Chapter 1017: Peak Martial Artist

Chapter 1017: The Peak Martial Artist

Planet Phiri.

Streaks of light swept across the cosmos, halting at a distance from the world to reveal the silhouette of the Black Star Legion’s exploration fleet.

“Deputy Legion Commander, we have arrived.”

On the bridge, Hela’s gaze pierced through the viewport toward Phiri, where Gorutan’s armada hung suspended in the planet’s outer exosphere, facing them across the void.

“Open a wide-band channel and hail them.” Hela resolved to offer courtesy before drawing steel.

The comms officer dispatched the signal, and after a brief pause, a transmission request materialized on the screen.

Upon connection, the display resolved into the visage of a beast-like humanoid, a cadre of Calamity rank.

“I am Goragon, son of the Beast Ancestor. I pay my respects to Lady Hela.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Hela frowned.

“My father wishes to invite you to parley upon Phiri. He awaits you on the surface.”

“To discuss what?”

“I am unaware of my father’s designs. The question is, do you dare to come?” Goragon’s tone was blunt, laced with aggression.

“Very well. Clear the path, allow my fleet to descend, and then we shall talk.”

“Apologies, but my father decreed that only you may cross. The fleet stays behind.”

“Then tell him to be damned.”

Hela turned sharply, her voice cutting through the bridge. “All hands, advance. Annihilate any vessel that dares impede our path.”

At that precise moment, the transmission shifted, and Gorutan’s figure materialized.

To appear naked before an equal would be profoundly rude; today, he wore a simple sleeveless combat harness, standing with arms crossed and a countenance devoid of expression.

“Impressive. It seems the Black Star Legion boasts a formidable deputy commander.”

Observing this, Hela raised a clenched fist to halt all orders and hold position, her eyes narrowing. “Gorutan, I am curious. The Black Star Legion holds no quarrel with you. Why provoke us?”

Gorutan’s voice rumbled like grinding stone. “Wish to know why? I shall tell you face to face, provided you possess the courage. I await you on the planetary surface. Both of us shall order our fleets to withdraw from Phiri’s vicinity.”

With that, Gorutan’s armada pulled back first, mirroring the Black Star fleet across the void, positioning the planet precisely at the midpoint between the two forces, leaving Gorutan utterly alone upon Phiri.

Hela pondered for a moment, then turned to her adjutant. “Conduct a full-spectrum scan of Phiri and its immediate surroundings. Detect any concealed life signatures or energy reservoirs. We cannot afford to walk into an ambush.”

The adjutant nodded, relayed the order, and shortly received a report from below. “The perimeter is clear. Only Gorutan’s life signature registers… Shall we open fire?”

Before her superior could speak, the adjutant was already scheming to strike Gorutan while the opportunity presented itself.

“If he offers sincerity, I will hear him out. Hold position here. Keep all weapon systems armed and maintain perimeter vigilance. Should their fleet exhibit any hostile maneuver, fire immediately.”

Even a surprise fleet assault would scarcely threaten Gorutan; his audacity stemmed from unshakable confidence. Uncertain of his true intentions, Hela chose to accept the meeting.

Perhaps Gorutan intended to craft a duel to ambush her, yet she felt no panic. This was precisely what she desired. Even if she could not best a peak Super-A rank, she could certainly hold her ground for a time.

Aboard a compact shuttle, Hela plunged swiftly into Phiri’s atmosphere, hovering high above the surface.

With a hiss, the hatch parted, and Hela stepped into the void, gazing down upon the world below.

Amidst a desolate plain scarred by jagged monoliths, Gorutan sat upon a massive boulder, elbows resting on his knees, palms interlaced before him. He tilted his head upward to meet Hela’s gaze and spoke slowly:

“To be an esper, yet dare approach a peak Super-A martial artist at close quarters… you possess considerable nerve.”

The sound waves rolling from his lips seemed to quake the very air between heaven and earth, rippling outward like distant thunder.

