BUILDING MY OWN EMPIRE - My Journey from Nothing to Overwhelming Power-Chapter 92 - 91 – Directly

The Snow-Haired Master pulled out a pouch and took out three seeds.

Unlike before, he did not eat them. Instead, he focused his accumulation energy on them.

Then...

He placed them on various wounds.

Fjata... the bleeding stopped. The injuries began healing gradually.

Jo’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t understand what had happened.

"What... is this?" he growled. He knew about accumulation seeds, but he was surprised that the Master had never eaten them himself before.

The Third-Rank Master stood, smiling.

"Despite your strength... you remain ignorant," he whispered arrogantly.

"Accumulation seeds... they don’t just restore accumulation. They also heal injuries. At a certain level of knowledge, converting the energy contained in the seeds into healing energy becomes possible.

"Of course, it’s not something anyone can do, but it’s achievable for someone who has mastered control over their energy... like me."

"I see," Jo murmured. "It’s an advantage... but how long can you rely on those seeds? I doubt they have no side effects."

The Master raised his hands, and his body filled once more with purple energy. Then, ripples appeared on the surface of the energy, gradually forming into something gelatinous that surrounded his body like armor.

The Master smiled and whispered, "It’s been a long time since I used this form... my weapon... an ancient weapon."

Jo’s eyes narrowed. He knew that ancient weapons were extremely powerful, and if wielded by a skilled Master, the force would be immense.

"Surprised?" the Master whispered. "I wouldn’t blame you. An ancient weapon is not easily obtained... it demands immense research and resources... and even then, it may not suit its Master."

Fjata...

The Master moved, charging at Jo. He wasn’t extremely fast, but he was faster than Jo.

He reached him, and from the edges of his body—specifically from the purple gelatin surrounding him—a broad rod with a circular, sharp end shot forward.

BOOOOM.

It struck the white armor violently. A sharp screech echoed.

Then...

Another rod shot, and another.

BOOOOM.

BOOOOM.

BOOOOM.

Dozens of strikes flew in sequence... then hundreds... the noise grew overwhelming. All eyes turned involuntarily.

Over a thousand consecutive strikes slammed into Jo’s armor without obstruction.

BOOOOM.

BOOOOM.

BOOOOM.

Then... the strikes began to slow.

The Snow-Haired Master stood at a distance, observing intently. Fatigue crept in, and he wiped the sweat from his brow.

In that attack, he had expended a vast amount of accumulation, yet he smiled.

The resilient ivory armor... fine cracks and tiny fractures began forming across it.

Jo felt a mild headache—not from the power of the strikes... but from their sheer number.

He quickly regained balance and looked at the ivory armor. It was covered with scratches, none of them deep, yet...

Jo’s eyes narrowed. He had not expected the armor to be struck in such a pattern, simultaneously.

His gaze turned to the Snow-Haired Master. He examined his exhaustion and began calculating.

"How many similar attacks can he perform?" he whispered inwardly. The answer came instantly.

The Third-Rank Master charged again. A new rapid assault—dozens, then hundreds, then a thousand rods with sharp ends—rushed toward Jo like a thundering wave.

Jo closed his eyes, trying to avoid the headache he had felt earlier.

BOOOOM.

The intense strikes fell, one after another. The sounds rose again.

Soon... a hundred new rods surged violently, striking over Jo again.

The second wave had not even ended before the third descended upon him.

The roar grew louder; the impacts shook violently.

Jo began feeling a sharp tingling. He opened his eyes...

He saw nothing.

The rods were falling endlessly, blocking his vision.

The Snow-Haired Master’s hand rose slowly... his fingers spread as if grasping invisible threads... then—

It dropped.

At the same moment...

The fourth wave.

A thousand rods.

Sharp, gleaming tips... honed as if on the edge of death itself.

They surged forward.

They did not merely fall...

They descended.

Like a flood.

Like rain... but rain that kills.

They cut through the air violently, whistling sharply, shattering the silence, as if the sky itself screamed.

Below—

Jo stood.

Steady.

No step back.

No glance aside.

His ivory armor... surrounded him like a quiet, transparent shell of light, yet heavy... invisibly heavy.

Then—

The strike landed.

BOOOOOOM.

A massive impact.

The ground shook.

The air exploded.

A shockwave expanded violently, carrying dust and pebbles, uprooting everything around it as if erasing the place from existence.

But—

Within that inferno...

He did not move.

Rod.

Then another.

Then dozens.

Then hundreds.

Each collided with his armor...

And broke.

Shattered.

Fragmented.

Yet...

With every collision...

Something else happened.

Something unseen...

Yet felt.

Pressure.

