Reincarnation Of The Legendary Sword Saint-Chapter 54: Sacred Strike

Without slowing, he ran across their heads, step, step, step, using their bodies as footholds.

"I don’t have time for this."

The men behind him barely had time to react.

"What the hell?!"

"He’s just a kid!"

"What is a kid doing here?!"

They turned to strike.

Rowan swung.

A blue energy burst from his sword, erupting into blue flames that engulfed the staircase.

Their screams echoed behind him.

Rowan didn’t look back.

He kept running.

Upward.

Then he reached a massive chamber.

His eyes locked onto her.

"Elian."

She was bound, arms and legs restrained.

Two fully armored warriors stood nearby.

And then Rowan saw him.

Moonbeam.

A long cape draped over his shoulders. One arm twisted into demonic flesh. Half of his face was no longer human.

Three sorcerers stood behind him.

Rowan’s gaze hardened.

So this is where you brought her.

The chamber glowed blue.

Parts of the walls shimmered with a blend of blue and purple, as if the entire space had been carved from crystal itself. Mana pulsed through the air, thick and heavy.

"Elian—"

She saw him. Her eyes widened in panic.

"Master Rowan—Rowan, stay back!" she shouted.

Rowan’s gaze softened as it met hers.

"Don’t worry," he said calmly, stepping forward. "I came here just for you."

Moonbeam frowned. Something felt wrong.

"What about the warriors I stationed outside?" he muttered. "Did you check? Have they fallen?"

He turned to one of the sorcerers. The man slowly shook his head.

Moonbeam’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Rowan—the bloodstained sword, the calm posture, the pressure rolling off his body.

"...They fell to a child?" Moonbeam scoffed. "Absurd. What is a child doing here? Did someone bring their son to die?"

Then he felt it. That pressure.

A kid... with this kind of presence?

Could he be the one who killed them?

"Well," Moonbeam said coldly, "it doesn’t matter. Sorcerers, capture him. His mana is excellent. If you can restrain him, bring him to me."

His lips curled into a cruel smile.

"I’ve been searching for a proper vessel. I’ll use both her and this one for the sacrifice... and finally become a true demon."

Rowan’s eyes darkened.

"You dare speak down to me?" he said. "Absurd."

Moonbeam studied him closely.

"This child... he’s overflowing with energy."

The three sorcerers stepped forward, staffs slamming into the ground.

A massive magic circle flared beneath Rowan’s feet, intricate runes igniting in burning pink light.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Rowan leapt forward before the spell could fully activate.

A fireball shot toward him.

He swung. The fireball split cleanly in two.

In the same instant, Rowan closed the distance. He jumped. His blade drove straight into the first sorcerer’s forehead. The body dropped.

Rowan was already moving. The second sorcerer fired nonstop, panic flooding his face.

Rowan weaved through the flames, vanished from sight, and appeared in front of him.

Slash. The sorcerer’s neck was severed.

The third sorcerer stumbled backward, eyes wide with terror.

"What the hell?! How is a kid this strong?!"

He steadied himself, rage replacing fear.

"You dare challenge me? I am no pipsqueak like them!"

He slammed his staff down.

"Arise, living stone! Living rock, come to life!"

The ground trembled.

A massive pile of stone twisted and reshaped itself, forming a towering golem.

Rowan exhaled.

"Turning stone into a golem... impressive," he admitted. "No wonder you could cast a long-distance spell without even seeing your target, even if it was weak."

The golem charged. Its massive fist came down.

Rowan raised his sword. The impact thundered through the chamber. The blade sliced clean through the golem’s arm.

Rowan surged forward, leaping high. His knee smashed into the golem’s chest.

Crack. The core shattered. The entire construct collapsed into lifeless rubble.

Silence.

Moonbeam’s eyes widened.

"...He defeated it like it was nothing."

The sorcerer staggered back.

"I—I’m not finished!"

Rowan didn’t wait.

"I’m not going to stand around while you summon more trash."

He closed the gap and split the sorcerer’s head in two. The body fell. Dead.

Two armored figures stepped forward. Paladin knights.

Moonbeam’s expression shifted—from shock to amusement. Then he laughed.

"Interesting," Moonbeam said. "There’s no way you’re just a child. You’re something else entirely."

Elian stared in disbelief. She had always known Rowan was powerful. But this...

This was different. Using a sword so naturally... defeating a golem with ease...

Her breath caught.

Rowan...

Moonbeam laughed coldly.

"No matter how powerful you are, you managed to defeat a few sorcerers," he said. "But don’t fool yourself. There is no world where you defeat Paladin Knights."

He took a step forward, his demonic arm twitching slightly.

"Those who receive the blessing of a paladin stand among the highest-ranked knights in existence. Strength, speed, endurance, far beyond ordinary warriors."

His eyes narrowed.

"And you think a mere child like you could defeat them? Even if you’re not truly a child... whatever you are, I’ll find out soon enough."

Rowan tightened his grip on his sword.

"Well," he said calmly, "after I take their heads, you’re next."

Moonbeam’s smile widened.

"Very well." He raised a single finger.

"Kill him."

The two Paladin Knights moved instantly. A thunderous clang echoed through the chamber as both swords were drawn at once. In the blink of an eye, they vanished and reappeared in front of Rowan, blades slashing down with terrifying speed.

Rowan twisted aside, narrowly avoiding the first strike. The second followed immediately.

Clang! Rowan blocked it, sliding back slightly.

The paladins pressed forward together now. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, attacking from opposite angles, leaving no room to breathe.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Rowan didn’t retreat. He stood his ground. Only his right hand moved. His left arm remained relaxed at his side as his blade intercepted every strike—precise, efficient, minimal.

Then Rowan closed his eyes.

I don’t need sight. I can hear it. The scrape of armor, the shift of weight, the whistle of steel slicing the air. Following the sound is enough.

As he parried, realization struck him.

So that’s why knights weren’t classified under sword blessings...