The Ghost Eye Mad Blade has never shown his true face. Ever since he was active on the Western Continent as a Gold Level adventurer years ago, he has worn an iron mask to restrain his power.

Mystery can spark the imagination.

Since Saleret became a Hall-level adventurer, he's been nothing but trouble; a nerve-ridden lunatic that everyone avoids, because this mask is inherently eerie, making one imagine its wearer to be hideously ugly.

After the massacre seven years ago, Saleret became a pariah, and under the mask, he must be ghastly, too hideous to face others.

However, the truth is.

The reality is hugely contrasting.

The person consistently wears jodhpurs and military boots, his hair spiked backward like steel needles with a few strands hanging over his forehead, wearing an iron mask. His upper body is covered in tattoos of dragons and tigers, terrorizing the authorities, all haunted with demonic tattoos.

Having done many terrifying deeds, even if he isn't ugly, the first impression is of iron-clad toughness or a terrorist figure.

This is the real dark horse.

Apart from some rough skin, surprisingly, he has refined features, a sculptural and three-dimensional face, yet the contours are not sharp, with a solitary thinness that hides a subtle youthful vibe.

Kind of explosively handsome.

But much like that Netherworld Envoy, what seems like a wildness mixed with naivety is only a facade; one's appearance can't define a person.

Saleret's a pure maniac.

His eyes emit a fierce light, a pair of blood-red eyes blazing with light.

Without the mask containing special magic pattern circuits, he couldn't control this power.

This mask came from the Northernmost Land of the North, gifted by a self-proclaimed eccentric from eighteen hundred years ago, asking Saleret to monitor this world. When the time comes, it will return to claim it.

The reward for Saleret: the fearsome power to foresee the future and freeze everything.

In an instant.

The drilling ground turned into permafrost, a frigid expanse, cracking open the crust, and those eyes are like a lighthouse lens, turning the fan-shaped area ahead into a blood-red hell.

In the arena, it's freezing beyond belief, as if in the Northernmost Land of the North.

Had it not been for Quan Jiu's Master Level Qi Sect Secret Technique, he would have become an ice sculpture, dying instantly. Even the barrier set by the Court Mage began to spread with ice threads, fogging over, making everything inside the ground become blurry.

Saleret felt a bit unfair winning because this couldn't be called martial art; truly, he wasn't a match for this Qi Gong Man.

"I lost, but there's something I must do."

Saleret raised his twin blades; in this state, he hasn't been defeated, not even after the massacre, when countless top experts stormed his place.

Quan Jiu scoffed.

He originally came to wash the Western Continent of top experts in blood.

"Do you think... a sideshow can scare me?"

Quan Jiu.

Stopped pretending.

The sword... flashed!

Repeated a thousand times!

The Master Level Qi Sect Secret Power was unleashed without reservation.

Those rays of swordlight, slashes, burst open like a complex entangled thread, the labyrinthine trajectory continuously expanding and contracting.

As if in brain ischemia-induced dizziness, phantom halos appear in the darkness, spreading in a hazy manner, gusts of murderous intent wind frequently blew past.

Cutting and merciless killing, spinning kill, instant kill, phantom kill, shadow kill, annihilation kill!

In a mere moment.

"How about it?"

Quan Jiu flicked the sword to shrug off the blood droplets.

The female commentator was already at a loss for words, only able to say that the final elimination round turned into a championship match, bringing together the highest standard events from all over the continent; it's extremely grand this year.

Even covered in ice of freezing profundity, Saleret was bleeding from head to toe, nicked by a thousand cuts, dead beyond dead, blood poured like a flood, a momentary blood loss turned the permafrost into a puddle of blood.

Foresee the future, seize... the past.

This is not a power humans can contend with, but rather from the legendary World in the Painting, scarcely recorded in any documents.

It's not some terrifying self-healing power; it's the parameter of time being altered, but it seems it can only affect the Ghost Eye Mad Blade himself, as Saleret's scale began to rewind.

