The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 420: I Need a Sword to Kill You?

This wasn't the kind of pain caused by an ordinary illness—it was the result of a magical artifact, far beyond the scope of typical remedies.

He tried acupuncture in an attempt to ease her pain, but it proved ineffective. Tracy's head throbbed as if it were about to split.

John's frustration grew.

Soon, his eyes darkened with a cold resolve.

He felt an unfamiliar aura approaching—a familiar cultivator's presence, no doubt drawn by the Tripod of Cyan.

"I found The Holy Fire Tripod of Queen Cyan!"

An excited voice shouted from below.

John's sharp eyes immediately recognized the voice.

Without a second thought, he stepped out onto the second-floor balcony, scanning the area below. Under the glow of the streetlights, he spotted several young men and women.

Among them, he recognized a man and a woman from Mount Oracle.

It was Steph Uran and the woman in cyan.

When the two saw John, their expressions shifted to shock.

Steph, his face twisted in surprise, called out, "Why is he here? Did The Holy Fire Tripod of Queen Cyan choose him as its master?"

The woman in cyan frowned, shaking her head. "I don't think so. The Holy Fire Tripod is divided into the sun tripod cauldron and the moon tripod cauldron. This one is the moon tripod, which is meant for women only. There should be a woman in the room."

"Well, that's easy enough. Let's get her to come out and speak with us," Steph sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance.

In an instant, he launched himself toward the balcony, preparing to reach John's level.

As he ascended through the air, John's voice rang out, firm and commanding. "Get out."

Steph halted midair, glaring at John with a mocking smirk. "What did you say? You think you can make me leave? What if I don't?"

His expression was one of amusement, clearly underestimating John.

Steph had intended to teach Jerome a lesson back at Mount Oracle, but the woman in cyan had stopped him. This time, he had no such hesitation—he planned to not only take the Tripod of Cyan but also seize John's sword, eliminating two problems at once.

The woman in cyan, clearly worried, quickly intervened. "Steph, stop. Ms. Loop has surely sensed the aura of the Tripod by now. She'll be here soon. We need to tread carefully."

Her voice was laced with concern.

John wasn't just any ordinary person—he wielded not only a sword but also some mysterious connection to the Holy Fire Tripod. He could not be underestimated.

Despite her warning, Steph's expression darkened. He wasn't about to let this opportunity slip.

"I'm just going to teach him a lesson. It won't hurt anything," he grumbled, ignoring the woman's objections.

With a sneer, he continued his approach, stepping lightly through the air toward the balcony.

"Boy, where's your sword? Draw it out. Let's see what you've got," Steph taunted, his tone mocking.

John's patience wore thin.

"Three seconds," he said coldly, his voice a low growl. "Get out of my face, or I'll kill you all."

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A cruel edge flickered in his eyes, his resolve hardening.

Steph chuckled, clearly unimpressed.

"Oh, so you're pretending to be tough, huh?"

"Are you really addicted to pretending, or have you just gotten so used to fooling lowlifes that you've lost touch with reality?" he mused, shaking his head.

John could feel his temper rising, but he held his ground.

"Do you want me to count for you?" Steph continued with a sneer. "One... two... three. So what are you going to do about it?"

Before Steph could finish his mockery, the world seemed to blur for a moment.

In the blink of an eye, a flash of light cut through the air.

A bloodline appeared on Steph's neck.

His life began to drain away almost instantly.

"W-What...?" Steph gasped, his eyes wide in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

He hadn't even seen how John had done it. He hadn't even drawn his sword.

"Why do I need a sword to kill you?" John's voice was icy, almost a whisper, but it carried with it an undeniable finality.

Before Steph could respond, he collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, his life extinguished.

The woman in cyan, along with the others below, stood frozen in disbelief.

They hadn't seen how John had done it. They couldn't fathom how someone could die in such a short amount of time, without even a single strike from a sword.

"Damn it!" the woman in cyan finally shouted, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and disbelief. "Do you know who we are? How dare you kill us?"

Her voice quivered with resentment as she glared up at John, the fury in her eyes burning bright.

She had harbored feelings for Steph back at the sect, but now, those feelings had been abruptly cut short by John's merciless act.

Of course, she hated him for it.

John's expression remained unfazed.

"I don't care who you are," he said coldly, his words cutting through the air like a blade. "If you dare to mess with me, you'll end up nothing more than a pile of bodies."