F-ranker Sword Saint: My Soulbound Sword is Secretly SSS-tier!-Chapter 224: Relic Hunt: The Sword (3)

Like all battles, this one also escalated.

The Relic-Hunting Cohort of Egress, with great difficulty, was able to whittle down Rocante’s hitpoints to half.

Daru himself wasn’t faring too well, though.

While he wasn’t cut a single time — quite expected given that a random cut would sever his limbs or even head — his body was in utter shambles.

His entire torso ached; his arms felt significantly heavier than usual, and his legs weren’t as reliable.

’Haha, what unfair strength!’ Daru mused, barely ducking a sweeping slash that almost took his head off.

He then twisted his grip and stabbed deeply into the hulking monstrosity’s gut.

Sharp, heavy, and apparently divine as his tachi was, it didn’t penetrate too deeply.

Daru was already used to how tough his adversary was, however, and so he quickly Swallow Stepped to the side, dodging an incoming attack and counterattacking another time before momentarily disengaging.

Variations of the same scene had played out more than four dozen times, yet they were still only halfway to bringing down Rocante.

The horror was truly worthy of his title of The Sword.

Unlike Saphoros and La Filosa, he gave Daru the fearsome battle he craved and Caleb the chance to finally prove himself in combat, though the SS-ranker seethed at the disrespect he was receiving from their foe.

His attacks were doing very little damage, too, which further intensified his boiling frustration.

Nonetheless, the battle only continued to rage.

Daru had warned his comrades to be careful.

However, they were all older and more experienced than he was, so his warning wasn’t really needed.

The three Damnedlings already knew that something was about to change...and for the worse.

Or not really?

Rocante still had the same mad grin on his face, and his gaze never left Daru.

Despite probably having a level four bleeding status active already, the wild yet steady pacing of his attacks never changed, either.

Eighteen thousand...Fifteen thousand...twelve...ten...

Soon, the hulking horror’s hitpoints hit the eight-thousand mark — the usual critical ten percent of boss-type Swordspawns.

They would usually reveal their hidden abilities at this crucial hitpoint threshold.

Yet, nothing changed.

Rocante kept on single-mindedly hunting down the same target like the dumb brute that he was.

It was then...when the seed of disappointment was budding in Daru’s heart, that something different happened.

And it happened way too fast.

The three Damnedlings kept reminding themselves not to grow complacent — that the battle was not over until a notification of their victory appeared.

Only, their minds and bodies weren’t in sync enough, and the three wretches learned it the hard way.

The hulking horror suddenly turned, sweeping his sword wildly yet accurately.

It was as though Rocante had been taking note of the three Damnedlings’ positioning and movement since the very beginning.

The bastard was acting and scheming all along.

The gigantic stone greatsword passed through the first Damnedling like a hot knife through butter.

The second was able to muster a hurried block, but Lesha was carried by the greatsword’s momentum, slamming her towards Caleb, and both of them were sent flying.

They were truly lucky that they didn’t crash into something solid, or their hitpoints would’ve been reduced to less than half.

Gris, on the other hand, wasn’t so fortunate. He died on the spot, cleaved in half.

The Serpentkin had perished just like that.

Daru was stunned and a bit shaken.

He had witnessed deaths before in the cemetery raids, but this was the first time someone memorable to him had fallen.

While Gris wasn’t the brightest and was quite loud, he was a brave and earnest soul.

Daru liked him.

But now, he was dead, never to walk, slither, think, or talk ever again.

He had succumbed to the unforgiving crucible of Limbo, slain by one of its guardians.

"GRIS!!" Roared Caleb in a mix of horror and sorrow.

He, too, had come to like the guy.

Lesha, on the other hand, ignored the casualty for now. It was not logical to grieve a fallen comrade while still in battle.

A few meters in front of them, Rocante began laughing eerily...in a glorious tone.

His sword had brought him triumph at last.

Soon after, a familiar black aura enveloped him, restoring a bit of health and mood.

Alarm bells rang in Daru’s head.

’Not good!’

Without hesitation, he jumped, turning into an azure sword and meteoring down on Rocante.

This was the second time he had used the strongest Sword Skill in his arsenal in this battle, and he planned to use it immediately whenever it came off cooldown.

[-2,800!]

[-1,640!]

He had learned the first time that it was unwise to use the skill directly on the hulking horror, as he wouldn’t be able to pierce through due to Rocante’s tough flesh, which, in turn, would prevent him from using the second part of the SS-tier skill.

So, this time, he tore through Rocante’s waist, then cut deeply into his arm with a horizontal blue crescent.

What he did was satisfyingly effective.

At least in terms of damage done, as his foe didn’t seem to be fazed by the horrifying damage.

In the next moment, the horror charged again, this time at Caleb, who seemed to be the most affected among them.

Was it a coincidence, or was Rocante not the dumb brute he portrayed himself to be?

"Caleb!" Daru called, swiftly pursuing.

His warning proved effective in snapping his comrade back to focus.

Ascalon gritted his teeth and rolled to the side, barely evading the slash that would’ve given him the chance to reunite with Gris early, wherever the Serpentkin was now.

Then he heard it...just barely as Rocante turned.

The horror clicked his tongue!

"Daru careful, this bastard’s sche–"

Unfortunately, his warning was drowned out by the clash of swords as Daru was thrown further away. His Tornado Slash was blocked, and the way he was hurled was quite dangerous.

He was free-falling from a height.

Below him, Rocante was rushing, waiting with a murderous, mad grin, as though Daru was meat tossed onto a chopping block.