The Annihilator: Killer Of Gods

Chapter 202 Killing Sages Like Chicken



Chapter 202 Killing Sages Like Chicken

The Ten Sages continued to look at Karsha with varied expressions: shock, pain, fury, fear—but above all, anger. In less than two minutes, Karsha had killed thousands.

These people were their subordinates, friends, and clan members, yet now only bones covered in dried flesh lay scattered on the ground.

The spectators were horrified; even the Four Great Sages looked on in shock at the carnage on the battlefield. Not a single drop of blood stained the ground.

All that remained were the lifeless, bony bodies of the thousands from the Bloodfiend Mercenary Clan.

"Fine, if you won't attack, I will," Karsha said, reaching to unsheath the sword which would unleash a dense, bloodthirsty aura that would have sealed the Sages allowing him to kill them easily.

However, just as his hand touched the hilt of the sword, his Soul weapon, the Enigma, vibrated within his soul sea.

Karsha didn't regard these Sages as worthy opponents. Compared to Morris, these Sages are nothing. Using such a dignified sword against them felt like overkill and arrogance. Yet, it seemed the sword thought otherwise.

Smiling, Karsha returned the sheathed sword to his inventory. With a sigh, he extended his hand, and a long purple sword appeared in his grip. The moment it materialized, several people hiding in the crowd widened their eyes, envy creeping across their faces.

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Even the Four Great Sages had the same look in their eyes. They recognized the sword as a soul weapon, and as always, anything connected to the soul was invaluable. They wanted the sword, but none dared to make a move—at least, not yet.

"Nice sword," Karsha muttered.

"I'll let you have some fun then," he said, gazing at the Ten Sages still hovering in the air, clearly stunned by the brutal murder of their subordinates right before them.

"Fire Beam." Karsha swung the sword, and instantly, a massive arc of fire shot forward, slicing through a 3-kilometer distance in seconds. The Ten Sages sprang into action, dashing to the ground. Karsha smiled, seeing them finally land.

"Die." A massive axe, about three meters long, fell from the sky as one of the Sages leaped into action.

"Tsk, too slow," Karsha muttered, standing still as the axe-wielder charged. If he wanted to, he could have killed the man three times over before he even closed the gap.

Boom.

The axe landed where Karsha stood, sending dust into the air. Karsha didn't dodge or attempt to evade; he simply raised his hand and blocked the axe.

"Weak," he muttered, and with a single swing, he cut the Sage in half.

Without waiting for the body to fall, Karsha dashed toward the next opponent, a swordsman like himself. Unlike the axe-wielder, this one was slightly faster, but even without using any movement technique or cultivation base, Karsha was several times quicker.

The swordsman's head shot into the air, blood spurting from the headless body. Instead of staining the ground, the blood was absorbed directly into Karsha's ring.

"What is happening?" one of the spectators asked.

"Who is this young man?" Instead of answering, another question rang out.

"Somebody tell me if I'm dreaming. Is he just a Grandmaster, or is he faking it? How can he kill Sages like he's cutting tomatoes?" another person said. But before anyone else could speak, another head flew into the air.

"This is madness. Who is this kid?" an elderly man standing with the guards at the city gate asked. He was a Sage himself, but watching Karsha effortlessly kill the Bloodfiend Sages made him break into a cold sweat.

"Since when did killing Sages become this easy?" one of the Four Great Sages asked.

"This kid is not simple. At his level, he shouldn't be able to take a single blow from a Sage, yet look at how he's killing them, and it's ten against one. This is madness."

The four sighed, but a glimmer of envy continued to shine in their eyes. They wanted Karsha's sword but were unwilling to admit it.

Oblivious to their thoughts, Karsha continued to cut down the Sages. Deep within his eyes, he looked disappointed. He wanted a fight, but the strength the Sages were displaying felt like a joke. 'Are humans that weak, or am I just too powerful?' Karsha wondered.

After killing the axe-wielder and the swordsman, he dispatched another swordsman and an archer, but the others still couldn't track his speed. The archer hadn't even managed to shoot an arrow before he died.

Karsha's speed was simply too fast for the Sages. In less than a minute, four Sages had fallen. These were individuals many feared; they were monsters whom people ran from, allowing their clansmen to roam freely and commit all sorts of unethical acts.

"This is boring. You six, come at me together," Karsha said, stepping 100 meters away from the six remaining Sages and gesturing for them to come at him.