Hela did not descend, remaining suspended in the sky. “Speak plainly. What do you want from me?”

Gorutan fixed his stare upon her, his tone measured. “I care not for others’ opinions, but in my eyes, you stand as the most promising among this generation’s newly ascended Super-A ranks.”

“...And?” Hela raised an eyebrow.

“A talent such as yours will inevitably scale greater heights. There is no need to serve beneath another. Striking out on your own suits you far better.” Gorutan’s voice remained calm.

A flicker passed through Hela’s eyes. “What faction do you represent, sowing discord between me and the Black Star? The Three Great Civilizations?”

“I represent only myself and the Interstellar Black Market Management Committee. You may take my words as sincere counsel.”

“Do you not find yourself overstepping?” Hela sneered.

“I can plainly see you are a woman of iron will, one who chafes at taking orders. Sooner or later, you will inevitably break free.” Gorutan’s gaze held a spark of keen interest. “When that day comes, I shall extend you an invitation to become one of the Interstellar Black Market’s patrons.”

He was not merely sowing discord; he was actively poaching her.

Hela’s expression remained utterly impassive. “My comms are open. The Black Star hears every word you speak.”

“Let him hear, then.” Gorutan dismissed it with a wave. “You possess the right to choose. You are not his slave.”

“I have no interest in your invitation.” Hela remained unmoved. “Have you finished? Withdraw your forces, and we shall pretend this provocation never occurred.”

“I see no provocation here. Phiri never belonged to the Black Star Legion. This is a free competition zone, not your territory. No law dictates that a world you desire cannot be claimed by another.” Gorutan shook his head.

“You had ample opportunity to claim this world earlier. Yet you only moved to seize it after we made our choice. What is that, if not provocation?” Hela countered.

“Do not be so tyrannical, child.” Gorutan grinned widely. “First come, first served. It is you who should depart. Seek another world. This place is now my stronghold.”

As his words fell, the atmosphere grew taut as a drawn bow, the two locked in mutual defiance.

Bound by a commission, he would yield to none of Hela’s reactions. His sole aim was to force her hand, to test her through combat.

In his estimation, the assignment was straightforward. A skirmish with Hela would cost the Black Star Legion a quiet loss, after which he would decide whether to withdraw. The matter would be settled.

Conflicts and provocations of this magnitude might breed Black Star resentment, but would hardly escalate to a war of annihilation. He was fairly certain that just as he harbored no desire to make enemies of the Black Star, they held no wish to cross him. Both sides were forces best not provoked.

Hela’s countenance hardened into absolute ice. Gorutan spoke truth; the Black Star Legion held no moral high ground... Yet, to yield in such circumstances would earn no praise for reasonableness, only contempt for weakness.

If every dispute could be settled through reason, the cosmos would know no conflict.

You will not yield, nor will I. Since he deliberately sought trouble, only force remained as the path to resolution.

Gazing upon Gorutan’s malevolent smirk, Hela fell silent for a heartbeat, then struck without warning!

BOOM!

A cataclysmic tide of death energy erupted, transforming into a tempest of strikes that rained down from the heavens, blotting out the sky!

“Looks rather intimidating.” Gorutan cracked his neck and drove his feet downward.

CRACK!

The earth shattered with a deafening roar, his impact carving a colossal ring-shaped chasm, while shockwaves hurled dust and debris in every direction.

His entire form condensed into a meteor, plunging straight into the storm of death energy. A deep brown aura of martial flame enveloped him, radiating a feral, unbridled ferocity.

THUD!

The meteor flashed past in an instant. Before Hela could register the movement, a fist wreathed in flame slammed brutally into her midsection.

Her combat suit’s shields fractured, fine cracks spiderwebbing across the outer plating. Her body was hurled backward with a violent crack, tearing through successive sonic booms as she streaked away.

“Such immense power... such devastating speed...” Hela’s expression shifted subtly.

