Tempest of the Battlefield - Chapter 422

Chapter 422: The Youngest Einherjar
Translator: Oneshotwonder Editor: Hitesh_

This sudden development unsettled Zhang Jin and rendered her at a loss. Should she feel happy for Patroclus’s comeback, or should she be afraid of what Patroclus would become? It was something she did not know. But, what she was sure of was that Patroclus was about to unleash a power that was unimaginable by mankind.

The audiences watched in horror as the blue sky took on a tinge of forlorn grayness. Einherjar Li Moshan knotted his face and was shocked by the development. A few seconds later, his concern and disbelief were shared by all audiences.

“Could it be…?”

Patroclus’ face had an eery tranquility that shattered all doubts about his capability. However elaborated they might have been, people’s presumptions were naïve, because one had ever truly understood Patroclus.

The Deva Lance stopped flickering and started to glow with a dazzling light as bursts of bright energy spilled out from within Patroclus.

There and then, the youngest Einherjar the world had ever seen was born.

The entire arena has succumbed to the brilliance of the perfect human, the real genius. Even the earthlings who were still drunken with pride for Wang Tong’s power suddenly quieted down and watched the development with disbelief.

The age of the youngest Einherjar had been forty, but Patroclus had reduced that number by more than half as he reached the Einherjar level when he was still under twenty! From then on, no one would ever doubt his power.

All the top fighters, including Li Shiming, Lie Jian, and Michaux had a hard time accepting reality. However, Zhang Jin sat quietly and was not the slightest surprised. But she did not feel joy in her heart either.

In contrast to the significant ramification of the development, Patroclus announced quietly, “I am now fighting at Einherjar Level. Just a heads up.”

Zhang Jin searched for words to describe the otherworldly expression on Patroclus’ face, but eventually, she conceded that an Einherjar’s expression was beyond the descriptive capability of words invented by the human.

Patroclus had proven to the world that all the presumptions about his power, about who he was, were completely bogus.

After three hundred years, the humans had forgotten that there had been two gods. Blade Warrior was not the only one, because there was also Rilangalos. Much like what had happened in the history, not only had the Blade Warrior found his heir, but also Rilangalos Dower.

Like the sun, Patroclus shed light and warmth into the hearts of the audiences. No one had expected to witness the birth of an Einherjar during a live-cast of the tournament.

After the dramatic turn of events, Patroclus had rightfully returned to the center of everyone’s attention, as public opinions started to favor him. Many people were convinced that with his transformation, he already had the victory in the bag.

He was the chosen one, the son of the god, and he would stop history from repeating itself.

The Ivantians were ecstatic; no one would ever doubt Patroclus’s authority, as he would be the strongest man in the world from then on. The next three centuries would belong to the Ivantians!

People were no longer certain about their prediction of the upshot as the tide took a 180-degree turn. How would Wang Tong fare against an Einherjar? How powerful exactly was an Einherjar anyways?

Patroclus opened up his sea of consciousness and welcomed the unseen forces in every molecule in the air. This was the unique ability of Einherjars as they were able to transform their body into a vehicle that could absorb enormous power from his surroundings.

“Deva Lance, CHARGE!” Patroclus shouted as a silver light slithered down from the sky at Wang Tong. Wang Tong hurried to safety and watched as the beam of light melted a hold on the floor. Before Wang Tong had time to gather himself, a web of silver lights rained down on him from above. There was nowhere to hide.

Although Patroclus had just become an Einherjar, his advantage was evident. His effortless ascension had made many levels six warriors’ faces green with envy. If the gods were fair and just, why would they grant power to one so easily while denying it to the others?

Even Patroclus’s Father, an Einherjar, and the leader of one of the greatest clans in the Confederation, felt that his son was destined for something much greater than him.

Not only was the Dower the perfect family, but they also had a unique family dynamics. Although Einherjar Andres was Patroclus’ father, he was no more a father than a servant to his son. Andres’s life purpose was to support his son until he claimed ownership of the entire world. So power-hungry were the Dowers that they would ignore and abandon any transitional values that hindered their expansion. Because of that, the Dower Family was always considered a bunch of queers.

Meanwhile, the other Einherjar, Lie Moshan, was deeply disturbed by the scene. He had high hopes for his son, even after his recent defeat. However, after seeing the power of Patroclus, all hopes were abandoned. Watching the power of a great house at full display, Lie Moshan realized that his family still had a long way to go.

As the swirl of energy danced about the silver lance, Wang Tong failed to evade the attack; Patroclus’s Einherjar-level attacks had gained an immeasurable vigor and frequency. To put Patroclus’s technique into simpler terms, he had transformed his entire body into GN force and unleashed it along with his attacks. The new technique, combined with the Ivantian’s superior soul energy, had totally overwhelmed Wang Tong.

The intense exchange of blows kept all audiences on the edge of their seats. Each movement was a near miss of a fatal blow for Wang Tong.

After five minutes of pounding and jabbing, Patroclus finally stopped the aggression. He hovered in the air and watched the pile of rubble beneath him; the last bout of attacks was merely an Einherjar’s warming-up.

“KOM!”

The pile of rubble exploded, sending a plume of dust into the air. From the dust emerged Wang Tong, covered in a golden shield. This was not the first time the audiences saw the golden shield, as Michaux had used it before.

“Did he just copy your ability?” Lie Jian asked.

“No, not really. His shield is much more powerful than mine, as it is formed using the primordial force in the earth. It seems that Wang Tong has improved a lot in just a few days.”

“Do you mean that Wang Tong actually has a chance of winning?” Lie Jian asked in disbelief. He had never heard any level six fighter defeat an Einherjar before.

“I say its fifty.”

Michaux understood the full extent of the power of the Soul Essence, and therefore knew that Wang Tong was not very far from becoming an Einherjar. One fact that even Michaux had to admit was that Wang Tong would never enter the state of Einherjar anytime soon; his power still needed to be mature over time. However, he wondered how much of the power Wang Tong could harness before he had the soul energy and cultivation level match with the soul essence.

Patroclus and Wang Tong each stood in one corner of the stage and locked each other’s gazes. They smiled at each other knowingly while admiration flickered in their eyes. Slowly, the smiles evaporated from their face like honeydew under the morning sun. From then on, they would unleash their ultimate power, and therefore, caution was called for both combatants.

Suddenly, the sky was scarred by a light that carried intense energy into the silver lance. Patroclus held the lance high up and attacked. However, Wang Tong didn’t move out of the harm’s way.

“KOM!”

Even as the tip of the lance gnawed a piece of flesh off of Wang Tong’s side, he stood still and did not move by even a hair’s width.

Only Lie Moshan and Andes nodded in approval since they knew that Patroclus and unleashed a technique called the “Einherjar’s Snare.” It would kill any moving creature in an instant.

After a couple of seconds, Wang Tong finally retaliated as the golden lance re-appeared in his hand.

“Fire Drake Swirl!” Wang Tong shouted as a thousand spikes pierced the ground under Patroclus’s feet.