NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1775: Commander
The resplendent Sword Qi filled the sky, exploding in the air like fireworks!
Though Sword Qi is formless, when imbued with Spiritual Power, it bursts into white vapor.
Diego Leopold died decisively, without even the chance to leave any last words.
The once lively Dark Moon Palace.
On this night, had fallen into silence once again, perhaps for the umpteenth time.
Or rather, shock.
The martial artists widened their eyes in disbelief.
This swordsmanship, was it really created by the West Tower?
By a young master?
The swordsmanship that Julius Reed had displayed was already dazzling enough to impress them!
But the last stroke, the masterpiece, overshadowed all the previous moves in its impact.
The previous moves, surprisingly, were a prelude.
A prelude to this final sword.
What kind of exaggeration is this swordsmanship?
In attendance were some masters of Sword Dao, yet none could discern the nuance.
If they could discern a vague outline in the previous moves, the final sword left them utterly stunned.
This last sword was not just a single stroke.
It was the culmination of the entire swordsmanship set.
Every move and style before was a foundation for what followed, that's the essence.
This is why, when West Tower said, you can at most grasp the superficial elements but never perceive its soul.
All the Great Grandmasters present were stunned.
The soul!
This is something so many long for but can never reach.
Martial artists mostly study the classics left by their predecessors, often failing to fully comprehend even those.
Only the powerful can create their own moves, injecting their own soul into them.
When that last sword exploded.
Martial artists present felt a surge of self-confidence!
Arrogance!
Disdainful of all!
And even an unstoppable edge!
As if at the moment he unsheathed his sword, he was already invincible in the world.
"Is there anyone who still doubts me?" Julius Reed rested his right hand on the sword, glancing around.
Who still dared to speak?
Courted death?
Or thought they had too many heads?
"I seemed to hear some unfavorable words just now," Julius Reed looked at Han Caldwell: "Mr. Caldwell, Old Mr. Leopold was your man. Could it be you were unwilling to marry off your granddaughter to me and conspired with him to frame me?"
"I..." Han Caldwell was somewhat at a loss for words.
The developments were entirely beyond his expectations.
Han Caldwell once again felt this immense disparity!
On the verge of success, yet failed at the last one percent!
"But it doesn't matter. The person, I've already killed. I've helped you kill to silence, eliminating future troubles. In the future, any moves, just bring them on."
Julius Reed slowly returned to his seat, picked up a cup of wine, and drank it down in one gulp.
"All my life, I've been envied by others. Those who want to kill me are too many to count. But, I'm still alive."
Julius Reed lifted up a wine jug, pouring the wine on the ground.
Then, he threw away the jug, pointing at Diego Leopold: "The one who died, is him."
Han Caldwell's expression was as dark as water.
He clenched his fists tightly, body tensed.
Failed!
Failed again!
Why is this young man so terrifying!
In the eyes of the martial artists present, a flicker of fanaticism even ignited.
Especially those young martial artists who once wanted to trap and kill Julius Reed!
All rose up.
Raising their cups, toasting.
"We young people should be like this!"
"West Tower, you deserve our respect!"
With that said!
Those young masters from different sects, coming from all directions.
Raised their cups and drank heartily!
Seeing this scene, Han Caldwell gnawed his teeth in hatred.
If this continues, his position is in jeopardy!
Devlin sat beside Han Caldwell, speechless.
He couldn't believe that such an outstanding young man has no background information available?
The only person this arrogant he had ever seen was the Lord.
But Han Caldwell and Emperor Charlotte Grey had already probed, confirming this West Tower was not the Lord.
Devlin picked up a cup of wine, raised it, but then put it down.
He does not drink.
Wine numbs the nerves.
And the foundation of a wise man's survival lies in maintaining a clear mind at all times.
There must be no slack, no negligence.
Even a slight negligence, and one's life could be lost.
"Diego Leopold was from my Caldwell Family, serving in a critical position in the library for many years. He slandered you, and I, as the Caldwell Family, apologize on his behalf."
Han Caldwell raised a glass of wine and drank it all in one go.
"I will investigate and certainly give you a satisfactory result. As for this marriage, today, in front of all the heroes of the world, I consent. I will choose a good day and auspicious time to hold a wedding for you."
Upon hearing this, Julius Reed remained unperturbed.
If it were an ordinary person, they would surely rise to express gratitude and feel deeply honored.
But now the impression given is more like Han Caldwell is humbly begging him to marry his granddaughter.
"I heard, Mr. Caldwell plans to split forces into three routes to battle Demarco Mount on the Dusty Platform." Julius Reed turned his head, asking leisurely.
This wasn't a secret.
Han Caldwell, in order to secure the position of the three-way commander for himself, had long released the news.
And this position had been tacitly approved by the martial artists of Boulevard for this Caldwell Family Head.
"That's right, I originally wanted to announce it to everyone later. What, do you have a problem?"
Even if he was annoyed, even if he was angry.
As the initiator of the alliance, Han Caldwell must maintain composure.
Patiently answering any questions related to the alliance.
"Of the three commands, I want one." Julius Reed picked up the wine jug in front of Brant Fairbanks, filled himself a glass, and tasted it meticulously.
All at once.
The audience erupted!
One of the three commands?
Isn't that too bold?
If truly sought, at least it should be Brant Fairbanks who has the qualification.
As a mere young master, even if he has unlimited potential, both experience and capability are insufficient to handle such a position.
"I only want one of the routes, no problem, right?"
Julius Reed placed his sword on the table, asking indifferently: "If there's an issue, then would the person raising the concern please step forward, and I'll personally deal with these issues."
"Indeed, Ocean Academy is determined to have it! West Tower is our future; today, I stand with him!"
Although Brant Fairbanks felt some surprise internally, but he was happy to strive for something that could balance against Han Caldwell and bring honor to the academy.
Upon saying this, martial artists looked at each other.
Han Caldwell's dominance was something everyone was unwilling to see.
Having someone to balance the Caldwell Family was the most favorable outcome.
Moreover, at this critical moment, who would dare stand out to offend Ocean Academy?
That would be akin to courting death.
"If there are no objections, please let the Lord give the order." Julius Reed smilingly looked at the bogus Lord, raising his wine cup.
"This..." The bogus Lord wouldn't dare make a decision?
He sneaked a glance at Han Caldwell, who, having received his nod, finally said, "Ocean Academy is strong and powerful, as it should be. Then West Tower, which of the three routes would you like to lead?"
"The East."
Julius Reed answered aloud.
The Eastern alliance, many were loyal to him.
They could reach the Dusty Platform as quickly as possible and join with Elaenor Wood.
"Okay, then I permit you." The bogus Lord's words had just landed when Tennyson Hawthorne ran into the Dark Moon Palace in a hurry, injuring several Undead Tribe warriors trying to stop him.