Even the suit’s shock-absorption systems failed to dampen the catastrophic force. Hela felt as though her internal organs had been crushed flat by a single blow, agony searing through her. She barely managed to stabilize her posture midair, her heart pounding with silent alarm.

Both stood at the peak of Super-A, yet the sensation of clashing with Gorutan differed entirely from Han Xiao.

Han Xiao exerted total domination, flawless in every aspect, wielding absolute control as though he could mold her to his whims. Gorutan’s combat style, by contrast, was pure, unadulterated savagery, like a charging beast that shattered all obstacles in its path.

Hela’s conception of a Super-A rank martial artist was largely shaped by Herber, yet that bore no resemblance to a peak Super-A warrior; they existed in entirely different tiers of power.

Speed, strength, and the sheer density of their aura had all undergone a qualitative leap; to put it plainly, a single Gorutan could crush three or four Herbers to death with his bare hands.

Only those who had ascended to the Ss tier could truly claim the title of peak Super-A, and the combat prowess at that echelon was no jest.

Though his strike had landed true, Gorutan made no move to press the advantage. Instead, he hovered motionless, casting his gaze downward to study the death energy clinging to his form.

His protective aura was profoundly dense, deflecting the vast majority of the assault; only a fraction breached to his flesh, layering upon him merely a few stacks of [Death Erosion].

“This corrosive energy appears tethered to vitality… So the rumors hold true. You crippled Tolaine using this very method. The more you hoard, the greater your explosive force becomes.”

Gorutan shot Hela a sidelong glance, then unleashed a torrent of aura from his entire body, shattering the clinging death energy and purging every trace of [Death Erosion]. Martial artists who relied upon their physical prowess typically possessed a repertoire of techniques designed to cleanse their bodies of debuffs.

“A bit troublesome…” Hela gritted her teeth, yet a fierce light ignited in her eyes.

She had found Gorutan’s combat strength somewhat beyond her expectations, but rather than induce retreat, it only stoked her battle lust to a fever pitch.

In the next instant, Hela once more seized the initiative, her death energy surging like a tide as she struck, the very force propelling her through the void at breakneck speed.

A crimson wave, roaring like mountains and seas, crashed toward him. Gorutan dropped his shoulders, sank into a lunge, and drove a fist into the empty air before him. In a fraction of a second, an invisible spherical shockwave detonated midair, swiftly enveloping the incoming death energy.

RUMBLE!

The reverberation echoed across heaven and earth. That strike was undeniably a technique; the very particles of space ahead seemed to vibrate at a lethal frequency, causing the approaching death energy to shatter and dissipate in rapid succession, denied any chance to brush against his skin.

“Your prowess seems ill-suited to your arrogance.”

Gorutan’s expression remained placid. His figure vanished in a blink, his body igniting at full velocity.

WHOOSH!

The disparity in speed was too vast. Before Hela could even register the shift, Gorutan was already at her side, his whip-like leg, coiled with monstrous force, lashing viciously against her back.

THUD!

Her body arched backward, launching skyward like a fired cannonball, careening straight out into the outer expanse.

“Cough… I cannot engage him in close quarters.” Hela felt as though a dozen bones had been shattered by that single kick, and she reached her conclusion instantly.

When facing Tolaine, she could still rely on blood absorption to trade blows head-on, simply because the gap in their power was negligible. But against a peak Super-A martial artist, her strength, speed, and close-combat finesse fell woefully short. The chasm in raw capability was too vast; despite sharing the same Super-A classification, she could not even clearly track his movements!

In the realm of melee combat, a peak Super-A warrior was virtually invincible. To clash directly with one was to court death.

“One against one, I have no means to retaliate. I must complicate the battlefield.”

As Hela’s mind raced through tactical options, the comms unit embedded in her combat suit crackled to life, carrying Han Xiao’s faintly amused voice; he had been monitoring the entire exchange.

“Well? Feeling the weight of that power gap now? Do you require assistance?”

“No need.” Hela shook her head. If she constantly relied on Black Star to bail her out, how would she ever grow?

