The number of moves required for a low-grade Mi-Sword to shatter a mid-grade Mi-Sword is not fixed. Generally, it takes only about thirty strikes for a silver lightsaber to cut through an ordinary lightsaber.

However, as the great swordsman Jin once said, the sword is dead, but the swordsman is alive. When two Awakened individuals wielding a silver lightsaber and an ordinary lightsaber, respectively, engage in combat, the one with the ordinary blade will not simply allow their weapon to be shattered.

The most common tactic involves using cold energy to cool the power cell within the hilt, reducing its load and allowing the ordinary lightsaber to sustain its function for a longer duration. The battle between David and Number Three was precisely such a case.

Number Three minimized direct light-blade clashes by relying on evasive maneuvers, cooling his lightsaber at every possible opportunity, and only after more than a hundred exchanges did his red lightsaber finally fail. Back on the space platform, Brigan had employed the same method to prolong the operational time of his purple lightsaber; otherwise, Gato's silver light-staff would have shattered it within a hundred moves.

Of course, cooling the lightsaber with cold energy is a costly endeavor, as the power cell constantly assimilates the cold energy, forcing the wielder to continuously replenish it just to maintain equilibrium with the energy drain. The result is that only one-tenth of the cold energy expended is effectively utilized.

Because of this inherent inefficiency, many yearn for a higher-grade lightsaber—one that not only grants an advantage against peers but might even allow them to challenge those of a superior rank. Yang Ying learned during his casual chat with the Kriggen couple that their victory in that particular engagement was largely due to sheer luck.

Lena’s weapon was merely a standard green lightsaber, which had clashed multiple times with Ulysses’s purple blade. Ulysses had specifically targeted her, counting on the inferiority of her sword to crack the opposition open; at least eighty percent of his assaults were directed at her.

If not for the fact that Ulysses’s lightsaber was only one level higher than Lena’s, while David’s was two levels above the Ape Emissary Number Three’s, leading to Number Three’s blade exploding first, the outcome of the battle might have been entirely different. Even as it was, because Ulysses held the advantage over Lena, and David was suppressed by Number Three, Lena’s lightsaber was already nearing its critical threshold—almost as hot as a branding iron—when Ulysses retreated.

Had Lena not entirely encased her hilt in cold energy to insulate the internal heat from radiating outward, she would have suffered severe burns to her hands. “I never realized that a mere silver lightsaber could have such a direct impact on the tide of a battle.” At eight in the evening, Gray Port, the hub city for their current operations, remained bustling.

People lingered on the streets, and numerous nightclubs were just opening their doors. The skirmishes that had taken place earlier in Long Street and the small plaza had done nothing to disrupt their routine.

Perhaps accustomed to the frequent friction between pirates and mercenaries over the years, the residents of Gray Port were unfazed by conflict; it simply became fodder for conversation, forgotten by the next day after being shared with friends. This was the genesis of Gray Port’s rich nightlife, a scene that had not diminished at all since the city transitioned from a neutral waypoint to a mercenary hub.

The people of Gray Port had long since adapted, and Yang Ying had no intention of altering their ways. In his quarters atop the administration building, Yang Ying turned the silver lightsaber over and over in his hands, letting the hilt spin between his fingers.

With a sharp zzla, the silver blade sprang forth. Yang Ying swung the lightsaber twice, then retracted the blade.

Then, as if having made a final decision, he gripped the hilt and went downstairs, stopping before the door to the Kriggen couple’s apartment. Ding-dong.

Yang Ying pressed the doorbell. “Come in!” Kriggen’s voice resonated from within.

Yang Ying opened the door to find the couple seated in a meditative posture on the carpet in the living room. “Colonel Blade, what brings you here?” Kriggen asked without preamble.

“I’ve come hoping you could keep this for me temporarily, Master Kriggen,” Yang Ying said, handing over the hilt of the sword. “Oh?” Kriggen exchanged a look with his wife.

Lena nodded and suggested, “You should take it. You experienced the swordsmanship of the Ape Emissary Number One, Ulysses; it was unbelievably formidable.

If one possessed a lightsaber superior to his, dealing with him would become much simpler.” Psions are intelligent beings; even if they weren't initially, reaching the level of high-tier Psions naturally cultivates sharp intellect. The couple understood perfectly why Yang Ying was voluntarily loaning the silver lightsaber: the pressure exerted by Ulysses.

Earlier that day, Kriggen himself had considered asking Yang Ying to borrow the silver blade to counter Ulysses, but since this was only their second meeting, he hadn't brought himself to ask. “Very well.

