Orlan gripped a katana in each hand, parrying Eladin's strike with both blades held horizontally. Ivankov and the others were stunned—Orlan had kept this skill hidden.
In truth, Orlan concealed far more than one trick.
Constructing the Hextech flying gate was essential for evacuation, and distributing weapons and setting traps were part of the plan. Beyond that, Orlan saw no need to reveal everything, as if reciting his entire history.
Even his allies were unaware of his full capabilities, let alone the ignorant Celestial Dragons.
Eladin, seeing his attack blocked, grew intrigued.
Unlike the elite Knights of God led by Gringo, Eladin wasn't even a reserve. He paled in comparison to Gringo in every way except bravado.
Yet, unlike the bubble-helmeted Celestial Dragons, Eladin was a capable member under normal circumstances.
A resisting prey only heightened his thrill as a hunter.
"Never imagined a backwater like the West Sea would produce rebels capable of entertaining me," Eladin sneered. "If those fools had chased you, you might've succeeded—what a pity."
The Celestial Dragons weren't fools and could speak coherently. Intimidating before striking was their tactic.
"You should feel honored. I'm in a rush, so I won't prolong your torment."
Today, however, Eladin misjudged.
Orlan scoffed. "Your kind redefines arrogance. What makes you so confident in this situation?"
"Strength, of course! You're just a lowly insect. Defying a god seals your fate!"
Eladin pressed harder with his blades. While lower-tier Celestial Dragons were dim, the upper echelon retained basic logic. They wouldn't pit high-bounty pirates against them as prey.
The Grand Line and Red Earth Continent divided the Four Seas, creating vast combat disparities. New World pirates could dominate the Four Seas effortlessly.
Thus, Eladin never anticipated strong foes in the Valley of the Gods and initially held back. But as he increased his force, the results fell short.
"As expected, anything dares call itself a god," Orlan muttered.
His armor's core activated, blue energy surging through his exoskeleton.
Output: 100%.
Valoran's peaceful regions belied its dangers—roaming darkin, hidden demons, the void's gaze, and Targon's protoss. Though a Piltover researcher, Orlan valued personal strength. Fortunately, his abilities granted him exceptional "teachers."
"If scum like you can be gods, today I'll become a godslayer."
Eladin's mask hid his expression, but Orlan didn't care.
With the exoskeleton's power, Orlan deflected Eladin's blades and slashed diagonally upward with both katanas.
Godslayer!
Two slashes cut through the air, the surrounding airflow forming an invisible barrier that disrupted Eladin's movements.
Strands of hair floated down as Eladin's mask split, revealing his ashen face.
"You made me breathe this filthy air!" Eladin roared.
Swish!
Orlan's blade grazed his ear. Ignoring Eladin's fury, Orlan closed in. As his right katana slashed, his left stabbed.
Eladin dodged the slash but failed to counter, his strike parried by Orlan's blade.
After several clashes, Orlan pulled back his swords, then lunged, unleashing wind blades that felled two trees behind Eladin and gouged the rock wall.
Jade Slash!
"Flying Slash? No, its power's too weak. How can a mere rabbit wield this?" Eladin stammered.
"Meeting a Celestial Dragon like you is a treat," Orlan taunted. "At least I don't need to dumb down my insults for you."
The airflow around the blades faded. This was a unique sword technique.
Orlan's teacher wasn't human but Yongen, a spirit from the spiritual realm—brother to Yasuo, who vanished daily in the canyon.
Orlan frequented this realm in dreams. Years ago, he traded a secret about Yasuo for Yongen's swordsmanship lessons.
Unlike Yasuo's wind-controlling style, Yongen's techniques suited his "dead" state, and he agreed to teach Orlan.
Seeing Eladin's position, Orlan paused the fight—the setup was perfect.
Bang! Bang!
Two muffled shots rang out. A sturdy rope net launched from the side. During their close-quarters duel, others couldn't intervene. Now, with distance opened, Ivankov and the team acted.
"Petty tricks! You call yourself a swordsman?" Eladin mocked.
The net seemed slow to him. Only Orlan's blades posed a threat; the others' attacks were negligible.
As Eladin raised his arm to cut the net, an unseen force froze him. His body locked in place, he was ensnared and fell, pinned to the ground.
Metal claws rose around him, anchoring him to a metallic disc.
A gravity field, inspired by Victor's research, restricted movement and induced dizziness.
"Swordsman? I just know enough swordplay for self-defense. Why would I fight scum like you fairly? This is your game—today, you're the prey."