Chapter 297

Chapter 297: Psychic Sniping

Mind-related abilities?

No, magic!

As the world spun violently, Midi stayed ice-cold, analyzing his predicament. But before his muscles could twitch, the unnatural phenomenon vanished.

His vision cleared abruptly.

The pre-dawn gloom stretched above, pale moonlight retreating. Below yawned the infinite black Sea of Clouds.

Midair.

The Saint had activated a teleportation magic array, hurling them both from the Magic Griffin warship. This array outclassed the one Wiseman of the Hand of Nightmare used in Belmar Duchy – near-instant activation, utterly unblockable. Even Midi, whose golden-red sword lights typically repelled all magic, got ejected without countering.

The Saint hadn’t dumped him onto any floating island.

Thirty thousand meters of empty air gaped beneath Midi’s boots.

A simple, brutal solution: let gravity do the killing.

Useless. Midi’s awakened Secret Technique “Sky Sword Dance” flared.

Golden-red radiance condensed around him. He hung motionless, then shot upward like artillery fire. Moonlight revealed the battlefield.

While Midi had sabotaged engines, the Magic Griffin warship had plunged deeper into the graveyard zone. Now bordering the inner layer’s endless void, it threatened to expose the Wind King Warship to point-blank bombardment.

Midi’s brow furrowed. He became golden-red meteorite, slamming the warship’s hull.

The impact that could shatter Tiger Shark-class Skyships merely scratched the armor.

His Dragon Sealing Sword hummed. Black mist oozed through golden-red light, shrouding him.

Nothing changed.

“Blue Truth Sect’s finest indeed,” Midi muttered through gritted teeth. He’d used Ghost Cry’s signature move Demon Shadow Flash – perfect for smuggling Reinhardt through open hatches, but useless against armored plating. The antique warship resisted both steel and sorcery.

“Think cheap tricks let you teleport inside?” A rasping saw-blade voice cut through wind.

Midi halted his next strike, turning.

The black-robed Saint floated nearby, contemptuous gaze drilling downward.

“Unexpected,” the Saint sneered. “A backwater Sea of Clouds expert mastering multiple Demon Swordsman skills and flight techniques. But…” His voice hardened. “Cloud-king means nothing in the Stormy Region’s Star Ocean. Challenge the Blue Truth Sect? Death!”

Two silver flares erupted from his hood’s shadows.

The Saint’s eyes glowed intensely, a sign of his mind-related abilities reaching their peak.

At the same moment, the telepathic shackles binding Midi abruptly vanished.

A supreme mind-related ability—psychic sniping!

The attack’s force was overwhelming. Maintaining the telepathic lock would have channeled its backlash into The Saint himself, forcing him to release Midi before striking.

Its power equaled ten simultaneous psychic explosions compressed into a single point. A direct hit would kill or cripple the target’s mind.

Midi couldn’t block it. Even a graze would leave him stunned. Despite being an Awakened One of Extraordinary Awakening, his physical and magical strength offered no defense against a higher-level Saint’s mental assault.

In that split second, Midi’s hairs stood on end. The Dragon Sealing Sword within him erupted, its surface blazing with a golden-red glow like dawn, scattering golden rays.

Time slowed to a crawl under that radiance—less than a hundredth of a second stretched into an eternity.

Only Midi’s mind remained sharp. Under his iron will, the golden-red glow around him churned violently before collapsing inward, condensing into a pinpoint…

Then exploding!

Midi vanished without a trace—no magic fluctuations, no movement, no warning.

Half a second later, he reappeared five meters away, pale but alert.

“Impossible!” The Saint roared through telepathy, his fury echoing mentally. Psychic sniping, with its near-perfect accuracy, had missed.

Midi ignored him. A Radiance of Light slipped into his palm as he hovered defiantly, secretly absorbing its energy.

He grimaced inwardly. He’d hoped to avoid magic depletion, yet here he was, drained again in under half a day. But weakness couldn’t show.

“Impressive skill,” Midi taunted coldly. “But that attack emptied your psychic reserves, didn’t it?”

The Saint sneered. “Says the one who burned his magic on a forced teleport. You’re running on fumes.”

“Enough talk.” Revitalized slightly, Midi’s Golden-Red Sword Lights flared as he lunged.

The Saint retaliated with Mind-Related Illusion Formations, dodging the strike. His psychic explosions still failed to shake Midi, while ordinary magical attacks missed their evasive target.

Their flashy but feeble exchanges continued as the Magic Griffin warship advanced toward the graveyard’s heart. Its damaged engines now smoked less—repairs were underway.

“That hidden sky warship at the center?” The Saint goaded. “It’ll be the Blue Truth Sect’s soon. You’ll gain nothing!”

Midi smirked. “You think reaching the center will be that easy?”

A thunderous explosion answered him. Thick smoke and sparks erupted from the warship’s bridge.

“I didn’t come alone.” Midi soared, blocking The Saint’s path. “Without you aboard, my ally’s unstoppable.”

This time, he wasn’t fleeing—he was cutting off The Saint’s retreat.