Four swordsmen and two spearmen charged at Karsha with all their energy. They didn't care if people ridiculed them for ganging up on a kid; right now, all they wanted was to cut off his head for killing their clansmen. They disregarded the insults they would receive afterward.

"Slow." Karsha stepped sideways, evading three sword strikes and parrying two more. Using the momentum from his parry, he slashed his sword at the spearmen, who were a little slower.

They blocked the attack, but the force behind it sent them hurling through the air. They coughed up blood but didn't back down.

Karsha smirked and then stomped on the ground. A boulder made of stone shot up, slamming into the two spearmen.

He punched forward, striking a swordsman in the face. The man lost his balance, but before he could hit the ground, Karsha slashed his sword, cutting his head off.

The blood from the body was instantly extracted, leaving only bones and a thin layer of skin. Karsha was surprised at how quickly the ring could extract blood.

Since he had formed a soul contract with it, it knew when to extract and when not to. At this moment, Karsha was all about the blood, so not a single drop was wasted.

Thud.

Another head fell, leaving two swordsmen and two heavily injured spearmen.

"Do you guys want to continue, or should we take a break and continue later?" Karsha asked sarcastically. Despite being stared at by thousands of people, his focus never wavered.

"Anyone who helps us kill this brat will be awarded 1,000,000 spirit stones," a peak Sage, possibly the leader of the Bloodfiends, declared. Immediately, some people reached for their weapons.

A million spirit stones was a fortune; many would kill for that amount. Being offered such a sum to kill a Grandmaster expert seemed like an easy way to make money.

Human greed is something that common sense cannot easily overcome. Despite witnessing Karsha's dominance on the battlefield, they still felt compelled to take the risk for a million spirit stones.

"If you want to die, then come at me," Karsha said in a cold, icy tone, followed by a single swing that severed another head.

"Tsk, this is boring. You two can all die now." Karsha stomped hard on the ground, and in an instant, five-meter-tall ice spikes shot up, impaling the two spearmen.

The spikes rose into the air, lifting the two bodies up. Those who were ready to join the battle instantly broke into a cold sweat. The two bodies wore expressions of shock before death, and as their blood was sucked out, leaving only their corpses, the shock on their faces turned into horror.

All those who had plans to sneak attack and hope for the best quickly abandoned the idea. Karsha was just too terrifying.

"You brought this on yourselves. You could have formed a clan that sought to help the weak and acted with principles, but instead, you created a clan full of rapists and thugs. This is all on you. In your next life, learn to live a good life and do the right thing."

Karsha blinked away, and when he reappeared, heads came rolling down. He didn't even glance at them before turning to face the crowd.

"This should be a lesson to all your clans. Your clans shouldn't be organizations full of bandits preying on the weak and vulnerable. What befell them could easily befall you, so consider this. You never know when your day will come."

Despite delivering those words in a calm tone, all the clans watching shuddered, their backs breaking into a cold sweat. They understood his message, and witnessing how effortlessly he had killed thousands of Bloodfiends sent shivers through their hearts.

"Who are you, and what did these people do to you that justifies killing them so brutally? Kneel down and let the guards take you in for questioning!" At once, four figures appeared, bringing with them a heavy pressure that instantly pressed down on everyone around. Most who managed to withstand the pressure recognized them immediately.

"The four family heads," a young man muttered, but despite the quietness of his words, they reached almost everyone's ears.

"This kid is fried," another young man remarked. Looking at him, Karsha could tell he was similar to Vance—an arrogant weakling.

"Tsk, you four are just shameless. If you wanted my sword, you could have just asked. Why play these stupid games with me? Do you know, I easily crush you four without lifting a finger? This should be your last time doing something so foolish in front of me. Next time, don't blame me if I break a few bones.

Bunch of idiots." Karsha's words struck like lightning, turning the faces of the four family heads green with rage.

Boom.

A dense aura crashed down on Karsha. The aura was heavy, carrying a mountainous pressure that could break every bone in the body. Though the pressure wasn't directed at the spectators, some turned pale, their bones trembling.

"Tsk, a bunch of weaklings. I'll leave today, but next time won't be so peaceful. Bye, losers!" Karsha fell back into his shadow and disappeared, leaving behind headless, baggy bodies, shocked spectators, and four furious Great Sages.


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