Talented Martial Hero novel Chapter 668

It needed hardly be said that, of the four elders, the strongest one was the Chief Elder who had acquired seventy percent of the power of Fringe Holy Will.

The Chief Elder raced for Darren with the swiftness of a howling wind and struck him with both palms.

The mighty blow sent Darren hurtling like a meteor down toward the Sea of Sand and Fire.

Not satisfied, the Chief Elder snorted with contempt and followed him down.

He had no interest in playing fair or in prolonging the fight. If he could simply throw his victim into the sea of fire and incinerate him in an instant, that would satisfy him.

Without hesitation, the Chief Elder fell through the air with the speed of an arrow.

Despite the speed at which Darren was falling, his assailant nimbly caught up to him in a matter of seconds.

"That bastard," said one of the onlookers, dismayed. "Here's the greatest Chief Elder of the Dragon Chasing Sect, stooping to the level of killing an ordinary disciple!"

The others who were present agreed and murmured among themselves. The Chief Elder's conduct struck them as petty and unbecoming of a man of his station. "That young man is doomed, no matter he is in dragon form or not," another one remarked. "It's unfortunate for him that he had to cross paths with this merciless old freak."

Standing with the observers, Hobson watched the spectacle with a sinking heart. He hadn't expected the Chief Elder to attack with such lethal intent. 'Damn it! Darren doesn't stand a chance of surviving!' he thought ruefully to himself.

The knowledge of his own helplessness tormented him. He wasn't strong enough even to fly above the raging fire, let alone to help his friend. There was nothing to do but watch.

Just then the Chief Elder closed the distance between himself and Darren, slamming him with a blow even more terrible than the last one.

An awful lattice of chinks and cracks spread across the armor of Darren's dragon scales.

The air rang with his ear-splitting scream.

Desperately, he spun, lifting his tail to lash the Chief Elder right in the face.

There was no time to dodge. The strike hit the Chief Elder so hard that he blacked out for a brief moment and fell limply toward the awful fires below. With only seconds to spare, he recovered his wits and swooped away from the hazard.

Meanwhile, the rebound force of the tail strike had propelled Darren away, but he quickly swerved around and came at the Chief Elder again, picking up speed.

While still approaching, Darren intensified his dragon blood aura and his demonic internal force, pushing them to their limits.

The Chief Elder saw this, but was too haughty to notice the terrible black flame at Darren's command as well. 'His skills are insignificant, ' he thought to himself. With his seventy percent of the Fringe Holy Will, he thought he had nothing to be afraid of.

Thinking it was time to finish the duel for good, the Chief Elder concentrated all his power into a single palm strike and flung it at Darren as they crashed together.

All the spectators staggered as a thunderous boom smote their eardrums.

Their eyes, too, were dazzled by a terrific blaze as the Fringe Holy Will struck its target.

With the noise of the impact, however, there was another sound.

It was a terrible, blood-curdling scream.

"So much for that young man—poor thing!" bewailed one of the onlookers.

"Indeed," agreed another. "You don't see a dragon very often these days. But in any case, he's dead now. What a shame!"

The other disciples chattered much the same thing, for they all believed it was Darren who had made that scream.

Only Ivan was silent, standing among them with an ashen face and trembling lips. He alone recognized that the voice had been none other than the Chief Elder's!

Finally the light began to ebb, revealing a sight that took everyone's breath away. The dragon was still up there, looking unscathed and as invulnerable as ever. Before that fearsome form hovered the Chief Elder. They could barely recognize the man, however—he was scorched from head to foot like a hunk of meat. Gasping wretchedly, he rolled about in midair with his head in his hands.

After a few futile seconds of clinging to life, the man at last went stiff, fell, and vanished into the fire.

Darren watched dispassionately, temporarily preoccupied with his own thoughts. 'It seems the black flame loses some of its original potency after being transformed. Otherwise, the Chief Elder's soul would have been obliterated on impact.'

Meanwhile, the stunned silence continued to reign on the edge of the sea of fire.

Not in their wildest dreams had anyone there ever thought that Darren, an ordinary cultivator, could be so mighty as to kill the strongest elder of the Dragon Chasing Sect.

Ivan and the still-wounded Queena were more shocked than anyone, though, for they had watched with complete confidence that their Chief Elder would win.

After such a dramatic reversal as this, their chances of survival looked slim indeed.

As though to confirm all their fears, the very next thing they saw was a gust of black flame, surging out of Darren's dragon body and straight toward them.

With nowhere to hide, the two frantically summoned their Fringe Holy Will, perhaps hoping they had some slim chance of warding off the attack.

But the flames went through their defenses as easily as through air, roasting their flesh and burning their very souls away.

Before either could so much as scream, it was over. Nothing remained except an ashen black stain on the earth where they had stood.

"Hobson, let's go!" Darren shouted.

Transforming back to his normal body, he dropped to the ground.

Hobson gawked at him, still amazed at what had just happened. "My friend... I have no words! Your strength is unbelievable."