<strong>1265 Warrior</strong>
“Attack!”
Upon hearing the Chief’s words, Derrick froze for a moment before instinctively spreading his arms.
During this process, his vision blurred and he let out an extremely repressed voice from the depths of his throat.
A blob of light covered in holy mes descended out of thin air, devouring the figures of Dark Angel Sasrir and Colin Iliad.
Before the st of light exploded, Derrick pulled back his arm, forming a bright white and pure “Unshadowed Spear” in his palm.
Amidst the crackling sounds, the long spear of light tore through the holy mes and urately hit the evil spirit’s head.
Dazzling light burst out,pletely covering the entire area. Even the crazed Klein couldn’t avoid it, as he was too close to it. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, his face contorted into a grimace. He felt as though his Worms of Spirit were evaporating one after another. The connection between the sphemy te and the True Creator’s power of corruption had been greatly purified before they could fully be established.
The sun seemed to rise in the sky. Dark Angel Sasrir’s indistinct figure appeared, twisting and distorting amidst the blinding white light and holy mes, melting away.
Then, the shadow that covered the walls, stone pirs, and tiles began to disintegrate, revealing inches of orange-red light.
The pce hidden in the residence of the Giant King finally failed to sustain its existence in the real world. It no longer blocked out the influence of the outside world.
This also meant that the special evil spirit that had lost contact with Chaos Sea had truly been cleansed.
Just as the shadow pce began to copse withoutpletely disintegrating, an invisible force finally pierced through the barrier, causing a minute amount of it to descend. This caused the corrupting nature gathered inside Klein’s body to increase in intensity!
They protruded out from his chest, turning into a ck ball of flesh.
The flesh immediately broke free from Klein’s body, severing all invisible connections with him. It quickly squirmed and grew, turning into a gigantic shadow hand. It followed the illusory “light” between itself and the first sphemy te, and it grabbed the item.
At the same time, in the ruins of the battlefield of the gods’ dream world, in front of the projection of the Giant King’s residence.
Dressed in a pointed hat and a ssic ck robe, Amon sat on the tall, grayish-white railing, with “His” back facing the orange-red path that separated the clouds. “He” leisurely looked at the grayish-blue door covered with golden nails; it was a mystery as to how long “He” had been waiting there for.
Suddenly, “He” adjusted the monocle on “His” right eye and easily jumped down the railing, arriving at the door of the Giant King’s residence’s projection.
“The power of Chaos Sea is beginning to fade. I can use the ‘bug’ in all of this to directly enter...” As “He” smiled, “He” reached out “His” right hand and pressed it on the door’s shadow.
“His” figure immediately softened and lost its corporeal feeling before “He” entered the door like a stream of light.
...
Backlund, somewhere on the battlefield.
With short blond hair and dark green eyes, Crestet Cesimir genuflected on the ground, stabbing a pure white bone sword, that wasn’t more than one meter long in length, in front of him to support himself.
His body was covered with charred holes and cracks that went straight through his body. His teeth were protruding and sharp, like that of a beast.
This high-ranking deacon, whose consciousness was beginning to blur, struggled to shift his gaze from the weak enemy who wasn’t far away towards the sky.
The orange sunset had partially invaded the dark night.
Crestet Cesimir tried his best to pull out his bone sword and stand up to fight. He wanted to be a Nightwatcher to the very end, but his arm trembled violently as his breathing weakened.
In the astral world, in an endless and silent darkness filled with moon flowers and night vani.
Suddenly, orange beams of light shone into the kingdom, causing a portion of the area to return to dusk. One by one, the nts withered.
In the deste dusk, a gigantic mountain-like figure walked out. “His” limbs were abnormally long, and “He” wore tattered silver armor. “His” face was covered by a helmet’s visor, only revealing a blob of orange light.
“He” held an exaggerated sword in “His” hand, causing the tip to naturally hang down, touching the dark “ground.”
As the terrifying giant walked forward, step by step, the sword continued to be dragged across the darkness, causing the ground to split apart as dusk froze.
Deep in the darkness, an equallyrge figure pulled out a long sickle.
“She” was wearing a ck dress that wasyered but notplicated. It was adorned with countless resplendent lights, as though they were stars that dotted the night sky.
Near “Her” ribs and waist, two pairs of arms grew out. Their surfaces were covered in short deep-ck hair.
In “Her” six arms, two carried the huge ck sickle that appeared heavy. Another two hands held a crimson “moon.” Out of the hands “She” had left, one was empty, while the other held an ancient essory forged from gold.
The essory looked like a slender bird with pale-white mes surrounding it. Within its bronze eyes, there wereyers of light, forming numerous illusory doors.
The giant wasn’t surprised by such a scene. The speed of “His” stride sped up, gradually approaching that of a charge.
“He” dragged “His” sword against his surroundings which were a mixture of darkness and dusk, producing glimmers of the pure light of dawn.
