CHAPTER 446: CHAPTER 444: DEAFETED

Wei Long stood tall at the center of the battered ship, confidence shining in his eyes like fire. The beast-riding guildmaster of China — famed, feared, undefeated in many global skirmishes — rolled his shoulders and smirked at Dayanara across the deck.

"You fight well," he said, circling her slowly. "But this is as far as you go."

Dayanara didn’t flinch. Her breathing was calm, her posture relaxed, her twin metal sticks resting in each hand like they belonged there since birth.

Wei Long rushed in. he slashed his spear downward in a heavy arc, but Dayanara sidestepped, spun low, and sent a rapid strike toward his thigh — one that barely missed its mark.

Their weapons clashed again, sparks flying. He twirled his spear to disarm her — and grabbed one of her metal sticks, gripping it tightly with a victorious grin. "Got you."

But Dayanara... smiled back.

"No," she whispered, "I Got you, Wei Long."

A sudden shift rippled through the weapon in his hand. The stick’s surface rippled like liquid, morphing into scales — and in the next heartbeat, it transformed into a living serpent, its fangs plunging deep into Wei Long’s wrist.

His eyes widened. "W-what—?!"

The venom surged instantly through his veins. He grunted in pain, releasing the serpent as he stumbled backward, his spear clattering on the deck.

"What... is this?" he gasped, falling to one knee, hand pressing to his chest as his vision blurred. His fingers twitched. His legs grew heavy.

Dayanara stepped forward, each boot clicking on the wood, her form towering above him. She pressed one foot on his back, keeping him down gently but firmly.

"What?" she said mockingly. "Can’t handle a little poison?"

Wei Long groaned. "I... I have poison resistance... high class..." He coughed blood into his palm, glaring up at her in disbelief.

"Yes, I saw that," Dayanara replied coolly. "But resistance doesn’t mean immunity—especially to something new."

She crouched beside him and whispered, "I laced that snake with venom from the ’Ulo-ng-Ahas’ — one of the deadliest poisons native to the Philippines. The dose was small at first. Just enough to numb your limbs."

Wei Long struggled to move, his limbs shivering with effort. "Tch... This is just the first effect. It’ll wear off."

"Only if i let you," Dayanara smirked — and the serpent struck again, this time on his shoulder.

Wei Long cried out, his arms completely losing strength. "You...!"

"That one paralyzes," she said, standing and raising her leg. "Sleep it off."

With a powerful kick, she launched him across the ship. His body hit the deck hard and slid to fall.

"WEI LONG!" one of his guildmates screamed and charged forward with a sword raised. But Dayanara turned fast, her eyes flashing — she didn’t need wind or snakes for this one.

With a clean spinning motion, she executed a powerful "Sikaran" kick, a traditional Filipino martial art strike — her heel hitting the attacker’s chin squarely with enough force to lift him off his feet.

THWACK!

He fell in a heap, groaning once before blacking out. Dayanara Cruz stood tall, brushing hair from her face, and raised both sticks again — steel glinting with power and pride.

[DING!]

[China’s "Sky sovereign pact" has been Disqualified]

— Remaining Guilds: 47.

Cheers erupted in different corners of the world, while other ships paused for just a moment to glance at the system log floating above the skies.

The screen in the global broadcast shifted immediately, zooming in on the Philippine flag flapping proudly on a battered ship, smoke still trailing from its edge. And standing near the center, bruised, blood on her cheek and arms, Dayanara Cruz stood like a pillar of iron, her sticks lowered, her chest heaving as she stared out into the chaotic sea.

The camera zoomed in again just as another figure stumbled toward her from behind, blood trickling from her scalp, one arm clearly sprained and dragging behind her like it had been hurt mid-fight.

"Dayanara!"

The woman called out in breathless Tagalog, her voice raspy but fierce.

"Tangina mo, akala ko ikaw pa madadali!"("Damn you, I thought you were done for!")

Dayanara turned, brow lifting at the familiar voice.

Dayanara took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling quickly.

"Kyla... how many members are still standing?" she asked, trying to calm her heartbeat.

Kyla, blood dripping from her arm, looked at her device. "Six. Only six left."

Dayanara frowned, scanning the chaotic battlefield. "We need to hide. We can’t afford more fights. We must make it to Stage Two."

Kyla nodded. They both turned to run, trying to reach their remaining teammates.

But before they could move far, a strong blast of heat and pressure hit them.

They both rolled instinctively. Weapons up. Blocking the sudden strike.

CLANG!

Kyla’s metal stick snapped in half. They both grunted and dropped to one knee. In front of them stood Seoha. Her giant flaming sword rested on her shoulder, smoke rising from the tip.

"Ohhh, sorry~" Seoha said with a mischievous laugh. She glanced around, then casually jumped to the next ship, chasing another fight.

The two girls collapsed backward, "Puta... that’s her, right?! Seoha. The Madqueen of Korea!" Kyla said, still holding the broken piece of her stick.

Dayanara’s knees were shaking. She tried to stand but fell again. "We’re no match to the top rankers..."

"What are you saying?!" Kyla growled. "Seoha is too strong, that’s all. Don’t compare her to Wei Long... Come on, you knew that."

Dayanara nodded slowly. She looked at the burning ships the sky lit up with spells and said quietly, "We just have to survive."

Dayanara and Kyla didn’t waste another second as they helped each other up, bruised and battered, their breath heavy and uneven while they moved through the edge of broken ships, calling out for their remaining teammates who were trying to stay hidden among the wreckage and splintered sails, the cries of magic and steel still echoing across the air.

As they finally found their last four members crouching near a toppled mast, relief briefly crossed their faces—but before anyone could speak, shadows surrounded them, multiple figures stepping out from every direction, blades drawn and eyes wild, a clear sign they were aiming to eliminate the weakened group before Stage Two.