

Grinding his teeth, Quincy cursed internally: "What a beast."

Owen’s physical resilience was extraordinary, far surpassing that of ordinary beings.

The physical attributes of dragons, honed over hundreds of thousands of years, were astonishingly formidable.

Even if Owen’s bones were broken, he could still throw punches as if nothing had happened.

Indefatigable, with exceptional physical strength, advanced combat techniques, and remarkable talent...

Dragons truly lived up to their reputation as war machines.

Their superiority as a race was undeniably impressive.

Quincy could use forbidden techniques, but he dared not.

Although he had suppressed his strength to the master-tier and returned to his peak within that tier using forbidden techniques, his grandmaster-tier sensing abilities remained intact.

He sensed a potent will of heritage within Owen’s blood.

Quincy was certain that if he used forbidden techniques to kill Owen, the dragons would be instantly alerted.

In no time, the skies above Gosa Waters would be shrouded with dragons.

Then, the very seas of Gosa Waters would risk evaporation under the dragons’ wrath, countless sea races perishing as a consequence of avenging Owen.

They could tolerate Owen’s death, but not at the hands of another race’s powerhouse, as it would signify a provocation against the dragons.

Quincy was not insane. The cost of such an action was something he could not afford.

His eyes flickering, Quincy pondered how to orchestrate Owen’s demise through an accident rather than by the hands of a sea race.

For Owen, engrossed in the battle, Quincy was the best Mr. Owen he could ask for, instructing him hands-on how to use arcanergy, how to maneuver it precisely, and which pathways yielded the highest efficiency.

This accelerated the growth of Owen’s strength, harmonizing the arcanergy within his body even more.

The power of the Sun blessing rapidly transformed Owen’s physique.

"Too monstrous," Quincy muttered.

Spreading his arms like a large bird, Quincy began to retreat backwards, intent on fleeing. Continuing the fight with Owen would only contribute to Owen’s growth.

Owen paused, then quickly pursued: "Trying to run? I’m not done having fun yet."

He reached out towards Quincy, but a slick substance appeared on Quincy’s hands, causing Owen’s grip to slip.

In an instant, Quincy was a hundred meters away.

"Saint of dragons, I’ve experienced your strength. There’s no need to continue this battle. Save your energy for the struggle over the Heart of the Ocean," Quincy’s voice echoed from afar, leaving behind only his dashing figure.

Owen halted, the arcanergy that had flared around him like flames gradually subsiding.

He rubbed his fingers together, analyzing the composition of the slippery substance.

Erin approached, her voice tinged with urgency: "Master, are you alright?"

Owen shook his head: "Do I look like I’m in trouble?"

His wounds had already scabbed over.

With a slight shake of his head, the dried blood fell away like an eggshell peeling off, revealing his unblemished, snow-white skin.

He presented his fingertip to Erin: "Which race possesses this type of mucus?"

Erin touched it, pondering for a moment before responding: "It seems like it’s from an eel."

"An eel?" Owen generated arcanergy in his hand, cleaning off the remaining mucus, "It does resemble it, but there’s another race that also has this kind of mucus."

"What is it?"

"Sea serpent."

"Sea serpent?" Erin exclaimed in surprise.

Owen nodded slightly: "A prodigy of the sea serpent race. Haven’t heard Bessie mention this, have we?" 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Bessie, as the saintess of the sea serpent race, should be well-informed about the affairs of her race.

Yet, outside Heartstealer Island, Bessie showed no recognition of Quincy, which was out of the ordinary.

"Maybe he’s a wandering prodigy," Erin mused, tilting her head in thought, "Like Elder Barlo. I’ve heard from the elders in our clan that Barlo often travels for learning and doesn’t return home for centuries."

"Let’s hope so." Owen ceased his speculation, "I always feel that Quincy has some secret weapons he hasn’t used yet."

"He still couldn’t defeat Master and fled in defeat. Master is the strongest." Erin’s smile was radiant, her voice clear and bright.

Owen gently patted Erin’s head, his lips curling into a smile.

Erin was like that, wholeheartedly devoted to her master.

Together, they continued their journey towards the only mountain peak on Heartstealer Island.

...

"I am the second prince of the Laine Kingdom, dare you lay a hand on me? Believe it or not, I can have my father send troops to annihilate your lairs," Finn declared, retreating continuously as three distinct sea race beings gradually closed in on him.

