Reincarnation Of The Legendary Sword Saint

Then the light faded.

Rowan’s eyes remained calm.

He stretched his hand forward, controlling his blue flame dragon and forcing it to surge ahead.

Hai mirrored him.

His black demonic dragon shot forward, pressing against the blue flames.

Two forces.

Two monsters.

Two storms shaped like dragons.

They crashed into each other in the sky.

They both pushed, fully conscious, every strike and every movement deliberate.

The air vibrated with the density of their auras.

Gravity seemed to thicken. The sheer pressure of their energy made it nearly impossible for anyone nearby to stand.

Slowly, the density eased just enough for people to rise to their feet, still trembling under the oppressive force.

"W-what is happening?" someone whispered, voice shaking.

"Could it be Mikey?" another asked, wide-eyed.

"No, it is not him," a third murmured. "Whatever this is, it is beyond human."

"Sword God, Teacher Voli," a student said, voice low. "We have never seen anything like this before."

All eyes turned skyward.

Above, the two constructs—the blue flame dragon and the black demonic dragon—collided, surged, and smashed against each other. Energy and aura rippled across the sky as if the world itself was bending under their force.

Rowan pressed forward. His blue flame dragon coiled with raw, unrelenting power. Hai countered, opening the black dragon-shaped construct’s jaws wide, trying to swallow the blue flames.

Neither form was a real dragon. Not alive. Not flesh. Not scales.

They were pure energy, shaped like dragons, moving like dragons, but fully controlled by their masters’ will.

The air split with thunderous force. Sparks, fire, and shadow collided violently.

From below, observers froze.

"This cannot be," someone whispered. "No human or any mortal being could create such power."

A few stepped back, fear gripping them.

"If he has grown this strong in just five or ten years, he could actually defeat our current Demon Lord," Hai muttered, voice tight.

Hai’s eyes widened. Panic flared. "I need to get away from here."

Rowan did not hesitate.

He smiled, cold, calculated, and ruthless.

He raised his hand. The blue flame dragon surged higher, wings flaring, burning the treetops as it moved. Streams of blue fire lashed outward, leaving trails of smoke in its wake.

Hai screamed. He closed his eyes, but the attack did not stop.

The blue flame dragon’s claws shot forward like lightning.

Impact.

Hai’s body convulsed under the searing heat. His skin scorched. His power faltered.

Then he fell.

From high above, straight down.

BOOM!

The ground shook violently beneath him. Dust and debris exploded in all directions.

Rowan’s construct hovered above, wings flaring, energy radiating like a storm of living fire.

Rowan did not flinch. Calm. Collected. Dominant.

Hai lay on the ground, burned, humiliated, and stunned.

Hai roared, dragging himself forward.

His body was shattered. Bones broken, one arm completely burned away.

Half of his face was scorched, armor fused to his skin.

"What, you bastard! You bastard! Tell me, what the hell are you?!" he spat, voice trembling with fury and pain.

Rowan didn’t flinch.

"Well, I’m just here," Rowan said calmly. "With the man."

Hai’s eyes widened.

"Impossible, impossible!" he growled, staggering on one leg.

Rowan’s gaze sharpened.

"I can see why you’re angry," he said quietly. "It’s not because you lost. You’re not ashamed of that. What makes you angrier is that you didn’t push me to my limits. You didn’t struggle. You didn’t force me to struggle either."

Hai gritted his teeth.

He tried to push off the ground with his remaining arm, supporting himself on one leg.

"I won’t forgive you!" he spat, summoning dark energy in his hand.

Rowan raised his blade.

"Time Cutting Blade," he whispered.

He slashed the air.

Time slowed to a near stop.

The world froze around Hai.

VROOOM!

The air screamed as Rowan’s blade tore through it.

Hai’s body was sliced.

Fifty thousand pieces.

Fragments scattered in an instant, flying across the battlefield.

Dark blood sprayed like rain.

Fairies hovered above, eyes wide in shock.

"What, what just happened?" someone whispered. "I didn’t even see Master. All I heard was the air scream."

Rowan’s eyes scanned the battlefield, cold and unyielding.

"Now, I have to end him," he said.

Hai’s gaze flickered, barely coherent, terror flashing across his face.

Rowan moved again.

Each fragment of Hai, suspended in the air, was annihilated instantly.

Nothing remained.

No regeneration. No recovery. No chance.

Rowan’s aura pressed down, absolute and merciless.

Even the Demon Lord, watching through every eye, would see this.

Rowan turned his gaze to the next target.

Kosan’s tears glistened.

"Please, please, please let me go," Kosan begged, voice trembling.

Rowan’s lips curled into a cold smile.

"Oh really?" he murmured. "When were you telling me that? Didn’t you claim to be an Iron Cane Demon? You said you would defeat me. And now you’re crying? Begging for mercy?"

"You are about to die," Rowan continued, voice cutting like ice. "At least die with some pride. And I know the Demon Lord is watching. He sees everything."

Rowan’s eyes locked onto Kosan.

"See? I am expecting you. No matter how you reduce your aura, no matter how carefully you move, I will find you. And when that time comes, I will come for you."

He raised his blade.

Time slowed around Kosan.

"Not this time," Rowan said coldly.

His sword slashed through the air.

VROOOM!

Kosan’s head was severed midair.

Rowan’s blade didn’t stop.

He struck the forehead, shattering the main core.

Boom.

Hai and Kosan, both utterly destroyed.

Fenrir stepped forward slowly, his massive form towering over Rowan.

He bent his head slightly, eyes glowing with restrained respect.

"You’re truly outstanding," Fenrir rumbled, his deep voice shaking the ground beneath him.

"Isn’t it about time?" Rowan asked, calm, eyes unwavering.

"It’s about time," Fenrir replied. "You grant my wish."

Rowan’s gaze sharpened.

"What do you mean? What wish?" he asked, voice steady and cold.

Fenrir’s massive head lowered slightly.

"Have you forgotten the very first time... when your father fought Valzaha? You promised me back then. You said I could ask you for anything... yet I never did."