Chapter 2322
Isabelle’s delicate face turned grave as she raised her hand to shield her eyes, squinting. She had already pulled back a good distance, but still felt waves of stinging pain across her skin.
“Battles between men really are so much more savage,” she muttered, unable to look away for even a second.
Ezekiel and Andrew bounced backward at the same time. Then, without a pause, they shot forward again.
Andrew’s fist slammed into Ezekiel’s head, while Ezekiel’s fist likewise crashed into Andrew’s face.
Blood mixed with teeth sprayed through the air.
Ezekiel burst into manic laughter. “Come again!”
Andrew, on the other hand, maintained virtually no change in his expression throughout, just wearing a slight smile. But if one watched him closely enough, they would realize he was not actually smiling at all.
The smile on his face was like a painted portrait hung on a wall: fixed, eternal, unchanging. It was as if no matter how brutal the killing became, he would remain exactly the same.
Two cracking sounds echoed as both men twisted midair at the same time, unleashing reverse roundhouse kicks. Their muscles groaned as if tearing apart, and their leg bones collided with bone-shattering force.
Just from two exchanges, half their legs were fractured, their faces drenched in blood. Yet neither of them seemed to feel pain, and without hesitation, they lunged at each other again.
At the military headquarters, Philip had quietly adjusted his posture, now sitting upright. Anyone familiar with him knew that this key figure of the military was now taking things seriously.
Why? Because even the Martial Tower battle had caught Philip’s full attention.
“Between the two, Ezekiel’s level is slightly higher,” he explained while keeping his eyes fixed on the screen. “You could say he is already a pseudo–martial emperor.
“This was only because Waylon deliberately suppressed Ezekiel’s advancement. If he hadn’t, and Ezekiel was allowed to break through freely, then he’d be close enough in level to rival Sheena of the Lloyd royal family.”
Luna’s palms were drenched in sweat, her gaze locked on the screen. “General Turman, if that’s the case, doesn’t that put Andrew at a disadvantage?”
Philip shook his head. “In most cases, higher levels are decisive. But for Andrew, it doesn’t matter nearly as much. Right now, he can only be considered an advanced–level martial saint.
“But with him, no one can predict when he might suddenly close his eyes, open them again, and step straight into the martial emperor rank. And from there, he could explode upward like a balloon pumped too hard, all the way to the level of a martial god!”
Luna gasped in disbelief. “Why? Breaking into the martial emperor is already impossibly difficult. Why is it so easy for Andrew, and why could he keep going straight to martial god?”
Philip’s tone turned ice cold. “Because originally, he was already a martial emperor. Someone forcibly compressed his energy core, forcing his level to regress. It’s like a pipe filled completely with water.
“If you press down from above with a compressor, the water level has no choice but to drop. But once the compressor is removed, the water level will shoot straight up, even spray out.”
Luna turned her head, incredulous. “He originally already had martial emperor combat power? When did this happen?”
Philip shook his head. “There’s not much point in discussing this right now. You just need to know that everything you’ve experienced, he has experienced too. And things you haven’t experienced, he’s also been through. That’s why I’m having you spend more time with him.”
Luna fell silent, her gaze returning once more to the large screen.