"Hmph, I can assure you that by the time your message gets out, your head will have already hit the ground," sneered a seahorse race individual, his human torso ending in a seahorse tail, grinning broadly.

"Indeed, the human race has long dominated our Gosa Waters, and now you dare strut around our core territory, utterly oblivious of your place," a shark race warrior, with the body of a shark and the legs of a man, chimed in, his eyes filled with malice.

"He must be killed," stated a seaturtle race member bluntly, his voice muffled by the turtle shell he bore on his back, his statement crisp and to the point.

Finn’s face was covered in cold sweat, his eyes darting around in search of an escape route.

He realized, however, that he was already locked in their sights, and any attempt to flee would invite a thunderous assault, leaving him no chance to even fight back.

"Damn it, I’ll fight you all to the end," Finn swore, drawing his sword, channeling arcanergy into the blade continuously.

How could the sword of the second prince of the Laine Kingdom be an ordinary object?

The sword gleamed with a bright light, its legendary edge revealing its ferocity in that instant.

The faces of the three sea race members grew solemn, their eyes betraying an unmasked greed.

In the world of martial arts, while strength is essential, weaponry is an equally indispensable aspect.

It was only with his legendary-tier blade that Finn could barely fend off the combined assault of three master-tier opponents, buying himself time.

Now, like a cornered rabbit, Finn, in collaboration with his legendary-tier sword, could deliver a strike powerful enough to seriously injure a master.

The three sea race members froze, none of them willing to be the first to strike.

After all, the first to act might end up dead, and none of them were fools.

Finn, noticing the suspicion and hesitation in the eyes of the three sea race members, couldn’t help but burst into mocking laughter:

"I thought you were formidable. Turns out you’re just cowards, scared of death. Who among you dares to taste the power of my blade first?"

The expressions of the sea race trio shifted slightly. The seaturtle race representative stepped forward with a cold snort: "I’ll take the first hit, you two capture him. I’ll crush his bones to make him understand true pain."

As he spoke, arcanergy surged around the three sea race members.

Finn, gritting his teeth, roared: "Even if I die, I’ll take you with me."

As his words fell, he unleashed his fully charged sword with all his might.

A sword light, resembling a force that could split heaven and earth, surged towards them.

The master of the seaturtle race leaped forward, his turtle shell suddenly enlarging, enveloping all three sea race members.

The sword light struck the turtle shell, leaving a deep gash as if an axe had struck a tree trunk.

The master of the seaturtle race turned pale, coughing up a mouthful of blood, his energy severely depleted.

"Damn, he withstood it. It hurts so much—quick, take him down."

The masters of the shark race and the seahorse race, delighted, reached out to grab Finn.

The light in Finn’s eyes faded, his heart filled with despair. Slowly, he closed his eyes.

’If I had learned more from Mr. Owen, would today’s outcome be different? I won’t be lazy in the future... if there is a future.’

A strange gust of wind blew, and the anticipated fatal blow didn’t land on him.

Instead, he heard a series of thunderous booms.

He suddenly opened his eyes.

The masters of the seahorse and shark races were impaled together on a trident, which was firmly embedded in the ground, unmovable.

The master of the seaturtle race stood frozen, his mouth agape, trembling without moving.

Finn looked around in surprise and recognition.

He recognized the trident.

"Seastar Trident, Mr. Owen has arrived."

His gaze shifted to the distance. Finn saw Owen and Erin approaching from afar, the light shining on Owen as if a deity had descended.

Having narrowly escaped death, Finn’s emotions surged like a rollercoaster, tears streaming down his face in an instant.

Owen approached swiftly, his steps so light that he seemed to glide across the ground, reaching Finn in mere moments.

Finn dropped to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably: "Mr. Owen, you’ve finally come. I was so close to death just now."

Owen used his arcanergy to help him up: "Only realizing the inadequacy of your arcanergy at the brink of crisis? What have you been doing all this time?"

Wiping his eyes, Finn responded: "You’re right in your reprimand, Mr. Owen. I will study diligently and put in more effort from now on."

Owen walked over to the trident that impaled the two masters, thinking to himself: "Indeed, infusing thunder into an arcanergy artifact grants it the speed of lightning. Quincy’s technique is truly admirable; I’ve learned something new."

He casually pulled out the trident; the masters of the seahorse and shark races were barely clinging to life, most of their vitality already extinguished.