After this matter is concluded, I will return this sword to you immediately,” Kriggen said, accepting the weapon with both hands. He then removed his own lightsaber and passed it to Lena.

And Lena, handing her sword to Yang Ying, said, “You take mine for self-defense for now. To face a master like Ulysses, using an ordinary lightsaber would only make me a liability—” “I agree,” Yang Ying replied, declining the offer to take Lena’s sword.

“You don’t need to give me this one; I have a spare.” When the silver lightsaber had been fabricated, it hadn't been the only one; an entire batch of them had been silver, with no other colors present. As for whether he should produce another silver lightsaber, he had initially hesitated.

One silver blade could be dismissed as a fluke, but two appearing in his possession simultaneously—the odds were too remote, almost impossible. Silver lightsabers were an exceedingly rare resource, as scarce as Master-level experts, and not even every Master-level expert was equipped with one.

If he revealed a second silver lightsaber, it would almost certainly imply that he possessed the technology for polishing the focusing crystal. This was an extremely advanced technique, possessed only by the Psion Temple and a handful of high-level optical laboratories affiliated with the military.

Clearly, this was technology that could turn Tran Corporation into a target. Given Yang Ying’s aversion to trouble, any such technology was to be guarded as secret as possible.

However, witnessing the overwhelming dominance of a high-grade lightsaber over a low-grade one in the two recent battles sparked an idea in Yang Ying’s mind. Perhaps the technology for polishing focusing crystals did not need such stringent secrecy.

The direct beneficiaries of this technology—the Psion Temple—were not pragmatic, trigger-happy hunters focused on eliminating emergent threats; rather, they resembled an organization filled with idealists. To put it plainly, the character of the Psion Masters was trustworthy!

The technology for polishing focusing crystals might serve as a bridge between him and the Psion Temple, allowing the young branch of Tran Corporation to graft itself onto the mighty trunk of the Temple! After lending out the lightsaber, Yang Ying was about to depart when suddenly, a vast wave of psionic energy erupted from a corner of Gray Port, spreading across the entire city almost instantaneously!

This intense presence shocked the three individuals in the room. Yang Ying stood up and asked the two Psions, “What is happening?” “A peak Master-level expert!

Even stronger than Master Garcia!” Kriggen’s eyes were wide, as if witnessing a deity before him. “Could it be Horace himself who has arrived in Gray Port?” A sudden tension gripped Yang Ying.

With his current strength, a Master-level expert like Little Gato could easily kill him, let alone a peerless fiend—no, a peerless ape like Horace. But events unfolded far beyond anyone’s expectations.

While they were still reeling in astonishment, another massive psionic surge erupted from the same location in Gray Port. Another powerful presence had manifested!

“Two! Two peak Master-level experts have appeared here!

There are only ten peak Masters in the entire solar system—five among humans and five among the Ancient Legion. To have two surface here in Gray Port today… this is simply, this is simply—” Lena repeated, “This is simply…” but could find no word adequate to describe her shock.

At that moment, Ulysses stood in that corner of Gray Port, watching two tall figures confront each other before them, while Ape Emissary Number Three lay lifelessly at his feet. Moments earlier, a figure cloaked in black had appeared before Ulysses and Number Three without warning.

As Number Three prepared to move, the black-robed figure merely pointed a finger, and Number Three instantly began bleeding profusely, collapsing to the ground dead—crushed as if by a ten-thousand-ton press, his entire body reduced to a desiccated husk. “Come with me, Ulysses,” the black-robed figure commanded in a voice that brooked no argument.

When Ulysses managed to utter a tentative, “Who are you?” Hahahaha! A wild peal of laughter suddenly echoed through the void.

Horace seemed to have been lying in ambush, appearing beside Ulysses and unleashing an intense presence that almost solidified the air, nearly suffocating him. Immediately following this, the black-robed figure released an equally potent presence.

The two peak Masters, at the instant of meeting, unleashed their full power, pressing against each other. The air exploded under the force of their psionic clash.

The towering shockwave far exceeded Ulysses’s comprehension; surrounding buildings toppled, the ground fractured, creating a scene as if the heavens were falling and the earth splitting apart—a vivid manifestation right before his eyes. Ulysses felt as if his entire body was on fire and had to retreat dozens of meters just to bear the pressure exerted by these two peak Masters.

And this was merely the precursor to their actual engagement! “You have finally appeared, Agen.

I have waited over thirty years for you to show yourself,” Horace’s voice resonated like magma from the depths of the earth, carrying a palpable, heart-stopping power. “Horace,” the black-robed figure, Agen, glanced left and right.

“This location cannot withstand the two of us. Let’s take this outside!”