Chapter 825: PAID

Childhood Friend of the ZenithWords: 2144

BANG—! THUD, THUD—!

The lodging prepared for the Azure Dragon Division at the branch headquarters—inside, the training hall rang with violent echoes.

Whoosh—!

At the sound, I turned my head. The tip of a sword grazed my cheek.

I took a step forward, lowering my upper body. Another sword sliced through the spot I had just occupied.

I threw a punch into empty air. As if it had been lying in wait, a blade aura came flying toward me, only to shatter as it met my fist.

Despite the short exchange, relentless attacks kept pouring in, and my body moved ceaselessly in response.

Rolling my eyes, I lightly expanded my senses. Murderous intent flared from all directions.

Twisting my waist slightly, I wrapped my arm in Qi.

‘One first.’

I shifted my gaze—not to the closest one, but to the farthest.

Pushing off with my foot, I picked up speed.

“…!”

I reached my target in an instant.

He looked momentarily startled—

“Tsk!”

—but quickly adjusted his grip, shifting his stance from offense to defense.

I smirked.

Smart.

Rather than struggling in vain, he was trying to minimize the damage.

But—

‘For a defensive stance, his form’s lacking.’

He’d focused too much on offense during training. His posture was crude—no, calling it crude wasn’t quite right.

‘At least, not by ordinary standards.’

‘But to me, it is.’

As an opponent? That’s how it looked.

THUD—!

“Ugh!?”

My fist struck his solar plexus in an instant.

Landing the blow wasn’t difficult. Like I said—his stance was full of holes for someone at his level.

The Qi surrounding my fist crushed his protective aura and pierced straight through.

“Cough…!”

The man who took my punch—one of the Ten Battle Swords—collapsed, gagging on the floor.

His pale face briefly caught my eye, but now wasn’t the time for sympathy.

I immediately turned away.

An attack had already arrived behind me.

This time, it was a punch—a massive one.

The compressed Qi surrounding it was thick. Blocking it carelessly would hurt.

Should I dodge? Or counter?

The thought barely lingered.

CRASH—!

My smaller fist collided with the larger one.