Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

This is the only way for the weak to defeat the strong.

"You...the way you were just now, from beginning to end, it was all...an act..." Kusaya Kari's eyes widened in disbelief. He remained in that position, his body trembling slightly. "Just for this one strike?"

"All's fair in war, you're too... arrogant, Sword God..." Ren was also injured, but he was younger, stronger, and had greater endurance. His voice was a level more stable than that of the current Cao Ya Karimasa.

"you lose."

"You didn't win fair and square either!" Kasaya Kari's eyes widened, his last words filled with anger and resentment at being tricked. "In terms of swordsmanship, even ten of you tied together wouldn't be a match for me! This is not the behavior of a samurai!"

“Yes,” Ren said casually, “I am the War Demon!”

"laugh!"

Holding a wakizashi, he slashed horizontally across the stomach of the grass-dwelling karimasa!

"ah----!!"

As the contents of his stomach gushed out, Cao Yajima immediately screamed in agony, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

In a sense, he was also "seppuku" (ritual suicide). With the release of his grip, Jin was finally able to escape completely from his blade.

"Since I've already committed seppuku, I might as well... see it through to the end..."

"I'll take your place!"

Turn around.

A knife!

The long sword swept across cleanly and swiftly.

The screams stopped abruptly as Kasaya Karimasa's head and body were smoothly separated, and he fell to the ground.

Chapter 861: The Jack Gang, Finally Over

"Lu, it's been a long time."

Jack looked at him with a complex expression that was hard to describe.

Perhaps he had rehearsed this scene countless times in his mind. But when it actually happened, he was still unable to express himself clearly. Many of the things he wanted to say were like a tangled ball of yarn, with no end in sight.

Scenes from the past flashed through his mind. He seemed to hear the crackling of the campfire in the camp. In the warm firelight, he waved his hand and imagined the future.

"Looks like your plan has failed again, Jack." Calaway's target was clear, and without any hesitation, he drew his gun and pointed it at the other man's forehead.

At the same time, Jack's defensive instincts, deeply ingrained in his blood, prompted him to draw his revolver and point it at the same angle.

"Is this really how it has to be, Lu?" After a moment of silence, Jack lowered his gun and put it back in its holster, saying, "Don't forget, all your skills were taught to you by me."

“You were the youngest and most promising member of the Jack Gang. You were only fifteen when you joined the gang. I raised you from the bottom up, taught you how to shoot, ride a horse, use a knife, and how to kill.”

“You were once my family.”

“Looks like it isn’t.” Calaway sneered, pointing the muzzle of his gun at the magnificent palace not far away, then sheathed the gun and laughed, “You have something better now.”

“I had no other choice. Under those circumstances, I didn’t want to die like that.” His smile was like a needle, piercing Jack’s pride and making him furious. “That night, you and Elan were in charge of the backup. You have no idea what we went through… Facing that kind of monster, there was no other way but to surrender.”

"As far as I know, after you retired, you changed your name and infiltrated the New Orleans police system. You even served as the sheriff of San Quintak for a period of time."

"Why is it that when you do the same thing, it's fine, but when I do it, it's wrong?"

……

“‘We are idealists who change the world, and we should never give up.’” After a moment of silence, Calaway suddenly spoke, staring intently at him. “‘Dreams, wishes, and everything that embraces freedom—if we don’t have them, what’s the difference between us and monkeys?’”

"These are your exact words at the time."

"And now? Are you a dreamer, or the monkey hiding in the big tree, cowering and afraid to come down?"

Jack's expression froze.

The intense emotional shock caused the muscles in his face to twitch involuntarily. Past events flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern, becoming increasingly clear. He felt his neatly tailored suit tightening little by little, making it hard for him to breathe.

"There have never been any dreamers, Lu. We are a band of robbers, wandering in this world that is gradually no longer ours..."

"You're the same!"

----

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

The contest between two top marksmen is essentially a contest of reaction speed. But interestingly, their reaction speed isn't focused on drawing their guns; they're both doing something else entirely.

Despite his advanced age, with his hair and beard already gray, Jack actually risked his life and pounced like a hungry tiger pouncing on a sheep, flying towards the side ground where there was no cushioning!

This is one of his commonly used deceptive tactics. When he was younger, his body was more resistant to falls, and he could roll a few more times after landing.

In typical cowboy duels, two people each take ten steps, turn, and fire, with stationary targets on either side, greatly increasing the probability of a hit. However, shooting at a stationary target and shooting at a moving target are two completely different things. Through this lunge, Jack turns himself into a moving target, and while lunging, he draws his gun with his right hand and aims at Calaway's torso.

Tick.

In less than a second, in the blink of an eye, something faster than a bullet... came—a beam of light.

Calaway's right hand rested on his belt, using the gleaming brass buckle to reflect the surrounding light.

The beam of light shone precisely into Jack's eyes. His pupils constricted instinctively upon encountering the bright light. This caused his shot to go unfired. His heart sank; he knew something was wrong.

In a duel between masters, a moment's delay can drastically alter the outcome.

……

"Bang---!!"

……

"Uh……"

Jack, who crashed heavily to the ground, ultimately couldn't fire the shot. Even disregarding other factors, he was no longer the young cowboy who rode wild horses and roamed the land. At his age, a hard fall to the ground made his bones crack and pop.

Calaway's left-hand pistol, a step ahead of him, pierced through Mike's palm and into his body, just as it had pierced Mike's right hand.

……

He tried to draw a second gun with his left hand, but even turning over was difficult. He loosened his clenched teeth, sighed, and finally gave up.

“You’re still as cunning as ever, Lu… I’m defeated by you…” Jack murmured. “Sorry, you’re right.”

"I betrayed you."