“But you are outmatched. If it goes south, let me step in.”

Han Xiao raised an eyebrow. He had known from the start that Hela could not win.

During the Conclave of Gods, he had gathered intelligence on Gorutan’s attributes, only to find a dossier filled with question marks. Even Han Xiao himself was uncertain he could defeat Gorutan in a direct confrontation, let alone Hela in her current state. If peak Super-A warriors were so easily subdued, they would not command such terrifying deterrence.

Yet he also knew that even if she could not win, she would not be the one to suffer the loss. Thus, he chose not to interfere with her trial.

“Hmph. Save your help for when I am on the brink of death.”

Hela stabilized her trajectory, turned to face him, and while striving to maintain distance, lashed out with waves of death energy to pin Gorutan down.

It hardly qualified as a skirmish; the battle was nearly a one-sided slaughter. Were it not for Gorutan’s deliberate restraint, aimed at forcing Hela to reveal her full arsenal, she would have been nothing but a punching bag. Such absolute dominance in speed and strength was enough to shatter any technique with brute force alone.

Yet Gorutan found no comfort in his advantage. Enduring barrage after barrage of death energy, a flicker of wariness crept into his mind:

“A bizarre ability. Were it not for my overwhelming physical superiority, her powers might well pose a grave threat to me…”

Another fist connected with Hela’s shoulder, sending her careening outward. As Gorutan prepared to pursue, he suddenly noticed her gritting her teeth to alter her trajectory, her destination unmistakably his fleet.

“She deliberately flies toward my forces? Does she not fear being surrounded?”

Gorutan paused, momentarily stunned. At that precise moment, Hela’s hand shifted into a new sigil, and a violent psychic ripple erupted outward.

His body froze. The world before him warped and twisted, as though he had been violently yanked into a pitch-black void.

Casting his gaze downward, he beheld countless faces of vengeful spirits.

[Abyss of the Dead]!

Though martial artists tempered their minds, their psychic resistance was not boundless. Struck by this mental domination technique, Gorutan stood paralyzed on the spot.

Seizing the opening, Hela wrapped herself in a vortex of death energy, smashed straight through the protective barrier erected by Gorutan’s fleet, and plunged into the heart of the armada.

“What is she doing?” Goragon, who had previously conversed with Hela, stood within the command deck of one of the vessels, utterly bewildered.

Before he could muster a response, Hela raised both hands. The death energy detonated with cataclysmic force, sweeping toward every warship in her vicinity.

“What!”

Goragon’s eyes widened in panic, and he rushed to order the fleet into evasive maneuvers.

Yet before his command could leave his lips, a dark crimson energy descended like a shroud, blotting out the viewports, closing in at terrifying speed, and swallowing his entire field of vision.

Goragon’s eyes bulged in sheer horror.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!

In a single heartbeat, vessel after vessel was crunched and devoured by the death energy like brittle biscuits, and countless descendants of Gorutan had their lives reaped in an instant.

The vitality siphoned back through [Blood Drain] caused Hela’s health to surge upward at a breathtaking pace.

From their earlier exchange, Hela had made it abundantly clear to herself that she could never best Gorutan in a duel. Relying solely on her own reserves, she would not last long. The only way to extend her endurance was to turn the engagement into a melee, allowing her to harvest a greater volume of vitality.

Her combat efficacy in large-scale warfare far surpassed that of one-on-one duels. A brawl was her true domain!

Hela tore through the fleet with reckless abandon, slaughtering without mercy. Her condition rebounded rapidly, while a chorus of agonized screams was drowned beneath the thunder of detonations.

By then, Gorutan had finally shaken off the mental domination of [Abyss of the Dead]. The moment his senses returned, he witnessed Hela breaking free from him, wantonly butchering his progeny. His countenance darkened instantly, and a volcanic fury erupted within him.

In his eyes, she was slaughtering his bloodline to vent her wrath!

Many among them were elites he had painstakingly cultivated!

“How dare you?!”