Chapter 1111 Breaking the Stalemate <TOC> Chapter 1113 Heavenly Wrath and Heavenly Jealousy
Translator: SumTLMan
As of this moment, Komodo was still locked in battle with Essex, the only wizard capable of putting it in check. However, Essex’s stamina was diminishing with every passing second. Once he hit rock bottom, Komodo would have nothing to hold it back, and it could then wreak havoc on the iceberg behind him.
As Essex’s phantom black dragon gradually faded into the background, Komodo’s intimidating aura grew, its momentum undiminished and increasingly menacing.
Just when the mood was dipping to its lowest ebb, the man who received the coagulant potion from Mengke turned his gaze towards Komodo.
He rose to his feet and silently advanced towards the heart of the battlefield, as though invisible steps had materialized in the air around him.
The man was inching steadily towards Komodo.
The ethereal, ominous fire pattern in the twilight sky served as his backdrop, accentuating his lean, elongated silhouette.
In that moment, amid that scene, it was as if a picturesque canvas had been unfurled. The man’s silhouette was lonely, yet incredibly powerful. The crimson twilight cast elongated shadows of his figure, while on the other side stood the ghastly, terrifying demon, drenched in blood. Nonetheless, he pressed on, undeterred and resolute.
He stood like a lone warrior on a battlefield, prepared to face a tidal wave of enemy soldiers single-handedly. As the others beat a hasty retreat, he swam against the tide.
Yet, the reality was that the demon he faced was far more terrifying than any horde of soldiers.
Essex was slammed in the chest by a fiery hand from Komodo. While the black dragon’s scales managed to fend off the invasive flames temporarily, the brute force was too overwhelming. With a guttural cry of pain, Essex was thrown back in an arc.
Barely managing to regain his bearings mid-air, Essex arrested his fall. At the same time, he noticed the determined figure striding by his side.
Essex’s vision blurred momentarily. Was someone actually stepping forward to confront Komodo at this juncture? After losing more than a dozen people, the surviving wizards were hesitant to advance, often opting to send in puppet proxies instead.
When Essex got a clear view of the man’s face, his pupils contracted.
“Is it you?” Essex’s voice quivered with an uncanny note of surprise. “Can you hold out?”
Essex posed a question identical to the one Mengke had asked. The response he received was succinct, yet brimming with determination: “Leave it to me.”
The man strode past Essex, continuing his march towards Komodo.
At this point, even Komodo seemed to recognize that its next adversary was not Essex, but this peculiar, lean human.
It didn’t pursue Essex any further, but rather, watched the “new contender” with puzzled curiosity.
For reasons unknown, the figure approaching incited in him a phantasmal illusion of trepidation. Though this man was unmistakably a feeble human, undeniably inferior by at least two levels even when compared to Essex, it was precisely this seemingly weak man who introduced a novel sensation of fear on the battlefield for the first time.
The man appeared steadfast and confident, but alas, his frail physique betrayed him. Midway through his approach, he shivered once again, clamping his mouth in an attempt to suppress what was to come. But ultimately, his efforts proved in vain, as a surge of crimson life-fluid spilled from his lips.
Komodo blinked in astonishment, “Has he begun to bleed without even a scratch from me?”
Onlookers on the floating iceberg could hardly bear to watch, covering their eyes in a display of “I can’t bear this anymore”. The only exception were the members of Frost Moon, their brows furrowed in resigned acceptance, as though accustomed to such bizarre occurrences.
After expelling the blood, the emaciated man, his face ghostly pale, retrieved a coagulating potion gifted by Lord Mengke and gulped it down. The potion flowed into his belly, spreading a warm glow that instantly replenished his physical strength, lost due to excessive blood loss. Gradually, the color returned to his face.
However, the ambiance of a solitary, desperate battle that he had painstakingly evoked was now completely lost. All that remained was a canvas of mockery.
“Who is he, really? Can he even withstand a fight? I fear he might die halfway from bleeding,” questioned a man standing beside Maher. His query resonated with the unspoken concerns of all present.
“His bleeding is a divine retribution. But the reason for such retribution is jealousy from the heavens,” Maher replied without delving into the specifics of “heavenly jealousy.” He continued, “His name is Winchester. Though he is merely an ordinary member of the Frost Moon Guard, he holds another identity: he is the… apprentice of Lord Mengke.”
…
Samantha was a blur of agility as she raced along the wall, her lithe form almost parallel to the ground, displaying no sign of imbalance. She darted steadily amongst the surrounding ruined architecture, leaving behind a cacophony of rumbling echoes.
However, the chaos was not of her making. Rather, it was the result of ferocious tentacles laden with fierce spikes lashing out where she had just been, turning the wall into a series of gaping holes.
If Samantha were a beat slower, her life would be in grave danger.
After completing a lap around the field, she heard a distinctive whistle in her ear, accompanied by the ‘splish-splash’ echoes of falling rain.
Without turning around, Samantha knew all too well what was on her tail.
The whistle approached rapidly, reaching her before she could fully comprehend its speed. “Damn it!” she cursed, the words barely escaping her lips as the peril descended upon her.
Samantha, left with no other option, executed a nimble airborne pirouette, her head pointed down, feet to the sky. With this dance of survival, she landed on the face of a miasmic white umbrella which was hurtling towards her.
