Chapter 1241 - Giralda (2) (1/2)

A valiant older man appeared in the skies above the two Kings.

Unlike the two boisterous young men who wore shining gold armor, he wore simple robes. His white-greyish hair was tied into a single well-kept ponytail, extenuating his blue eyes all the more.

He was none other than King Cromwell, grandfather to Bors, Master of the sect and according to the public, the most powerful expert of the Grand Templar Sect.

However, at this moment, his usual casual, scholarly appearance, wasn't so casual at all. Even he had to take this singular attack of Dyon's as serious as possible.

Dyon's dull eyes pitched in slight surprise when he focused on the extended palm of King Cromwell. His light will… It was very close to evolving!

The idea of will progression wasn't foreign to Dyon. However, it was incredibly difficult to do. For example, celestial will becoming the supreme law version of itself, or time and space will attempting to accomplish the same feat.

However, light will could only evolve to one thing… The greatest purity will in existence: Holy Will!

King Cromwell grunted, striking outward with a full force blow toward Dyon's flames.

A blindingly bright illusory dao array appeared just behind him, spanning almost two meters wide. His momentum climbed, reaching its peak just as his hand met Dyon's attack.

BOOM!

King Cromwell's eyes widened when his palm collided with the black flames. Even when taking it seriously, he had still managed to underestimate it.

The skin of his palm disappeared in an instant, burning to ash even as the muscles beneath followed suit, leaving only white bone.

In a moment of fierce determination, his celestial energy surged into what remained of his hand, pouring outward with all the momentum he could muster to clench a fist.

Still, it didn't matter. The force of Dyon's sword strike was unstoppable. Although King Cromwell was the strongest expert their sect had, he was also of the 6th celestial stage, it was just that his comprehension was deeper and that he was a breath away from the 7th celestial stage.

'Do I really have to?' King Cromwell frowned.

Just when King Cromwell felt that he was being painted into a corner, Dyon's hand reached outward, clenching slightly. In a moment of absolute control, the unstoppable momentum died down, stopping completely.

”I'll say it again.” He started, his voice without emotion. ”Bring Percival Valore here. Don't push me.”