Last Day Of The Human, Dragon heart Series Book 20

4

With each strike, accompanied by the fierce will in his blue eyes, the mountain beneath him trembled, its ancient stones resonating with the song of his blade. As it froze and then shattered with a mighty swing, it rang with the echo of a northern storm, one that had absorbed all the fury and will of a man who had defied the gods. A streak of blue wind shot out within a ribbon of light, and then, somewhere off in the distance, a loud rumble filled the air. Near the horizon, one of the mountain peaks, sliced through cleaner than a garrote slices through a wheel of cheese, began to slide downward.

Hadjar exhaled and covered his eyes, calming the heart that threatened to burst from his chest and the rivers of Therna in his soul. “Analyze,” he ordered simply.

[Processing request. Processing…

Host: Hadjar Darkhan, Wind of the Northern Valleys.

Level and stage of development: The advanced stage of the Heaven Emperor level.

Bodily fortitude: Star artifact level.

Types of Therna the host possesses: the abstract units listed in the database as “Will,” “Heart,” and “Mind.”

Metaphysical Concepts the host possesses: the abstract unit listed in the database as the “True Name of the North.”]

Hadjar clenched and unclenched his fist. For the past one hundred and twenty years, he had spent most of his time training and meditating. Only once every few decades would they gather as a group to fulfill a wealthy patron’s request because they would be promised valuable artifacts and reagents that could be used for their own development in return. Or they’d gather to try their luck with a new quest, drawn in by rumors of a possible passage to the Northlands.

Truth be told, if not for the note Badur Pagered had left him on that day, the Mad General might have long since concluded that he’d simply been dreaming, that there had been no Northerner who was the son of Prince Starodub, and that it was all just a fantasy he’d concocted.

And yet there it was, the note. Hadjar unfolded the parchment once more and read the words.

“Breath of ice, do not be afraid, go forward boldly, my friend. I will be waiting for you on the other side of the border.”

For many years, the five of them had pondered these words. They had grasped at any straw that might lead to their goal, but it always turned out to be false, or another piece of the mosaic that would never fit together. They’d even tried to find their way back to the Calm Mountains School, but after the General’s visit, the inhabitants had apparently decided to isolate themselves from the outside world as much as possible, and were now impossible to find.

As a result, for the past twenty years, without giving in to despair, Hadjar had tried to make progress on his path of sword mastery. Knowing that there was a ‘Rule’ ahead of him, something that could completely encapsulate his... sword, was keeping him motivated, but he had never achieved much success.

The result of his endless training and countless battles within the illusory world of his neural network was that, since he’d defeated all other opponents, he now fought relentlessly against the most powerful opponent stored in his neural network’s database.

“Battle simulation analysis,” Hadjar requested, adding immediately, “in rounded percentages.”

He didn’t need to see numbers with more zeroes than could fit on a piece of parchment.

[Processing request. Processing…

Simulation: “Battle against the Entity known as Helmer.”

Wins: 0%.

Loses: 99.9999%.

Ties: Insignificant, tending towards 0%.]

Although he still didn’t know the full extent of the Lord of Nightmares’ power, he knew that he was a subordinate of the Demon Prince. And that was generally nothing to sneeze at, especially considering the fact that the Prince was one of the strongest beings in the Nameless World. He was on par with the Queens of the Fae, the Jasper Emperor, and the Master of Almost All Words, Ash. Unfortunately, Hadjar’s path would eventually lead him to clash with all of them — the five strongest entities of the Nameless World...

“What do you call that stance?” a familiar voice sounded behind him.

Hadjar turned and changed his training robe into his familiar blue one with flowing clouds and stars at its hem. Even Shakh, who had reached the zenith of his power, could not boast such light clothing. He had added several skins to his leather armor and had also wrapped himself in the fur of the Ice Bear that had nearly taken his eyes and had left him with some serious scars that stretched across his face from ear to ear.

Chapter 1734

And then there was the artificial nose that Arteus had conjured for him. It looked a bit amusing, but who needed beauty to impress cultivators? There wasn’t an adept among the people here who couldn’t spend hours examining their own nude body and pointing out various scars and wounds, and then telling stories about the border between mortals and the Northern Lands.

Hadjar turned to the distant peaks, one of which he had slashed with his sword. With that single attack, he had been able to subdue both Tarisfal and the one whose clone Tarisfal had turned out to be — he’d been the clone of the Master of the Raven Sect — in one of his neural network’s simulations.

At this point, his Sword of the Wind Path Technique had three forms, the same as a hundred years ago. The offensive Endless Wind, the counterattacking Headwind, and the defensive Monsoon.

And all in all, out of the dozens of Techniques he had practiced in this past century, half of them could’ve been included as forms, but...

“I don’t think that makes sense, my friend,” Hadjar shook his head. “Like the Techniques in general...”

“First of all, barbarian, I am not your friend,” Shakh grimaced, then sneezed and wiped his upper lip. He cursed in the language of the Sea of Sand and wrapped himself tighter in his furs. “Damn cold... and secondly... you better calm down with that Rule thing of yours. Just write your Technique down in an abbreviated form, then sell it to the Twilight Secrets Sect. I’m sure Ai will pay you a ton for it. We’ll buy a bunch of resources, break through to the peak stage, and try to pass the trial.”

Shakh had been one of the first to reach the Heaven Emperor level, but unfortunately, he’d gotten stuck in the middle stage and could not advance any further.

“I’m not going to stop you, shitskin,” the dwarf said as he trudged through the snow. “I have to get out of here.”