Chapter 1667
Joe clutched his chest and roared, “Walter, stand down!”
However, Walter completely ignored him, his eyes blazing with malicious intent that seemed almost tangible. His outstretched claws viciously grabbed toward Andrew’s skull.
Andrew instantly turned around. The incoming aura stung his skin like icy needles but also sparked a wave of killing intent deep in his chest. He locked eyes with the charging Walter and was about to meet the blow head-on.
Suddenly, a small figure shot out in front of him.
A flying kick slammed into Walter’s ribs, intercepting the attack mid-air.
Andrew blinked in surprise. “Shiloh?”
Shiloh’s long hair, tied behind her head, floated as if caught in an unseen breeze. She said indifferently, “You’re hurt. Rest for a bit. I’ll deal with this shameless castrato.”
In that moment, Shiloh’s entire demeanor shifted, appearing cold, sharp, and ruthless. Her petite body launched into the air, soaring about five meters before closing the distance again.
Then came a flurry of attacks, and blows rained down like a sudden storm, each one fast, fierce, and precise.
She snapped, “You ignorant old freak, how dare you lay a hand on Andrew. Die!”
Walter hissed like a cornered viper, his twisted old face contorted with rage. His fingers curled into claws, summoning a web of shadowy afterimages that blocked every strike Shiloh threw.
This was Andrew’s first time seeing Shiloh unleash her true martial prowess. Every move she made flowed like water: soft and fluid, yet unbelievably fast and devastating.
Moreover, her technique was not just powerful; it carried something different that Andrew could not quite name.
There was a Torasesy rhythm to it—peaceful, yet unstoppable.
It was the embodiment of water, gentle in appearance but capable of wearing down mountains.
Walter, by contrast, was wild and ferocious. Despite his normally soft voice and sluggish demeanor, his martial style was all brute-force savagery.
Walter slammed into a weapons rack, shredding a full row of long swords and knives like they were made of paper and tin.
Yet Shiloh’s face remained completely serene, still as a calm lake. She chopped down toward Walter’s shoulder, changing direction midway to lightly slap the side of his face with the back of her hand.
A hidden burst of energy surged through the blow, turning Walter’s sickly pale complexion bright red. His head snapped sideways, and his entire body tumbled toward the ground.
Shiloh flicked her foot, and a performance sword suddenly bounced up, waiting there as if she had foreseen it, for Walter’s head to crash into it!
‘Damn it! Her martial arts skills are unbelievable!’ Walter thought, pure fear gripping his heart for the first time.
The head of the Driscoll family’s Shadow Division was frightened by Shiloh’s techniques.
Everyone watching was stunned into silence. They might not have understood the intricacies of the fight, but even a layman could tell that Walter was starting to panic. Meanwhile, only Andrew and Joe were able to follow the true depth of the exchange.
Andrew’s mind sparked with a single thought. ‘Shiloh’s foundation in martial arts is terrifyingly deep. I don’t think I could beat her if I don’t unlock my second seal, or maybe even the third.’
The realization sent a chill down his spine.
No one knew what Joe was thinking. However, his eyes were lit with awe; more than that, they were filled with obsession.
He watched Shiloh’s small frame as she danced through Walter’s hurricane of attacks. Every move was graceful, evasive, and unbothered, like a butterfly drifting between blades of wind.
Shiloh pressed her palms softly against Walter’s chest. They looked gentle, but the impact blew open twin holes in the back of his coat, splitting it apart like a firecracker had gone off inside it.
“You filthy brat! I’ll kill you!” Walter roared, blood gushing from his mouth as he raised both fists.
With a snarl, he slammed down toward Shiloh’s skull like rolling thunder.
However, Shiloh stepped back, calmly responding with one hand while her other traced a mysterious arc. With two intersecting movements, Walter found himself with nowhere to apply his strength, swaying like a drunk man and nearly losing his footing.