Chapter 1218
The crowd could not help but wonder if Andrew was just that hurried to die.
“Dragon Claw Strike!” With a low, lethal growl, Ellis’s eyes struck with murder. His hands curled into claws, shooting straight for Andrew’s chest and eyes, going for nothing less than a kill shot right from the start.
However, Andrew’s expression did not change. He stepped back once, then again, calm and fluid. It looked casual, but every move was calculated—just enough to slip right past Ellis’s deadly thrusts.
“Not bad. That’s some decent footwork,” Ellis sneered, his tone mocking even as he circled again. Then, his wiry frame lunged low, sweeping toward Andrew with a lightning-fast kick.
Andrew’s voice remained quiet and steady. “Dragon Claw Strike and Golden Cicada Stance are elite techniques from Silverthorn Monastery. Too bad you only learned the shell, not the substance.” He stopped moving. Like a rock in a river, his stance suddenly locked in place.
Ellis’s sweeping legs, fast as a blur, collided full-force into Andrew’s planted stance, right as his own momentum was fading. A dull ache pulsed up Ellis’s leg, enough to make him wince. He pulled back, rising to his feet with an unsettled look in his eyes. ‘What the hell? How did this punk just read the flaw in my strike that clearly? That wasn’t supposed to happen.’
His thoughts raced, but he shook them off. It had to be luck—dumb luck. He let out a deep breath, then roared, his palms flying forward. One strike after another echoed through the air like whip cracks.
“Let’s see how you handle this!” Ellis snarled. “This is Palm of Hollow Truths—another Silverthorn technique. If you recognized Dragon Claw and Cicada, let’s see what you do with this one!”
The crowd recoiled at the sheer force of his blows. The air vibrated with every strike—shockwaves blasting through the alley. Palm of Hollow Truths was a devastating technique. Legend had it that it was almost impossible to withstand. To counter it? You would need to be someone at the level of a martial king.
Ellis never even considered that possibility. That kind of power was a pipe dream, unreachable for almost anyone. If Andrew were already a martial king, Ellis would have bowed down instead of picking a fight.
But right then, Andrew’s body shifted. He arched like a drawn bow, braced by his hands and feet, forming a low, grounded frame that refused to budge. Ellis’s crushing palms blasted downward, but Andrew did not flinch.
Then, it happened.
Andrew’s eyes snapped into focus, like a hawk zeroing in on prey, and he surged forward like a cannon shot. His counterstrikes were just as open and forceful—one palm slammed into Ellis’s wrist, the other straight for his forehead. Ellis twisted his body with a shout, barely avoiding a fatal blow. However, panic flooded his chest. ‘What the hell?! How does this guy know Palm of Hollow Truths?!’
There was no time to process it. Andrew was already pressing forward again, his hands unleashing strike after seamless strike. Each blow felt endless—fluid and powerful, like an unrelenting river crashing through rock. Ellis could hardly breathe, recognizing this as the highest form of the technique—‘Waterlike Perfection’, the ultimate level of Palm of Hollow Truths. A technique so honed it became indestructible, yet flowing unyielding and eternal like water itself.
Ellis had only seen it once in his life, during a rare demonstration by an elder monk at Silverthorn. Not even the master who had trained him had reached that level. Yet, this nobody—this stranger—was displaying it effortlessly?
Andrew’s voice rang out, cold and resolute. “So what if you studied under the monks of Silverthorn Monastery? In my eyes, Ellis, you’re just a slightly bigger insect than the rest. And you know what insects are for? To be crushed underfoot.”
The moment his final word dropped, Andrew drew back his palms and transformed his hands into hooked claws. Like lightning, his Dragon Claw slashed across Ellis’s chest, ripping cloth and skin alike. Ellis let out a blood-curdling scream. His eyes were wide with terror, blood spilling from the corner of his lips as he stumbled back.
“Andrew… y-you know Dragon Claw too? Who the hell are you? There’s no way you’re just some nobody!”
But Andrew did not answer. He did not have the time or interest to respond to the dying curiosity of a man who was already finished. Now that Ellis was on the brink, he wanted to know who Andrew really was.