Published at 23rd of October 2026 9:46 am

Chapter 2132: Whip and Blade

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Adam sat on a wooden crate, the Viper, in its blade form, resting on his knees.

He wiped the blood stains from the blade. The blade was over a meter long, and the hilt almost the size of his forearm.

As he absentmindedly cleaned the blade, he thought back to a time during his youth when he had been completely averse to wielding swords.

His reasoning had been simple - a sword would interfere with his hand seals.

Adam had always been against using weapons in general. Why rely on a tool when his own body was more than enough? This was, after all, the philosophy of the Astral Tyrant Manual.

Then he had found the Staff of Calamity—a weapon that could magically return to him, expand to support the heavens, and contract to the size of a toothpick.

And then he had lost it.

After that, Adam had never thought he would wield another weapon. He had believed that his hands were enough. Looking back, perhaps that had been nothing more than arrogance.

He had always prided himself on being versatile. He could cast spells, shape the battlefield, summon a serpentine army, and use countless techniques that his opponents could barely comprehend.

Yet somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself that relying on a weapon meant admitting that his own abilities were insufficient.

Hannibal had slowly beaten that notion out of him.

After learning the ways of the whip and the blade, Adam finally understood why the sword had become the preferred weapon of the vast majority of Paladins.

It was the king of weapons. A sword could clash and stab and parry and block. It could threaten an opponent while remaining quick enough to fight in close quarters. It was light enough to move with the body, versatile enough to adapt to different enemies, and simple enough that mastery could be pushed to frightening extremes.

There was no single thing a sword did better than every other weapon. That was precisely why it was so good. It could do almost everything. And Adam finally understood why that mattered.

A Paladin did not always know what kind of enemy he would face. He might encounter armor, flesh, claws, shields, monsters, Magi, or another swordsman. He might need to attack, defend, retreat, counter, or kill in the space of a single breath.

The sword could accommodate all of it. Especially one that could transform into a whip.

More importantly, Adam had learned that a weapon did not have to replace his magic. It could complement it. And the Viper’s ability to near-instantaneously transform into a tattoo and slither back into his flesh allowed him to switch between weapon and spells fluidly.

Hannibal had fought countless battles throughout his long life and, over the years, perfected a unique fighting style centered around the whip-blade.

The first time, Adam had thought the weapon ridiculous.

The second time, he had wondered how anyone could possibly fight with it.

After training under Hannibal for almost a decade, he finally understood. The weapon itself was unusual, but it was Hannibal’s mastery of it that made it truly terrifying.

Very few people in the worlds knew how to counter his technique—and they were his students.

One moment, the weapon was a rigid blade, striking with the precision and lethality of a sword. The next, it became a flexible whip, its trajectory changing in ways that were almost impossible to predict.

Adam learned that the true strength of the technique lay in that transition.

An opponent might prepare to parry a sword thrust, only for the weapon to suddenly bend around their guard. They could retreat from the blade, only to find the whip following them. They could attempt to close the distance, only for the whip to transform again and meet them with a sharp blade.

There was no rhythm to memorize. No comfortable distance. Adam had experienced that frustration himself during training.

He had lost count of how many times he thought he had finally figured out Hannibal’s movements, only to discover that what looked like an opening had been deliberately created.

Hannibal had spent a lifetime refining that deception. And Adam had come to realize that this was what made his teacher’s fighting style so extraordinary.

He wasn’t simply switching between a whip and a blade. He was forcing his opponent to constantly rethink what the weapon in front of them could do.

Hannibal’s fighting style was like a river. Calm and fluid one moment, violent and raging the next. His footwork followed the same philosophy, constantly flowing around an opponent rather than meeting their strength head-on.

Adam had learned through countless painful lessons that resisting the current only made things worse. Hannibal would redirect his force, alter his angle, and flow into another attack before Adam could recover.

The essence of the style was adaptation.

A river did not stop because something stood in its path. It simply found another route. That was how Hannibal fought. He remained in motion, allowing his whip-blade, body, and footwork to transition seamlessly between offense and defense.

When the opportunity appeared, the calm river suddenly became a raging torrent, overwhelming the opponent before they could adjust.

Hannibal had once told Adam that there was only so much the Flowing River could be understood and improved through training.

To truly comprehend the fighting style and make it his own, he had to fight. Constantly.

A single exchange, with the clash of blades and the threat of death hanging over every movement, could teach a warrior more than a hundred days of practice on the training field.

And that was why, in the past three months, Adam had raided almost a dozen safehouses and forest camps belonging to the Iron Covenant.

He moved through their bases like a bloodthirsty river, cutting down men who stood in his path and leaving death in his wake.

With every battle, he understood the Flowing River a little more.

It’s a pity I couldn’t find the man these mercenaries reported to, Adam thought to himself.

In the past couple of months, he had killed almost forty Templar Paladins. He had lost count of the number of weaker enemies he had slain. He had asked them about the location of their leader, but every one had a different answer.

He realized that it was going to be difficult to find their leader. That it would be difficult to truly face resistance while fighting.

Surrounded by dozens of corpses, and blood making rivulets on the ground, Adam sighed helplessly.

I suppose it’s time to return to Davos, he thought to himself.

In less than the blink of an eye, the Viper disappeared, transforming into a lifelike tattoo.

The next moment, Adam’s figure vanished.

It was time to meet Michael.

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