Chapter 786: Naive thought
"I see," Max murmured, nodding almost absently, his eyes glinting with a sudden, ruthless light as a faint, chilling smile curled his lips. Slowly, his gaze swept around the room, pausing on each face one by one—the wide-eyed bystanders, the watching geniuses, the silent June, the cold Derek, the sneering Scott, even Omar who stood there trembling with fury. Yet not a single person made a move, not one stepped forward to halt what was about to happen.
And as the realization solidified in Max’s chest, a sharp laugh broke from him—low and mirthless. ’I think too much,’ he thought, bitterness cutting through his amusement like glass. ’To think they would want to stand up for a random kid in the 6th level of Master Rank.’
He shook his head faintly, the cruel curve of his smile deepening as he clenched his fist, the air around him suddenly warping ever so slightly, like heat haze rising from burning sand.
"What are you laughing at?" Julio snapped, his brows drawn together, sparks leaping from his fingertips as the charged scent of ozone filled the air.
Max tilted his chin slightly, his eyes flashing with cold contempt, his voice slicing through the room like a blade. "Trash, come and bite me!"
Gasps rippled among the crowd at Max’s open provocation. Scott’s eyes narrowed to slits, and Derek’s lips curled into a delighted, vicious grin. Omar looked like he was about to explode.
"Die!" Julio roared, his fury igniting like an oil fire. Without another word, he lunged forward, his sword whipping in a vicious arc. Beams of searing purple lightning exploded outward from his blade, streaking toward Max with a roar, scorching tables and cracking wooden beams in their path as they tore through the air like lightning serpents.
But Max didn’t flinch. Calmly, he rose from his table, his cloak rustling around him as he drew the Blue Dragon Sword in a single fluid motion, the blade humming with a high, crystalline resonance. His eyes flashed, and with a swift flick of his wrist, he slashed forward, unleashing the Severing Flow Sword Art.
A brilliant sword arc shot from his blade, gleaming like polished silver and laced with deadly precision. It collided with Julio’s lightning beams head-on—and instantly, the seething streams of purple energy shattered into fragments of harmless sparks, dissipating into the air like dying fireflies. The crowd gasped as silence crashed back over the floor, the air still tingling with residual energy.
"He blocked the attack," Frank murmured under his breath, his brows pulling together as he stared at Max as though seeing him for the first time. He’d assumed the young man was all bluff and arrogance, but that single, crisp sword strike had cut through the Champion Rank lightning beams as if they were nothing.
"I guess Julio must have gone easy on him, seeing his strength," Scott scoffed, though his voice lacked conviction. His sharp eyes flicked between Max and Julio, unease flashing behind his cold facade. He simply refused to believe a 6th-level Master Rank genius could parry an attack from someone standing at the peak of the Champion Rank.
"Haha, either that or Thunder Monarch Hall is truly trash," Derek sneered loudly, unable to contain his delight. His voice carried across the silent room, dripping with scorn. He was clearly savoring every opportunity to humiliate the Thunder Monarch Hall, his eyes glittering maliciously.