Weight.

Erosion.

Within the ivory armor...

Tiny cracks began forming.

Not real cracks...

But vibrations in the light itself.

Jo’s breathing remained calm.

But...

His eyes.

Grew narrower.

Heavier.

"It’s... the fourth surge," he whispered.

His voice barely audible.

Yet...

His words were clear.

Inside—

A faint sensation... began to creep in.

Pain.

At first... just a sting.

Then—

It became pressure.

Then—

Weight.

Then—

Something like... embedding.

As if every strike... did not just break the armor...

But penetrated it... slowly.

The body had not been reached yet.

But...

The path to it... had begun to open.

Impact.

Another.

And another.

And another—

The speed did not slow.

The power did not lessen.

Instead...

It increased.

The fourth wave...

Was not just a repetition.

It was... escalation.

In the sky—

The Snow-Haired Master smiled.

A cold smile.

"You won’t last long..." he whispered to himself.

His eyes watched...

Precisely.

Watching vibrations.

Watching the flicker of light.

Waiting for the moment...

When everything would break.

Below—

Jo’s knees...

Trembled.

A slight shake.

But...

It happened.

For the first time.

Then—

He stabilized himself.

Tensed his body.

Raised his shoulders.

And stiffened.

"It’s... still early," he whispered.

But—

Inside...

He knew.

The damage...

Was no longer zero.

No longer even minimal.

It... had begun to accumulate.

Like droplets of water...

Falling...

On the same spot.

Once.

Twice.

A thousand times.

Until—

They pierced the rock.

Strike—

The armor trembled.

Strike—

The light recoiled.

Strike—

The pain sank deeper.

Then—

A drop of blood.

From the corner of his mouth.

Slow.

Red.

It fell...

On the ivory armor.

And vanished.

As if it had never been.

Yet...

He felt it.

He smiled.

A small smile.

Tired.

But...

Sincere.

"Good..." he whispered.

"This... is how it should be."

Above—

The Snow-Haired Master narrowed his eyes.

He noticed.

That drop.

His smile... widened.

"Finally..."

He raised his hand again.

The air around him began to crack.

"Let’s see..."

His voice grew heavier.

"How much can you endure... at the fifth?"

And below—

Jo lifted his head.

Slowly.

Looking up.

To the sky.

To the enemy.

To the death approaching.

Then—

He closed his eyes...

For a moment.

Just one.

And took a deep breath.

"Come."

He whispered.

But this time...

He did not speak of defense.

But... of what would come next.

Jo slowly raised his hand,

The ivory sword in his grip glimmering faintly.

The Master’s eyes widened suddenly, a wave of concern spreading across his face.

He had received strikes from this sword before, without explanation, as if it had an independent will.

In a fleeting motion,

Jo raised the sword above his head,

And as it fell, the sound...

SWOOSH,

Delivered a powerful strike that shook the air.

The purple gel-like armor surrounding the Master cracked deeply,

But did not collapse entirely.

Jo did not stop; he lifted the sword again and resumed the assault,

Another crack, and another, each strike defying the rules of endurance and force.

At a decisive moment, the Master suddenly raised his hand,

And a thousand gleaming rods emerged from the gel-like shield,

Like metallic phantoms falling from the sky, colliding with Jo’s strikes in a violent dance.

The atmosphere was charged; the air itself vibrated from the intensity of the battle,

As if every move from either of them left its mark on space before the other responded with equal ferocity.

After a while... the battle began to calm. The strikes lost their intensity...

Then the two fighters stopped, Fjata...

Both were panting with exhaustion.

The resilient ivory armor... contained more than mere scratches.

There were many, many cuts that had pierced it.

Jo’s eyes narrowed. No strike from the Master should have caused such slicing damage.

But the Master... had taken another path.

He directed numerous strikes toward the same spots as before...

Scratch after scratch... eventually becoming wounds.

Jo’s resilient armor... now held no fewer than fifteen deep cuts.

As for the Third-Rank Master...

He stood at a distance...

His gel-like armor... resembled a sheet cut into dozens of fragments.

Suddenly... the master of the Snow Hair took a deep breath.

Then... he canceled the gelatinous shield.

His eyes glowed with yellow light, and he whispered,

"I didn’t think I’d be forced to use this."

Suddenly...

The purple energy began to surge out of his body in sequence,

surrounding him...

But it didn’t form a shield.

Instead, it spun around him... like magical threads moving around the center of power.

Joe’s eyes narrowed. A powerful aura emanated from the master...

Joe noticed it...

For the first time, Joe stepped back... several steps.

"It doesn’t matter," the master whispered. "Any distance you take is completely irrelevant."