Floating Island - Triple S Talent - Chapter 565

Chapter 565: Facing a King with a Treasure in Hand
Lein moved first.

He didn’t leave room for those noble-style power displays—empty rituals wrapped in polite words to disguise bloodthirsty intent. If they truly had what it took to capture him, they would’ve done it already. Not waste time spewing theatrics like some holiday marketplace magician.

From within his spatial ring, Lein drew an artifact: the Indigo Dimensional Fan.

A surge of deep blue light erupted from his palm. It was blinding, forcing the two men before him to instinctively reinforce their defenses. The space between them warped, trembling like soaked fabric torn by force.

FWOOSH!

Spatial wind roared out.

Rinzek was yanked backward—his body flung like a puppet with its strings cut. He reached out, trying to grab Silus, who still stood calmly in place.

“Captain!” he shouted.

But Silus didn’t move. His eyes remained calm as he watched Rinzek get pulled away, encased in a transparent barrier and launched dozens of meters from both Lein and Silus.

A forced battlefield dimension split. Effective. But not permanent.

“You think this will separate us? Pointless!” Rinzek growled from afar. Aura surged from his body. Glowing symbols began to appear—floating in circles around him, forming what looked like an invisible altar in midair.

White-gold light coated his form, giving him the appearance of a descending War God come to claim blood.

Lein narrowed his eyes slightly, one brow lifting. “A King-level Faithwarden?” he murmured, half intrigued, half amused.

Not only physically powerful, Faithwardens were warriors of conviction. So long as their belief didn’t waver, divine energy would flow without end—resisting illusions, nullifying emotional manipulation, silencing hesitation.

But that—was also the opening.

Lein didn’t wait.

Two Soul Beasts erupted from his back. The Red Ape, a towering beast wreathed in burning chains; and the Shadow Wolf, its form nearly invisible except for the subtle distortions it caused in the air.

Without command, both charged. The ape came from the front. The wolf slithered in from the left.

CLANG!

Rinzek’s doctrinal spear intercepted the Red Ape’s strike. The clash echoed like a giant bell struck within a sacred temple, sending waves of spiritual pressure rolling across the battlefield.

But the Shadow Wolf had already moved into position—circling into formation.

SHIIIK—

Behind Lein, another artifact materialized: the Moksha Fractured Mirror. Its surface shimmered with strange, imperfect reflections. Thin cracks spiderwebbed across the glass, capturing the ripple of Rinzek’s spiritual signature—and reflected it back.

Not as a direct strike. But as a vision of inner collapse.

Rinzek jolted.

His stance faltered. His eyes widened. Before him, he saw himself—not in triumph, but in ruin.

His body engulfed in flames. His spear shattered. His gaze empty.

And Silus…

Silus stood with his back turned. Not looking back. Not waiting. Just walking away, fading into mist.

“No… That’s not real… it’s not—”

Rinzek’s voice cracked. Like a child begging the world not to be true.

And that’s when—Lein struck.

Three glints of light shot out from beneath his sleeve.

Golden Spirit-Threaded Needles. Micro weapons invisible to the untrained eye. Not meant for open battle—only for precision kills.

TING.

Rinzek’s left eye exploded.

His body convulsed.

His spear slipped from his grasp.

His mouth fell open—no sound escaped.

Lein was already gone from where he’d stood.

ZRAAAK.

Two flashes crossed from opposite directions.

The Golden Sword and the Black Sword—light from the heavens and shadow from hell—sliced through Rinzek’s body in a massive X.

From shoulder to waist.

From hip to knee.

It all happened in the space of a single breath.

Rinzek’s body froze. Then cracked. Then collapsed—scattering into spiritual dust, vanishing into the void.

No scream. No regret. No mercy.

Only death.

Lein stood at the edge of the floating platform, his cloak billowing behind him. His gaze pierced the silence, locking onto the only person who had yet to move.

Silus.

