The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 338 – Bruce’s Sword

With a sharp snort, Bruce raised his arm. The strip of cloth tying the sword at his back snapped, and the blade flew cleanly into his grasp with practiced grace.

In martial arts, a quality weapon could elevate a cultivator's strength by a significant margin.

And Bruce's weapon wasn't ordinary.

This was the Will Clan's treasured sword, crafted by a master bladesmith whom Carl Will had tracked down after tremendous effort. The blade could endure the internal force of a late-stage Venerable Realm cultivator.

Bruce, as the Will Clan's prodigy and heir apparent, had been entrusted with this artifact.

At his current level, wielding this sword allowed Bruce to unleash power equivalent to the peak of the Heaven Realm.

From the crowd, Tony couldn't help but shout, "You should've drawn that sword earlier! Why waste time talking with that brat? Brother, finish him off—cut him down!"

But another voice cut across his words.

"Don't talk nonsense. My brother-in-law hasn't even taken you seriously. If he wanted, he could kill your brother with a flick of his finger."

The speaker was Jacob Yeats.

Originally, he wouldn't have been allowed into the school grounds. But things were different now—he came with John and even landed a front-row view. Coincidentally, he was standing quite close to Tony.

He couldn't hold back after hearing Tony's shouting.

Tony turned to glare at him, teeth clenched in fury. "Laugh while you can. Let's see what I do to you once John's dead!"

Jacob simply snorted and turned away, ignoring him. He didn't believe for a second that Bruce could defeat his brother-in-law.

In Jacob's eyes, everyone should be kneeling before John.

On the stage, Bruce's expression turned serious. The blade shimmered, its cold radiance glinting across his face and making the killing intent in his eyes even more intense.

"Bastard, are you ready to die?" he growled.

All the internal force in Bruce's body surged into the sword. A brilliant light exploded from the blade, coalescing into a dazzling sphere.

It was blinding. Radiant. Terrifying.

The aura of slaughter erupted like a dam breaking—rushing outward in an overwhelming torrent.

BOOM!

The light was like a river of stars descending upon the earth.

The energy surged toward John, engulfing him entirely. Within that radiant storm, his figure disappeared. No one could see what had become of him.

Gasps echoed throughout the crowd.

"This is the genius of the Will Clan... he's terrifying!"

While the sword's power came from its craftsmanship, the martial artist's own ability defined how it would be wielded.

And Bruce...

Bruce had clearly surpassed expectations.

Chapter 339 – The Unshaken

Even among those at Bruce's stage, few could unleash such a devastating blow.

Everyone knew it.

Bruce was undeniably a genius.

But John?

He had to be dust in that light. No one could survive that.

How could anyone take Bruce head-on and live?

Sophia's heart pounded in her chest, her face pale. Fear rooted her to the spot.

Please don't die, she prayed.

If even she, who had seen John's strength firsthand, doubted his survival... what hope was there?

The crowd was certain—John had perished.

Only Jacob remained resolute in his belief. He refused to accept any outcome other than John's victory.

And outside the school, others who had been barred from entering waited anxiously, sharing his faith.

Inside the hall, the radiant sword light finally began to fade.

As the dust settled, a silhouette emerged.

The crowd froze.

John.

He was still standing.

Alive. Unharmed.

More than that—he had caught Bruce's sword with just two fingers.

Two fingers.

An explosion of stunned exclamations echoed across the audience.

What kind of monster was this?

How could a Robust master—looked down on by his peers—completely negate an attack equivalent to the peak of the Heaven Realm?

It was insane!

Martial artists across the crowd felt their convictions crumble. Everything they thought they knew about cultivation and combat was being rewritten before their eyes.

The Will Clan's treasured sword, once a symbol of unstoppable might, now looked no stronger than paper in John's grasp.

And yet—John didn't break it.

That would've drawn too much attention.

Instead, he gave the sword a light flick. A crisp clang echoed as a pulse of internal energy surged along the blade like lightning, traveling down to Bruce's hand.

Zzzzap!

Bruce's palm went numb instantly.

"Still want to fight?" John asked, smiling calmly.

Bruce, the once-proud prodigy of the Will Clan, trembled.

The thought of taking a power-boosting pill flickered through his mind.

But what if it still wasn't enough?

What if, even after that, he couldn't hurt John?

What then?

Wouldn't it mean that all his cultivation, all his knowledge of the Heaven Realm, was meaningless?

Whoever said Robust masters were losers?

Even with a gap of three full realms, Bruce couldn't land a single blow. And John still hadn't fought back.

Robust masters were known for their endurance and resilience. In prolonged battles, they could outlast nearly anyone. And when the opponent ran dry of internal energy—that was when they struck.

Now Bruce understood.

Bertha hadn't chosen John for his looks or charm.

She had chosen him for his... endurance.

That's what she likes?!

"Jesus..." Bruce muttered, his grip on the sword faltering.

He lowered his weapon and scowled at John.

"I don't like it, but you've shattered my view of what a Robust master is. I'll admit... you're excellent."

John smiled meaningfully.

"You admit I'm excellent?" he echoed. "How gracious of you."

Then, slowly, he stepped forward until he stood in front of Bruce.

"Wanna make peace?"

He gave a casual shrug.

"Personally, I think it's better to get famous young. But after all, I did ascend the position..."