Life After Prison

The resounding shout jolted the rest of the Gahrrs, whose clarity had returned and replaced their heightened aggression.

Favian, who was still locking horns with Myles and the others, held his spiritual treasure that was glowing brightly. The aura from his weapon radiated from him as a center and sliced across the air in a circular shape.

As Myles and the others evaded, Favian seized the moment to retreat to Clarkin’s side.

Not long later, dozens of enraged Gahrr elders returned with various injuries across their body. The ravines carved into the ground by the multitude of sword light only deepened Clarkin’s frustration, casting a somber gloom all over his face.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

He brought over nearly 80 of his elders, including the formidable Favian and two level eight paragons.

In the end, many were injured, and he took it as a personal affront that Severin had killed another two of his paragon-level elders.

Despite his unwillingness to concede, Clarkin found himself helpless to face with the situation at hand. Oskar’s strength far surpassed his own, and a continuation of the battle would likely result in the demise of both his strongest elders and himself.

He recognized the futility of dragging the battle any further, and he pulled a long face as he glanced up and snorted.

Given his status as a royal paragon, Clarkin assumed that his intervention would prompt Oskar to hand over Severin. Yet that did not go as planned-Oskar sided with Severin and did not hesitate to defend the wrongdoer even if it meant confronting the Gahrrs.

The unfavorable development demonstrated to Clarkin that coercing Oskar into surrendering Severin was a foolish exercise. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh.

When he finally relaxed his fingers, he turning to his group and said, “Let’s make our retreat.”

Clarkin transformed into a streak of light that disappeared into the sky. The rest of the Gahrrs had their spirits crushed, and there was nothing else they could do except leave the Grandiuno Sect in dejection.

Once all the Gahrrs had disappeared from sight, the nine peak masters breathed a unanimous sigh of relief.

Myles-clad in black training clothes, white trousers, and black shoes-descended to Severin’s side and asked, “Are you injured?”

He had witnessed Severin employing a mysterious power to effortlessly eradicate two level three paragons simultaneously. The resulting swordlight had carved a ravine thousands of feet long on the ground, where traces of his strong swordwill remained.

Severin shook his head in response.

“I’m fine.”

His trump card was a simple technique that would end the life of his opponent as soon as he unsheathed his sword, and two level three paragons posed no threat to him at all.

Myles grinned when he saw that Severin was unharmed.

“I’ve weathered the attacks of several paragons for you. I hope you won’t forget this gesture.”

Severin nodded with a smile. “I’ll always remember your help.”

He understood that the nine peak masters had taken a stand for him because they wanted something in it for them as well. There was no free lunch-that much, he acknowledged.

The other peak masters continued to expressed their concern for him.

“Haha, the Gahrrs are nothing to worry about. Favian can rage for as long as he wants, but we will never allow him to lay a finger on you!”