The umbrella was in full bloom, twirling fiercely as it whistled through the wind. It was this exact parasol that had been the airborne menace moments before!
Using the umbrella as a springboard, Samantha swiftly launched herself upward, twisting in mid-air. As she hung there, suspended in the open air, her eyes met Canter’s, and she signaled with her hands, a silent question, “Are you ready?”
In response, Canter transformed his physical form into a two-dimensional silhouette. As soon as it took form, the shadow ballooned into a bizarre cubic prison of darkness, trapping the malevolent demon at the center of the arena within its obsidian confines.
“Perfect timing!” Samantha saw her chance, she stretched out her foot, virtually tapping at nothingness, yet changing her direction. Like an arrow let loose from a bow, she flew towards the center of the arena.
As she approached the dark cubic monolith at the heart of the arena, a radiant glass aura enveloped her. The raindrops from the heavens evaporated into mist before they even came into contact with her gleaming shield.
“Glazed Paradise!” Samantha couldn’t hold back her exclamation any longer. Not only did she wish to notify Canter that her attack was imminent, but she also desired to vent her pent-up frustrations.
The world of glazed glass and the shadowy cubic cage melded together flawlessly.
The initial shadowy cube transformed into a glowing obsidian glass, a shroud of darkness illuminated from within.
Samantha landed on the remnants of a crumbling rooftop, while Canter, in the exact moment of the fusion between the glazed world and shadowy cube, rematerialized from shadow to flesh, alighting on a balcony atop another tall building.
The rain continued to pour, yet none of it was able to touch the “Obsidian Glazed Prism” at the heart of the arena.
“Shatter,” Samantha expressed in a voice devoid of any emotion, snapping her fingers.
As her voice fell, a crack appeared on one corner of the Obsidian Glazed Prism. With a thunderous ‘bang’, the Prism shattered into countless shards, each exploding outward, carrying with them countless pieces of severed tentacles.
The tentacles of the female demon were severed in an instant, reduced to half of their original number.
Samantha couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smirk. Who would have thought that her first collaboration with Canter would yield such a formidable spell? This was a revelation Samantha had not anticipated.
It was a battle decidedly in their favor, pushing them to evolve rapidly.
The shards of the Obsidian Glazed Prism scattered amidst the rain. However, within the glittering fragments, Samantha thought she saw the outline of a figure.
Samantha’s hand, previously pushing back her hair, suddenly froze: “Could it be… it’s still alive? Even our combined attack didn’t work?”
Samantha held an unwavering belief in the lethal power of the Obsidian Glazed Prism. It was capable of reaching the power of a third-level true knowledge spell. Under such an onslaught, Samantha thought, even the respected Mengke might choke if he tried to withstand it head-on.
Can it be? The she-demon has actually deflected the attack?
As the shards of Obsidian Glazed Prsm crumbled into dust, the sound of soft, pitter-pattering droplets, intertwined with a woman’s piercing cackle, washed over their senses even before they could process what had happened.
Their eyes fell upon a striking smear of crimson splashed across the heart of the battlefield, a morbid mural of the encounter that had just transpired.
This was all that remained of the she-demon’s once formidable tendrils.
Yet, it was only the tentacles that bore the brunt of the onslaught.
At the epicenter, Nythotep, the demoness in question, stood unscathed, her elegant attire impeccably preserved, her severed appendages regenerating at a pace perceivable to the naked eye.
Earlier, Nythotep had shrouded her countenance behind an umbrella. Now, she leisurely drew it aside.
First came the sight of her white lace glove, and then her face, clear and cold as the purest water, came into view.
“She remains untouched, unscathed!” Samantha hissed through gritted teeth, bitterness etching her voice. Compared to the immaculate Nythotep, she herself was a disheveled mess; her once resplendent dress, likened to glimmering glass, was now marred with a tear, revealing her porcelain-like legs.
“It seems I must detest all women wielding umbrellas the most,” Samantha’s eyes flickered with a burning hatred, “Be it Flora or you, Nythotep!”
Nythotep met Samantha’s words with a silence that echoed her amusement. Their unexpected coordinated strike had certainly taken her aback, particularly the impeccable synchronicity they had achieved in such a brief window of time. Even more so, the power of their combined spell surpassed her expectations.
Had it been anyone else, even Baphomet, renowned for his unparalleled physical prowess, they would likely have suffered significant damage.
But they crossed paths with her. To pose a threat to her in this downpour, they would need to overwhelm her by a whole realm.
Confident as she was, Nythotep knew bringing down these two wizards in short order was no mean feat.
“It seems I will have to drain them of their energy first,” Nythotep mused, just as her eyes in the sky relayed news of a sudden disturbance.
A shift in the skies? Could there be another anomaly, other than the foolish Baphomet being blasted away?
Did Minotaur and Eudecernos run into trouble too?
Nythotep’s gaze darted upwards, scrutinizing the hovering ice.
Upon discerning the reality of the situation, she was taken aback: What’s going on here? What exactly happened?
Chapter 1111 Breaking the Stalemate <TOC> Chapter 1113 Heavenly Wrath and Heavenly Jealousy