Due to an error in this operation, I had to modify the preceding chapters, but instead altered a crucial one—the mother chapter. This has caused distress for some readers who subscribed to this book, and the author sincerely apologizes. Furthermore, to express this apology through substantive action, an extra chapter will be added tomorrow. We ask the readers who encountered the erroneous chapter for their kind indulgence.

With that said, Yang Ying didn't wait for Horace's reply, his form flickering into a bolt of electric light, instantly appearing before Horace. Horace swung his staff down, but Yang Ying parried the light skill with his left sword while thrusting his right toward Horace's chest. The light staff, which Yang Ying previously could not budge even with full strength, was now deflected by the light sword's block.

Horace flipped backward, evading Yang Ying’s thrust. He retreated two steps, but Yang Ying immediately pressed the attack, his twin golden swords stabbing toward Horace from the left and right simultaneously.

Yet, Horace’s staff technique was forged through countless trials, having served him across the Solar System for half a century; it would not yield so easily. Just as Yang Ying’s dual swords reached Horace, a golden light flashed before him—Horace had spun his light staff like a mill wheel.

Yang Ying’s swords drove into the wheel of light, feeling an immense force surge through the blades that swept them aside. Yang Ying immediately twisted his wrists, rotating his body along with the momentum, and using that rotational force, thrust his swords again, one from the front and one from the back. His targets were Horace’s hands wielding the staff—the hilt area.

Horace stepped half a pace to the side, pulling and shoving with both hands, sweeping the light staff in a wide arc to deflect the first sword, then abruptly reversing the motion, sweeping the staff back as if inertia did not exist, deflecting the second sword.

Yang Ying’s swords were batted away to the left and right, leaving his center wide open. Horace immediately pressed forward with a thrust; the tip of the staff was momentarily at Yang Ying’s chest.

Yang Ying had just entered the Master realm. After such an advancement, he was unfamiliar with many aspects and needed time to adjust. Under normal circumstances, a newly promoted Psionic Master would immediately enter secluded cultivation for a period, familiarizing themselves with all the changes brought by the new realm before emerging.

However, Yang Ying did not have that luxury. He had advanced through combat and vaulted directly to the pinnacle of the Master realm—Peak Master—with all his capabilities surging forward. It was like an infant suddenly possessing the strength of a grown man; all the changes required adaptation within battle.

Seeing the staff tip arrive at his chest, Yang Ying sensed it was too late to recover with his dual swords. Horace was indeed a seasoned Peak Master; the timing and angle of this strike were exquisitely precise. Yang Ying found himself utterly unable to evade!

In that moment of crisis, Yang Ying didn't think; he leaned his body back while simultaneously kicking out. This kick was executed purely by the instinct of the Blade Emperor, thrown out subconsciously.

The kick was both swift and cunning, striking the staff handle squarely and deflecting the light staff. Although Horace had anticipated this kick, he failed to dodge it successfully.

Yang Ying seized the opportunity, retracting his swords to guard his whole body, straightening his backward-leaning posture. Left sword, right sword—the attacks flowed ceaselessly toward Horace.

“Yang Ying, although your psionic power has reached the Peak Master level, you are still no match for me. Look at your swordsmanship—you haven't even formed a defensive circle! How can you fight me with no structure whatsoever!”

Horace wielded his staff with both hands, his movements spreading like an unstoppable wildfire. As sword met staff, Yang Ying felt the force on the staff’s blade was overwhelmingly potent, still superior to his own full exertion.

To prevent his dual swords from being swept away again, Yang Ying maintained a rhythm: left sword attacking while the right parried, or vice versa—one sword offensive, the other defensive. He managed to stabilize the situation temporarily, but posing a threat to Horace remained beyond his current capability.

Horace’s light skill wove an incredibly tight defensive perimeter around himself. Yang Ying tried several times, but every time his light sword breached the defensive circle, it was deflected by Horace at the first instant, as if the entire area covered by the light skill had become Horace’s domain. No matter how cunning the angle of attack, it could not escape Horace’s senses.

After dozens of exchanges, Horace seemed to have gauged Yang Ying’s limits and gradually escalated his offensive, pressing in on Yang Ying like a fierce tiger descending a mountain. Yang Ying slowly found himself unable to withstand Horace’s assault. His two light swords were forced into defense, rarely initiating an attack, and he began to retreat step by step.

For every step Yang Ying took back, Horace advanced one. It was like conquering territory; Yang Ying’s position was being seized piece by piece by Horace. Furthermore, because Yang Ying had not yet established his own defense, he faced mortal peril numerous times. After ten more exchanges, half of Yang Ying’s dorsal bone wings had been cleaved away. If not for the instincts of combat driving him to evade several fatal blows, he would likely have been finished by now.

The clash between Peak Masters generates residual shockwaves of terrifying magnitude. In less than a hundred exchanges, an entire street and dozens of buildings had been destroyed.