From afar, the man watched his comrade die. He didn’t scream. He didn’t rage. He didn’t spit empty threats. Just a slow breath—barely audible. But something shifted in his gaze.

The measured, calm glint in Silus’s eyes turned cold.

Sharp.

Bare.

No more patience. No more games.

Then—he moved.

Short-range teleportation. Spatial distortion. Precision repositioning.

Silus moved like a phantom through miniature dimensions he conjured on the fly, transforming the battlefield into a three-dimensional maze—layered with shifting fissures, spatial traps, and warped zones that changed by the second.

Lein didn’t panic.

He stood calmly in the center of the spiraling chaos, eyes razor-sharp as he tracked each ripple of spatial fluctuation that brushed against the air.

Silus was far more dangerous than Rinzek.

Not because of raw power, but because of his mastery over spatial law—precise, perfect, terrifying.

And when Silus finally spoke, his voice was cold.

Almost lifeless.

“You already know, don’t you?” he asked. “There’s a bounty on your head. Issued directly from the upper factions of the Hunter Association.”

He stepped lightly onto a floating platform, spatial energy curling around him like a fine, translucent net.

“We’re no longer interested in taking you alive.”

“We just want to erase you from the board.”

Lein said nothing.

But his mind moved fast.

From beneath his cloak, he activated the Aetheris Long-Range Lens—a rune-embedded lens directly linked to his right eye. A quick flash of blue shot across his vision, and in an instant, data streamed in:

Silus’s spatial fluctuation cycle appeared every 4.7 seconds—brief, but enough to expose an opening.

The attack came without warning.

Silus locked him inside a sealed dimensional cube—a compressed pressure field collapsing from every direction. Sound vanished. Color drained. The world turned pitch black, suffocating, as though air itself no longer existed.

Several of Lein’s soul beasts lost contact. The spatial wall was too dense for spirits to pass through.

Still, he remained composed.

Click.

A small artifact, no larger than a finger, dropped from his cloak: a Miniature Sky Pillar—a spatial law disruptor designed to crack dimensional integrity within a limited radius.

CRAAKK.

The surrounding space shattered.

The box collapsed in an instant.

Lein vanished—then reappeared behind Silus, sword raised.

The strike swept toward his neck, clean and fast, but—

WHUUUM.

The blade was deflected by the Zhafir Wind Shield—a spiraling defense layer that bent incoming force and neutralized almost every linear strike.

The fight shifted into a close-range duel.

Teleportation flickered at breakneck speed. Blades slashed. Space twisted. Time stuttered. One misstep meant death. And Silus danced on that edge without fear—like a man walking a blade.

But Lein began to see the pattern.

Silus was using a spatial time-blocking system. His movements ran on fixed intervals—a formula that could be tracked, learned.

And Lein had the countermeasure.

From within his spatial ring, he drew a small, translucent gray crystal: a Time-Straightening Stone.

Single-use.

One activation.

When triggered, it stabilized time around the user for three seconds—canceling out spatial interference and halting external distortions.

Click.

Time fell silent—

And Lein moved within that perfect stillness.

Silus faltered.

His sequence froze in mid-loop, too sluggish to correct the path.

A fatal opening.

From the side, two blades—Gold and Black—slashed in a deadly cross, cleaving downward with no resistance.

But that wasn’t the end.

Lein raised his gaze to the void above.

“Come.”

A pale blue glow emerged from a hidden dimension overhead, descending like a freezing gust of death.

The Arctic Milenia Spear—

A Glacial God-Level weapon he had kept sealed all this time.

Hidden. Reserved for absolute execution.

BRUAAAK.

The spear pierced through half of Silus’s torso. In an instant, spiritual frost spread like wildfire, freezing his energy structure from within—locking every spatial law system in place.

Silus lifted his gaze. His eyes were glazed with frost. His body no longer trembled.

Lein stepped forward. Calm. Expressionless.

One clean slash—