Elder Huxley walked up to Maron, his tone hesitant. "Master Maron, isn't Frank Lawrence..." Maron shrugged. "He's better than | thought, able to challenge that bitch as an equal.” "But what about the chief—" "Silence," Maron growled as he shot him an icy look. "He's barely alive, so shut it unless you want all of us dead!" "Yes, Master Maron." Elder Huxley sighed heavily.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Come on, Elder Huxley." Maron chuckled, seeing his concern. "I know that it's hard on you as an elder of our sect, seeing how things have turned out. but would you rather have Sage Lake Sect stay stuck in measly Southdam for another hundred years?!" "Just think about it in another way," he continued with an enigmatic smile. "Bocek Ocean is dead, and my father will soon be too.
Who else would know what we did? And once this match is over and | have my way with Silverbell, do you know what's going to happen?" Elder Huxley shook his head. "I'm not sure. and I'm confused. Wouldn't Lady Silverbell punish us?" "Punish us?" Maron laughed confidently and pointed at Frank, who was still fighting against Silverbell intensely. "Why would | be punished? What crime have | committed? It's all Frank's fault for drugging Silverbell with Passion Dust. | was merely aiding her in her distress but was caught in the moment as Silverbell was overwhelmed with passion.
"The rest will be history." Maron's grin broadened. "Frank will be dead, while Sage Lake Sect will be accepted into the alliance after | have Lady Silverbell's body. And you elders will benefit from this too, don't you think? The sky's the limit—that is, after we join the Martial Alliance. How is that not better than suffering the whims of my old man or Bocek Ocean?" Elder Huxley's eyes lit up, and he bowed in deference. "Your plan is flawless, Master Maron. I'm earnestly impressed!" Maron snorted, and he sat leisurely on the chair that some Sage Lake Sect apprentices brought. "Indeed. Now, let's just wait for the drug to kick in—once it does, we'll blame Frank for it!" Clang! Clang! Clang! The clash of swords between Frank and Silverbell raged on.
With a combination of misdirection and blurring speed, Frank's swordcraft continued to befuddle Silverbell, coming deadly close on occasion.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmSilverbell was not backing down, however—it was rare for her to encounter a sword master of Frank's caliber, and she unleashed all the techniques she kept sheathed without a care.
"Rain of Blades!" she bellowed as she vaulted to the air, firing a multitude of sword beams at Frank as if it were raining.
Frank was quietly impressed—the brat had improved by leaps and bounds, and swordcraft alone was not enough to defeat her.
"Dancing Storm!" he cried as he swung his sword in turn, as if cutting through the rain.
He unleashed a burst of sword beams of his own, parrying the rain of beams that Silverbell unleashed.
In the distance, Maron narrowed his eyes. "That's over thirty strikes!"