Every collision of sword and staff created a shockwave akin to a high-explosive detonation. This shockwave was manageable for Yang Ying and Horace, but for the surrounding construction materials, it exceeded their limits of endurance.

Although Yang Ying was at a disadvantage, he felt no fear in his heart. The mental purification he underwent during his ascent to Master realm had allowed him to see through the essence of the material world. Nothing in this world could instill fear in him anymore—not even an enemy he currently could not defeat. Moreover, Horace, though powerful, had not reached a level beyond Yang Ying’s eventual capacity to overcome.

The battleground shifted to a residential villa area. Horace swept his staff down with crushing force. Yang Ying had lost his retreat path and could only meet the attack with his swords. With a deafening crash, Yang Ying was sent flying back like a cannonball, roaring meters away into dozens of villas, smashing through them before emerging on the other side. He consecutively impacted five or six villas before finally stopping.

In the final villa, Yang Ying propped himself up on the ground, groaning as he climbed to his feet. Around him sounded a chorus of tinkling and crashing—the sound of pots, pans, and various appliances being smashed in the room.

Suddenly, Yang Ying ducked low. A sharp pebble, traveling at speeds exceeding a hundred times the speed of sound, zipped over his head. Only after dodging did the piercing whistle reach his ears, followed by a muffled boom behind him. Yang Ying glanced back with the corner of his eye and saw that the wall behind him had vanished, enveloped in smoke.

Yang Ying’s eyes pierced through the smoke and he realized the wall wasn't the only casualty. Behind that villa, another residence was already collapsing, felled by that small stone!

Turning back, he heard a creaking sound nearby. Yang Ying knew the villa he was in was likely at its limit. He shifted his footing and darted out just as a crash sounded behind him, the entire structure collapsing.

As soon as Yang Ying emerged outside the villa, Horace flashed before him again, the staff descending upon Yang Ying’s head!

Yang Ying cried out, “Good timing!” Waving his dual swords, he met the attack once more.

The two fought for several dozen more exchanges. Yang Ying’s situation hadn't improved significantly; he was still predominantly defending, suppressed by Horace. However, Yang Ying wasn't merely enduring blows. He was learning and adapting to his current realm, refining his swordsmanship.

Horace was one of the supreme masters in the Solar System. The experience gained from fighting him far surpassed what Yang Ying could achieve through months of solitary practice. Even other Master-level experts, surviving a life-or-death duel against Horace, would gain immense progress.

However, challenging a master carried immense risk. Failure meant death at Horace’s hands, rendering all progress void.

But Yang Ying differed from ordinary Masters. He was currently fighting utilizing a clone body. Even if this body were destroyed in battle, the experience would be retained. Therefore, Yang Ying felt no apprehension in directly confronting Horace.

Simultaneously with the fighting, Yang Ying felt waves of oppressive pressure emanating from Horace, keeping him highly tense. Every subtle sign was captured by his acute senses, processed, and absorbed in his mind. Yang Ying's comprehension of the Master realm began to absorb knowledge like a dry sponge.

It was important to remember that Yang Ying had twelve avatars on the Floating Continent. Although their strength had been consolidated into Yang Ying's main body, they still possessed the essence of the Master level, their thought processes synchronized with the main body. They could analyze and process combat experience for Yang Ying, allowing him to focus purely on the fighting.

The experience Yang Ying gained in battle was rapidly converted into his own strength, which he then applied reflexively back into the real combat situation, gathering further experience in a virtuous cycle.

After another hundred exchanges, Yang Ying's counterattacks began to increase gradually.

Horace keenly noticed this shift and felt a fresh sense of caution regarding Yang Ying, for he realized that the pair of golden light swords in Yang Ying’s hands were finally beginning to form a defensive circle!

Horace muttered internally, “Damn it, his progress is this fast!” He roared in frustration and intensified his attack, sweeping his light staff down heavily, sending Yang Ying flying once more.

It wasn't that he couldn't finish Yang Ying directly; he had the chance many times. But the Blade Emperor’s combat instincts protected Yang Ying repeatedly. At every most critical juncture, Yang Ying would instinctively make the most suitable judgment in the narrowest of moments.

When he was still a Quasi-Master, he could analyze the situation, but his strength wasn't sufficient to evade, leading to many of his bodies being killed by Horace. But now, being a Peak Master himself, although slightly weaker in raw power, the situation was no longer one-sided.

The flung Yang Ying quickly scrambled up from a pile of rubble, waved his dual swords, shifted his stance, and lunged toward Horace again!

Concurrently, a thousand meters away from the intense battlefield, Envoy of the Apes No. 1, Ulysses, stood atop a skyscraper, gazing toward the combat zone. He saw smoke and dust billowing, with houses collapsing one after another.

Ulysses knew that as a Quasi-Master, engaging in this battle between peak entities would only mean seeking death. Thus, he took no further action. However, just as he was observing the dizzying spectacle, a voice reached his ears.

“Did you hear me, my son?”