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1810. Stupid

"Did his speech make any sense to you?" Sword Saint whispered.

"Divine Demon is crazy," Noah commented. "Don't try to learn how to improve your sword arts from someone who has to forget the very foundation of his existence to launch attacks."

"Forgetting doesn't sound bad if those are the results," Sword Saint announced while studying the horizontal cut on the creature's waist.

The white slash had damaged a body that had absorbed every attack that had flown in its direction. The sole fact that the monster could suffer injuries left both Sword Saint and Noah surprised.

"Maybe that's the last piece," Sword Saint exclaimed. "The last of the arts is the form that doesn't make sense!"

Noah massaged his temples when he heard those words. Divine Demon wasn't only going off with his challenge. He was even putting Sword Saint's law at risk with his actions.

'How do I even solve this?' Noah cursed in his mind while his eyes moved between his companions.

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