Chapter 133: Shocking the Entire Audience (Part Two)

"This is truly astonishing!" Ian stared coldly at Guo Lang, who stood not far away radiating an icy aura.

The situation before him was riddled with absurdities. He had arrived by flight and had been on the ground for less than ten minutes, yet his opponent had already caught up. Setting aside the opponent's speed and endurance, the tracking ability alone was breathtaking.

Most importantly, there was the opponent’s temperament. As a mage with high mental prowess, Ian noticed the change in Guo Lang’s demeanor almost instantly. If not for the identical clothes and the wound on his chest, he would never have believed this was the same person, despite the identical face.

He glanced back at the conference room. There was no sound from within, but he caught a faint scent of blood. Ian’s brow furrowed deeply. It wasn’t just the loss of the research staff that bothered him, but the man’s ruthless, unhesitating methods. He clearly remembered that one of the researchers in the team was pregnant!

From his initial analysis, he had never felt this man was cold-blooded. Based on his behavior and mannerisms, he did not seem like someone capable of killing a pregnant woman in cold blood. This meant that in less than half an hour, the man had completely transformed.

"Schizophrenia?" Ian muttered with a mocking smile. "What a cliché plot!"

Guo Lang stared at him expressionlessly. Suddenly, a Shadow Cloak identical to the one Ian wore manifested on him. The smile on Ian’s face stiffened. Was this not his own spell? Although he sensed it was imperfect and structurally unstable, it was already enough to immunize the wearer against the surrounding dark matter energy!

A sense of immense crisis washed over Ian. However, his opponent gave him no time to react. In the next second, he appeared before Ian, a pitch-black dagger plunging directly into his chest.

Green light flashed in Ian’s eyes as he stared fixedly at the blade. A layer of dark-colored armor had manifested over his chest. The opponent’s strike was highly concentrated; his Silver-tier defensive spell energy had been depleted by nearly half in a single blow, and the shadowy armor was visibly cracking!

*Hiss!* Suddenly, countless beast-like roars erupted from all sides. A group of living corpses covered in black scales emerged from the underground storage area of the once-harmonious square. People in the plaza began to scream and flee, but these Level 3 living corpses didn't even glance at the living humans, charging straight toward Guo Lang instead.

Guo Lang’s evil, purple pupils narrowed slightly. He twisted the dagger in his hand, causing the cracks in the dark armor to worsen, yet it still refused to shatter.

"Tch!" Guo Lang sneered, leaping backward to avoid the encirclement of the living corpses. The moment he pulled away, the white gargoyle suddenly snatched Ian, carrying him nearly ten meters into the air.

"Is your style always so conservative?" Guo Lang’s voice echoed across the square. The timbre was exactly as it had been before, but to Ian, the words sounded strained, uttered syllable by syllable with visible difficulty.

Ian frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You have... a total of... two... Silver-tier spells, both... defensive!"

"How do you know I only have two?" Ian’s brow furrowed even deeper.

"If you had... others... just now... you would have... used them!"

This guy! Ian felt a chill. He spoke slowly, but his mind worked fast. His analysis was correct; as a newly ascended Silver-tier, he only possessed these two spells. Necromancers were primarily focused on alchemy, investing most of their energy into biological alchemy. While Necromancers enjoyed long lifespans and had plenty of time to learn powerful offensive and defensive magic, mastering two defensive spells as a fresh Silver-tier was already a rare achievement.

"So what? Do you think you can win?" Ian sneered, gesturing toward the surrounding living corpses. "These Level 3 living corpses have been modified. Their physical capabilities are twice that of ordinary Level 3s. A single one can dismantle a tank with its bare hands, and ten could hunt down a Tyrant!"

A purple glint flashed in Guo Lang’s eyes. Dark runes appeared on the ground centered around him, but they vanished the next instant. He nodded slightly, glancing at the gargoyle in the sky with a cold look.

Ian sneered internally, thinking, *Since I know you can mimic others' skills, how could I let you use a mage’s incantations? I don’t know what you were planning to use, but facing a Silver-tier Anti-Magic Field, any spell is useless!*

Though his magic was suppressed, Guo Lang’s expression remained unchanged. He silently retrieved a combat knife from his spatial pouch and assumed a defensive stance.

"A swordsman?" A flicker of irritation crossed Ian’s face. How many skills could this guy mimic? How could such an unscientific profession exist?

However, the fact that his opponent chose melee combat gave him some peace of mind. By any metric, he couldn't imagine a Bronze-tier melee fighter having any chance of victory. The opponent's attempt to mimic his Silver-tier skill had been unstable, and Ian had already judged that there were no Silver-tier professionals in the opponent’s team to mimic.

Despite calculating that his win rate was much higher, Ian still felt a sense of unease. From the moment this man appeared, he had projected an immense sense of danger. That was why Ian hadn't left immediately, choosing instead to risk staying behind to snipe him. Judging by the situation, the opponent clearly possessed powerful tracking methods. His gargoyle couldn't carry him forever; it had to land eventually. If he couldn't defeat this man on his own home turf, landing anywhere else would mean certain death.

In other words, if he wanted to live, he had to kill his opponent here, on this advantageous battlefield.

The living corpses stopped a few meters away from Guo Lang, growling viciously but not attacking. These nematode-controlled living corpses were not true undead; their nervous systems were controlled by the parasites within, meaning they possessed biological instincts. While ordinary living corpses lacked intelligence, evolved ones were highly sensitive—just like the one Alice had killed earlier.

They sensed immediately that the man before them was incredibly dangerous.

*Is it a standoff?* Ian thought to himself. He didn't move either; it was a test of who could hold their nerve.

But the next moment, Ian was stunned. Guo Lang merely glanced coldly at the living corpses and walked naturally toward the nearest one, wielding his combat knife. He broke the stalemate proactively, and the movement was so devoid of awkwardness that both Ian and the living corpses were collectively taken aback.

Ian’s unease grew. Usually, a standoff was a cautious attitude adopted when both sides were of similar strength, but in this case, a pack of living corpses was the one being cautious, while the opponent had nonchalantly shattered the tension.

When the level gap was too large, high-level beings didn't bother with standoffs. Was this recklessness or confidence? For some reason, as Ian looked at the man's cold expression, he believed it was the latter.

Is he truly this strong? A look of disbelief appeared on Ian’s face.

Guo Lang, having stepped into the sensitive zone, looked at the living corpses—who appeared ferocious but were inexplicably blustering—and the corner of his mouth curled into a smile. It was a faint smile, but it made him look like a demon baring its fangs.

He raised his hand, assuming an opening stance at a very bizarre angle. Had Ye Zhiqiū been present, he would have been shocked; this was a sword technique from the Shadow-side of the Blademasters, collectively known as the "Ghost Sword Style." In the sacred grounds of their Fireblade Clan, the sword-warriors who inherited this style were called "Sword Demons."