----

Calaway was stunned for a moment, his eyes filled with anger and sorrow, and his mustache trembled along with it.

He had no other choice, just as Jack had no other choice. They each chose their own path, and twenty years later, the distance between those two paths was far, far away.

Aside from the fact that the name is still the same, the current Jack is a completely different person from the Jack that Calaway remembers, who harbored ideals, robbed the rich to help the poor, and wanted to change the world.

"I am Calaway, [Little Calaway]."

He repeated himself, slowly raising the muzzle of the gun. After taking a deep breath, his trembling wrist stopped instantly, and he slowly flicked the firing pin.

"You didn't betray us either, Jack..."

"You have betrayed yourself."

……

"boom!!"

Calaway pulled the trigger. In that instant, the gunshot reflected on his face, giving his expression a sense of fearless holiness. It was as if this shot had killed not only Jack, but also his past self.

He didn't leave immediately, but stayed where he was, staring blankly at Jack's body for a while. After a long time, for the first time since killing his enemy, he showed a look of loss, took a few steps back, leaned against the wall, slowly sat down, and lit a cigarette for himself.

He struck the match, and although the light was bright, his hand trembled. He tried several times before he finally lit it.

"call……"

He exhaled a puff of smoke, finally managing to suppress his turbulent emotions. Calaway closed his eyes and murmured something.

"From then on, the Jack Gang..."

"it is finally over."

Chapter 862: Times Have Changed

"when----!!!"

The sword that suddenly appeared from the side caused the stranger's expression to change slightly. The sword that was originally aimed at Silver Frost could only be turned back to block the attack.

However, the opponent's strength was far greater than he had imagined. The power of a single sword strike forced him to take several steps back before he could regain his footing.

Upon closer inspection, the newcomer was not particularly robust; in fact, he was rather short. He was dressed in white, wearing a white robe and a white helmet, his entire body a pure white.

Stranger had encountered masked opponents before, but this one felt incredibly strange. Not only were the physique and strength mismatched, but Stranger hadn't sensed where the man had come from at all. Footsteps, breathing, heartbeat—normal human activity would leave subtle traces, yet Stranger had left nothing.

These enemies lying on the ground suddenly became insignificant. They were no match for the Stranger to begin with, and with Drogo and A-Tian confined in their cages for so long, their fighting strength had been severely diminished. After a few moves, they all fell to the ground. The Stranger also cut the bowstrings of two Indian warriors, leaving them wounded and unable to get up.

Victory was just one step away, yet the stranger remained terrifyingly calm.

Ren's previous tactics of defeating the strong with the weak were completely ineffective against him. His strength was absolutely overwhelming, yet he was behaving with extreme caution at this moment. When a strong person begins to think and fight like a weakling, only an opponent of equal strength can defeat him.

……

The stranger twirled the two longswords with only his wrist strength and asked coldly, "And who are you? Leave your name so I can have it engraved on your tombstone when I order it."

"...It's you, Qasim?"

Zhuo Ge had been stabbed in the abdomen and was half-crouched on the ground, panting heavily. He tried to stand up, but was extremely surprised by the sudden appearance of Cheng Yaojin. "You're still in this country? We all thought... you had already taken a ship and gone somewhere!"

"That's your name." The stranger twirled his sword, repeating coldly, "Qasim? The bandit leader from Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves?"

"Do you know what's happening in this city? Do you know what your fate will be if you get involved?"

……

"Clang—!!"

Qasim did not answer. He flicked his sword lightly, stood sideways, and his eyes beneath his helmet were expressionless.

"Fine, since you're determined to die..."

"Then come on!!"

----

In a sense, Qasim's attack style is quite similar to that of the Stranger. Neither of them uses emotion in their moves, only technique, like two ruthless sword-wielding machines. They integrate everything they know, using the sword as a medium to unleash its full power.

The rapid clanging of metal striking metal was incessant.

The stranger wields the Six Swords, a two-handed sword version of the sword. He is also one of the few "sons" that Lu Aniu respects in this land.

The third sword strike, "Upside Down the Well," combines the 999 sword techniques into a single, two-handed execution. The swordplay itself becomes more concentrated, with both hands wielding the sword simultaneously in a rapid, rhythmic motion, the sword light dazzling. Theoretically, its attack range is twice that of a single-handed sword strike, like a silver snake dancing wildly, a dragon unleashing its ferocity!

A series of clanging sounds emanated from this impenetrable hemisphere, interspersed with the sound of swords slicing through the air.

Those who were lying on the ground, still conscious, were witnessing such a scene for the first time.

They didn't dare to breathe loudly, fearing that even the slightest external factor might change the course of the battle.

"when---!!"

Swords clashed.

Surprisingly, it was the stranger who staggered out, his usually expressionless face now showing signs of dishevelment and astonishment.

This opponent, relying solely on experience, barely managed to parry his swift and fierce third sword strike without being sliced ​​to pieces, and was even able to retaliate—that was already quite impressive. But what truly astonished the stranger was not this.

Several cuts have appeared on the spotless white robe.

The sword strike consisted of 999 moves, some of which effectively struck him. Wrist, ankle, thigh, side abdomen... all the vital points prone to bleeding were within the design of the sword moves. He clearly felt that he had struck his body.

But there was no blood.

Judging from his physical condition, he was not injured and could still move freely.

"Who exactly are you..." The stranger lowered his voice, his tone full of hostility, "What are you?!"

"What amazing swordsmanship! Zhang told me about it, and I tried my best to imagine it, but I didn't expect it to be even more magnificent than I imagined."

Kasim held his longsword to his chest, as if remembering something. He closed his eyes slightly and sighed, "What a pity, swordsman, your talent was so high..."

"Compared to the Battle of Thermopylae, it's still a bit lacking."

A person.