At this moment, the moon flowers and night vani to the side suddenly grew in size, growing wildly. Soon, they resembled trees that had lived in a primitive forest for more than a thousand years. They were densely packed, blocking out the “sky.”
Amongst these trees, a figure twined by deep green vines and adorned with various herbs and flowers appeared.
“She” was also as huge as a mountain and had a voluptuous figure. “Her” dress fluttered as “She” carried an illusory baby.
The moment the figure descended, “She” followed the sunset giant and flitted towards the humanoid demonic wolf that was dragging a huge ck sickle.
...
In the pce where shadows were falling apart, although some of the corruption had left Klein’s body, making him no longer need to worry about anytent danger in this aspect, this was equivalent to culling many of his Worms of Spirit. He couldn’t help but let out a low gasp as transparent and twisted maggots crawled out of his writhing face. They had mysterious patterns on them, and his mind was like ake that had a boulder thrown into it. He was momentarily unable to calm down.
At that moment, a familiar figure appeared in his eyes which became bloodshot due to the pain.
It was the Angel of Time, Amon, who wore a monocle and a pointed hat.
Amon smiled at him, scaring him into having the thought of returning to Sefirah Castle immediately.
Although this would suck for The Sun, Klein felt that he would have the ability to save him due to the angel powers from being in Sefirah Castle. After all, the influences from the outside world could now enter this area.
But in a blink of an eye, the Angel of Time cast “His” gaze towards the grayish-white sphemy te. “He” cast it towards the shadow hand that was saturating and growing stronger with the copse of the nd of slumber.”
Amon immediately raised “His” right hand and adjusted “His” right eye’s monocle.
The crystal monocle turned dark, as though it was mixed with countless colors in an indescribable manner.
An illusory, terrifying, tumultuous “sea” appeared in front of Amon.
This sphemer had released some unknown power “He” had stolen from somewhere at some point in time! Or perhaps, it was some power of convergence!
The sphemy te suddenly vibrated and emitted a buzzing sound as though it was alive.
It broke free from the remaining “light” that wasn’t stable enough between the shadow hand, and it threw itself at Amon!
Klein, who had just recovered from the pain from his fear and horror, couldn’t believe his eyes as they dted.
The first sphemy te actually didn’t choose the True Creator of the Hanged Man pathway, and instead sought refuge with the Marauder pathway’s Angel of Time!
After a momentary daze, he vaguely understood the whole story.
Amon’s true body has wandered the Forsaken Land of the Gods for more than a thousand years before entering Chernobyl, doing so in search of the history from the Second all the way to before the First Epoch. “He” must’ve hovered at the edge of Chaos Sea, and had done some dangerous research. “He” had “stolen” some traits, and now, “He” is only using the release of this stolen trait to attract the sphemy te.
Simply put, this King of Angels had prepared for this for a very long time. As for the True Creator, “He” is unable topletely descend. “He” has to wait for the Dark Angel’s nd of slumber” topletely copse.
But the problem is, why would Amon steal the first sphemy te? It’s useless for “Him”... “He” has no way of transferring to the Spectator, Reader, Tyrant, Sun, and Hanged Man pathways! Could it be just because it’s fun? When the deities and “His” brother are plotting for this sphemy te, “He” suddenly intervenes and runs away? But isn’t it more important for “Him” to capture me? As Klein remained puzzled with Amon’s goals, he slowly retreated, opening his eyes wider, trying his best to pry into the secrets on the surface of the sphemy te. He wanted to memorize the potion form he needed.
“Sequence 1: Attendant of Mysteries...” As soon as the corresponding words entered his eyes, Amon reached out with “His” left hand and grabbed the sphemy te. Then, “He” suddenly turned around and pressed “His” right hand on the grayish-blue door that was still covered with a small amount of shadows.
The figure wearing a pointed hat and a ssic ck robe immediately turned illusory as “He” tore through the door and vanished.
The shadow hand which was partially formed by Klein’s corruption rapidly expanded amidst the copse of the nd of slumber.” Finally, it turned into a ck shadow and chased after Amon, rushing out of the closed door.
In the next second, all the shadows disappeared. The orange-red light illuminated the pce that the Giant King once lived in.
In front of the iron-ck throne, on the tform that was illuminated by the light of dusk, Colin Iliad’s figure appeared.
He was wearing a tattered silver armor, revealing several old scars on his face. He sat there quietly, like a warrior who had just finished hisst battle.
His two swords had already crumbled, and he had stopped breathing. However, Klein could sense that there were still remnants of his will and psyche. The former couldn’t bear to just dissipate without delivering hisst words.
At the bottom of the stairs, Derrick saw this scene. With his eyes red, he ran closer and stumbled, acting nothing like a demigod.
He quickly knelt beside Colin Iliad and shouted, his voice going soft, “Chief...”