Chapter 774: Mountain Gods Valley
The man standing there now bore two sharply defined peaks on his insignia, signaling that he was a 2-star genius of Mountain Gods Valley—and judging by the weight of the aura pouring off his body like a tidal wave, Max instantly knew he stood at the peak of the Champion Rank, a powerful figure not to be underestimated.
Max’s gaze flickered back to the two wounded figures. Whoever they were, they had provoked the wrath of Mountain Gods Valley—or perhaps stumbled upon something they shouldn’t have.
Either way, the bloody encounter unfolding before Max’s eyes was yet another vivid reminder that in the Hundred Battle Regions, death could come from any direction, without warning—and that every secret, every rumor, and every treasure was a spark waiting to ignite deadly conflict.
Perched silently atop a thick, moss-covered branch high in the canopy of an ancient tree, Max watched the scene unfolding below with a careful, calculating gaze, the green leaves rustling gently around him in the mountain breeze.
On the stony ground stood a young man clad in a silver robe that gleamed like polished metal beneath the fractured shafts of sunlight filtering through the treetops. His expression was twisted into a mask of cold fury, and a sharp, killing intent radiated off him in oppressive waves.
His hand gripped the hilt of a sword that was half-drawn from its scabbard, the blade reflecting glints of steel-blue light as he pointed it accusingly at the pair sprawled a few steps away, injured and gasping for breath.
"Rose Hensir, Gayle Hansir—you two can’t run away," the silver-robed youth snarled, his voice slicing through the valley like a blade. "I, Brian, will not return until blood is spilled."
Max’s eyes shifted to the two siblings, Rose and Gayle, who were struggling to sit up, leaning heavily on each other for support. Blood stained their lips and robes, and their skin glistened with an unhealthy pallor, veins faintly darkened beneath the surface—a clear sign of poisoning.
Gayle’s eyes, though clouded with pain, still burned with defiance. He clenched his jaw and shouted hoarsely, "Brian, if you hadn’t poisoned me, do you think I, Gayle, would be afraid of you?" His words trembled with rage and bitterness.
Gayle’s mana aura, though visibly weakened, still carried the traces of someone who stood on equal footing with Brian under normal circumstances. But the poison, Max could tell, was eating away at his strength from the inside, turning every movement into agony.
Brian laughed—a chilling, brittle sound that cracked like ice breaking. "Haha, the winner is the king and the loser is the bandit. What’s the point of saying this now?"
Max, concealed high above in the swaying branches, felt a faint frown tighten his brow. He remained crouched like a panther, his Three Dimensional Body registering every breath, every heartbeat below.