The Great Dao is vast, and people like Ichiro Carmichael studied music in his early years.

Through sound, he manipulated every blade of grass and tree in this world.

To be more accurate, his way of creating illusions, compared to the High Priest of the Ghost Martial Tribe, is much weaker.

The latter is a true master of mental control.

Even things unseen or unheard by those being controlled can appear in their dreams.

Yet.

Ichiro Carmichael studied under the great music master Timothy Carmichael in his early years.

Through years of cultivation, he had long become a renowned expert in Demarco Mount.

Therefore, when he fought with all his might, he could also conjure illusions before Julius Reed.

"I, Ichiro Carmichael, with a melody from my flute, can create three thousand great worlds! Young man, you shouldn't be so arrogant!" Ichiro spoke without interrupting his flute playing.

Mighty horses charging?

Julius Reed shook his head and drew the yin-yang from his waist.

He raised his sword.

His wrist trembled slightly.

Buzz!

Centered at the sword, a shockwave exploded directly!

Like tossing a heavy bomb onto the calm surface of a lake!

In a brief moment!

A wave of sound swept in!

Boom!

Ichiro, who was playing the flute, was knocked backward, heavily crashing to the ground, with blood continuously flowing from the corner of his mouth.

"No... impossible! Who are you, and why can you break through my ten-sided ambush!"

He couldn't believe it!

Or rather, it was unbelievable!

Before coming, Ichiro thought that his intervention was akin to using an ox cleaver to kill a chicken.

Over-qualified for the task.

But now, his confidence was starting to waver.

As the sound wave exploded, those Boulevard martial artists also emerged from the illusion.

Their gaze towards Julius Reed had completely changed.

The way of music is none other than using spiritual power fluctuations.

But at the moment when the sword rang, the spiritual power in the entire area was directly shaken apart!

Ichiro not only couldn't control the music but instead suffered backlash!

"You shouldn't have come." Julius Reed carried his sword, step by step walking towards Ichiro.

His status had merely changed, but it caused those usually timid, falsely flattering people to reveal their true faces.

Julius Reed felt it was worthwhile.

He couldn't have imagined that Ichiro, who always praised him day after day, would be so unwavering in betrayal.

Very resolute.

"Still fighting?" Julius Reed raised his sword, pointing at him.

"I, Ichiro Carmichael, although famed for music, my skills are far beyond that!"

Ichiro stood up from the ground, wiped the blood at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, his eyes carrying a chill.

"Dean."

Julius Reed did not make a move, but instead turned around and looked at Brant Fairbanks: "I can't beat this person, will you?"

With these words.

Everyone was stunned.

Including Ichiro.

Can't beat?

But quickly, he turned from astonishment to anger!

What does it mean?

Treating him like a commodity?

Passing around?

He, Ichiro, is one of the three priests of Demarco Mount, with quite the fame.

Being teased like this, his heart was already burning with rage!

"Fine, I'll go."

And Brant Fairbanks instantly understood his disciple's thoughtful intention.

As the dignified dean of Ocean Academy, he was made ineffectual by one person's illusion.

If this spreads, it's shameful.

Outsiders wouldn't remember how valiant Brant Fairbanks was before, wouldn't remember what victories he led.

Nor would they remember his domineering presence, forcefully vanquishing enemies.

People would only spread, only remember that Brant Fairbanks was saved by his disciple, almost killed by enemies.

Embarrassed and returning in defeat.

Such a chance to disgrace Ocean Academy would surely be seized by Han Caldwell.

But if the flute-playing man in front of him were slain by Brant Fairbanks?

The result would be different.

No matter what, the martial artists present were all trapped in the illusion.

Judging by the result alone, Brant Fairbanks was already invincible.

"Mm." As Julius Reed and Brant Fairbanks brushed past each other, he whispered, "Leave me a living person."

"Understood!"

Brant Fairbanks felt inexplicably touched.

With such a good disciple, surely he would let him die a comfortable death in the future.

"Excessive bullying, excessive bullying!"

Ichiro, in a rage, swung the flute, directly throwing it towards Brant Fairbanks!

He was a martial artist, though he practiced music, his physique was equally strong.

In a brief confrontation, Ichiro, heavily injured, was knocked flying.

Brant Fairbanks was, after all, the dean of Ocean Academy, in terms of strength, completely overwhelming Ichiro.

It was only because he was caught off guard, coupled with the inhalation of large quantities of drugs, that he initially stumbled.

"If the mountain doesn't turn, the waters will, we'll meet again another day!" Seeing he couldn't win, Ichiro directly threw a ball of white smoke and swiftly disappeared!

"Trying to leave?"

Having suffered a great loss, Brant Fairbanks couldn't possibly let him leave!

In a brief moment, sword qi like a meteor shower ravaged the sky!

Directly exploding towards the position of the white smoke!

Thud!

Ichiro, covered in blood, fell to the ground, gasping heavily.

"Defeated?"

On the stand, Marco Jackson was instantly bewildered.

Such a good situation, how could it suddenly turn into defeat?

Previously, it was clearly an absolute suppression, wasn't it?

"Chief Jacob Jackson, I have some matters in the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance, I shall take my leave first." The envoy from Demarco Mount wasn't foolish, seeing Ichiro defeated in such a manner, could minor the White Dragon Alliance hinder those Boulevard thugs?

The best strategy among thirty-six stratagems is escape.

"Halt!" Marco Jackson's face immediately turned gloomy.

The Grandmasters of the White Dragon Alliance instantly blocked the envoy's path.

"Chief Jacob Jackson, what do you mean?" The envoy had only brought a few attendants along, because he was accompanied by Ichiro Carmichael, not bringing any masters.

Now being stopped, he couldn't leave.

"To oppose Boulevard is because my White Dragon Alliance helps your Demarco Mount. But now, you want to just walk away? What about me? What about the White Dragon Alliance? What about my people!"

Marco Jackson jabbed his finger at the envoy's chest, questioning sternly!

"What do you mean? Chief Jacob Jackson, the matter of killing your father has nothing to do with me. Besides, to be enemies with Boulevard is your own decision, isn't it? Now you're blaming me instead? You better think clearly, daring to obstruct the envoy from Demarco Mount is a capital offense!"

The envoy showed no fear!

He was from Demarco Mount, used to being arrogant.

Facing such a minor Alliance chief, he genuinely didn't care.

"Fine!"

Marco Jackson drew the longsword from his waist.

"What are you doing! Marco Jackson, I'm warning you, if I..."

Marco Jackson swung his sword!

Directly chopping off the envoy's head.

The head fell, blood flowed abundantly.

"Immediately find a box and pack the head for me. Additionally, take out all my White Dragon Alliance's treasures and prepare to surrender!"

Marco Jackson paced continuously.

"Alliance Hierarch, three minutes ago we received word, your younger brother has already taken the treasures and quietly left the alliance." A martial general spoke.

"What?" Marco Jackson sat directly in the chair, bewildered.

...

"A warrior may be killed but not humiliated!"

The severely injured Ichiro was held by Brant Fairbanks, incessantly shouting.

He was in too much pain.

Thirteen wounds pierced by sword qi on his body, blood kept flowing.

With every movement, it was heart-wrenching pain.

Thud!

Brant Fairbanks walked to Julius Reed and threw Ichiro to the ground: "Take care of him."

After speaking, he turned his head to the side and spat at Ichiro.

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