Blood flowed backward, wounds healed.

All of Saleret's scales are rewinding; he did not have any recollection of being hit, or what happened in between.

This power is uncontrollable, so the iron mask is needed to restrain it, never to be removed unless absolutely necessary.

"Undead Creation? Ghost Soul?"

Quan Jiu has seen every possible scene; if swordsmanship didn't work, then use absolute strength to crush everything!

Shadow of Death stomped his legs into the permafrost, knees slightly bent to lower his center of gravity, Qi Sect Secret Power overloaded to the extreme, the ink-black hair danced gustily, the hem of his clothes billowing, his wrist pressing back to build momentum, his bones cracking with a slight tremor, his Qi energy surged, causing the surrounding ice layers to crack apart.

Under the cover of the Heavenly Gang Power, even the light dimmed, and he clenched his fist single-handedly, slowly pulling back his arm, his shoulder turning back, the half-opened attire ripped apart, and the muscle lines on his back bulged like ancient tree roots, each muscle exerting force, the Qi Sect Secret Power gone wild exerted such huge pressure that pushed the ground beneath his feet several feet down, as if suppressing some ultimate violent force.

"Die!"

A punch was hurled out!

It could only be described as earth-shattering.

Even though the barrier had been strengthened urgently due to Bai Xing and Xiao Long's battle earlier, it began to tremble.

In previous tournaments, Quan Jiu was very likely to secure a champion seat, but Saleret was the ultimate jinx.

Heavens colliding with the earth!

All the frozen ice on the permafrost was flipped up, instantly hurled to crash against the top of the barrier, shattered to pieces, a horrifying whirlwind exploded, revealing the truest ground, clearing the cold mists for light, the land left in ruins.

The most primal destructive force ended all in the field.

Even Quan Jiu could hardly hold up, starting to pant, none could survive under such an assault, but a lion uses full force when hunting a rabbit, calling upon his Qi to summon his sword.

His gaze swept toward Saleret's corpse.

Yet the scale began to rewind.

Saleret had no memory of being hit by this punch.

"Indeed you won, in martial arts; admit defeat, you cannot defeat me."

Saleret's scale could move forward more, but the cost is... terrifying; this belongs to the realm of gods, and the overwhelming influx of chaotic memories could fry one's brain. Saleret had only used it once in his life.

"Impossible!"

Quan Jiu could hardly maintain his composure, though he refused to accept it; there couldn't be an invulnerable being, no matter how powerful the ability, it must have a limit, it couldn't be used endlessly.

Not yet at the limit!

Should he take the risk of damaging his energy channels to eliminate this person?

"No choice then..."

Saleret had to push his scale forward, accelerating his own flow, suffering greatly from its past use; this time, he merely adjusted for two seconds.

His eyes blazed with light, reflecting a fiery purgatory.

Saleret moved.

It was incomprehensibly extreme strength, pure speed, and reflexes, breaking through any organic life form's limits, entirely like a celestial demon.

The most daunting aspect is.

Simultaneously, he foresaw Quan Jiu's future.

To Saleret, anything that takes ordinary people two seconds to complete, he performed in an instant, seamlessly, with intervals so minuscule they were unnoticeable.

In these two seconds, Quan Jiu's actions seemed slowed down by countless times, even in this state, repeatedly stabbing with his sword ended up defending a few strikes by sheer chance, truly living up to Shadow of Death.

But it ends here.

This is miraculous power.

To Saleret, time itself hadn't slowed; he merely overloaded every task two seconds required in an instant.

Swooping... magnificent slice.

To Quan Jiu, his view merely darkened, and he was already struck, blood spurting uncontrollably out.

"Damn you..."

Clutching his chest with the horrific knife wound, the massive blood loss instantly knocked him out into shock.

Saleret, plagued by memory overload, endured a splitting headache, leaving no time to finish him off.

The female announcer remained stunned for several moments before speaking.

"Stunning! The final ticket goes to the Ghost Eye Mad Blade, earning a spot in the championship battle!"

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