Chapter 975: Act 147 – Slashing
From the moment the witch Merilietra summoned the divine spear Leidanar to the time Brendel activated his fervor talent, it felt lengthy, yet it was merely a blink of an eye, akin to the time required for a clock’s second hand to move from one to two. During this fleeting moment, Romaine cast her spell, unleashing a golden column of fire that descended from the heavens, piercing through the castle and striking the witch. Simultaneously, the binding spell of the fourth witch was just forming, traversing the chaotic magical currents along a specific path through the short corridor, coming before Romaine.
Then, nothing happened. The spell seemed like an illusion, passing directly through Romaine’s body without effect. The witch who cast the spell stood frozen, visibly seeing a massive phantom forming behind Romaine. The phantom was of a tall woman with flowing white hair, who gazed at her with gentle eyes, raising a finger to her lips and speaking with a voice that resonated deep within her heart:
“Your magic cannot harm me, my child.”
“Witch… Witch Queen?”
Behind the witch, the natural ruler of the witch kingdom Burnoson, the wielder of authority upheld by strength and majesty derived from absolute dominion over sorcery; the first witch queen Meibelle, who wove all truths, stood in this near-divine realm where mortal sorcery held no sway. Time froze at this moment, the spellcasting witch was rendered speechless and motionless, like a puppet, unaware that no one noticed this subtle detail at the corner of the battlefield.
Flour’s long hair flew as the flames stirred the air, lifting the Wild Elves’ strands like invisible wings that lifted her off the ground. Her flowing garments danced, reflecting the golden flames in her emerald eyes as she lightly touched the ground and turned around—
At this moment, Brendel and Merilietra’s battle had just begun.
“Blasphemer,” Merilietra lifted the divine spear Leidanar, the icy spear surrounded by frigid winds hovering a foot away from her palm. Her voice was filled with emptiness and majesty, as if the spirits of twenty-two previous witches of lies descended upon her, their combined voices resonating, producing a roar from the giant Milco: “Die!”
The entire corridor began to freeze at a visible speed, the bricks creaking, cracking, and splintering, until they were covered with a layer of white frost that solidified into ice and snow. A gust of icy wind swept through the castle, bringing a chill that seeped into everyone’s hearts.
Brendel stepped back, gripping his sword with both hands, pointing the blade forward in an attacking stance.
He felt a twinge of regret; Sibers’s sword was still in ruin, usable only occasionally. If only he could wield two at once, he could unleash the true power of the Frost Earth Guardian.
But for now, this was enough—
Merilietra thrust the spear forward without any elaborate effects, dazzling light, or fierce winds—a plain blue ray shot forth. When it traveled about a third of the way, it struck what seemed to be an invisible wall, shattering in all directions with a deafening boom, generating a circular shockwave that swept through, drowning out all surrounding sounds.
In a false silence, a brilliant blue light shower erupted, advancing forward. It fragmented walls, shattering pillars and reducing masonry to dust. After devastation, the airborne debris was overtaken by the frozen world, a vast sheet of ice advancing along the devastated ground, walls, and ruins, forming countless sharp ice columns.
Then came the sound—an ear-piercing shriek that seemed to pierce eardrums, roaring and tearing through everything, mixing with waves of pressure.
After the explosion—
The corridor where Brendel and the others stood was the first to be hit. Following the explosion, the corridor was utterly annihilated; remnants of wood and stone hung in the air, wrapped in thick ice. Half of the castle in that direction had vanished. However, the power of the divine spear Leidanar was far from over; the traces of destruction continued to extend from the explosion’s radiance, dismantling the estate and path leading to Fatan Port, now completely nonexistent.
Gazing toward that direction revealed a vast world of snow; the ground blanketed in white, large flakes drifting down, while walls, houses, streets, and the harbor formed a massive empty passage.
Logically, after such a strike, Brendel and the others should have perished. Merilietra thought the same; this was a full-force attack from Leidanar. At a time like this, Koha, the eldest daughter of Echis, had also been gravely injured, causing the spear to shatter. Such a blow was among the most powerful even in the Battle of Dusk. No matter how powerful Brendel was, escaping would have been impossible under such an assault.
Yet, when the icy dust settled, Brendel, Romaine, and Flour reappeared as if unharmed, standing at the other end of the corridor.
Not a single scratch marred their bodies, not even the corners of their garments.
Then Merilietra witnessed the astonishing sword strike.
Brendel was still forty feet away, maintaining his attacking posture, unmoving, yet the sword light had already reached Merilietra. The dark blade of light reflected in the depths of the witch of lies’ eyes, like a cliff looming across the sky; it was neither a cliff nor a crack, but a blade coming to deliver judgment. Merilietra felt a chill at her neck, her vision ascending into the air, spinning as she saw Brendel’s figure gradually fade, ultimately disappearing, leaving her with the chilling gaze of his cold, merciless eyes.
This was the Flashing Blade, and also the Nine Luminaries of the Wind Queen.
This… was impossible!
Brendel’s figure flickered, reappearing behind Merilietra and her four witches. The four witches instinctively reached for their throats like trying to grasp the intangible air but merely clutched the hot blood gushing from their necks. Four headless corpses staggered, swayed, and then collapsed, their heads rolling along the frozen ground with eyes reflecting deep unwillingness.
In Burnoson’s dark night sky, the celestial realm of the sages became witness to four shining meteors streaking across the starry night.
“What… is happening?”
In the Northern Kingdom, Burnoson, the Whistling Throne—
Upon the throne sat a woman in her forties, dressed in a blue gown, staring in disbelief at her shattered crystal ball, motionless. In her melting silver eyes rested disbelief. With a shattering sound, the crystal ball rolled off its pedestal and crashed upon the frozen ground, splintering into countless star-like fragments.
At that moment.
In nearly all the wizard towers across Vaunte, numerous astrologers stood up in shock before their crystal balls, casting astonished glances toward an eastern direction. In the Hall of All Things, which bore the epic of azure, the ‘Mirror of the World’ tasked with monitoring the Sea of Magic groaned under the burden, vibrating with thunderous tremors, while in a faraway evergreen holy temple, a distant gaze observed this direction with complex emotions.
Then came a long sigh.
The sage of mountains and earth, Erlandta, quietly closed his eyelids.
In the Silent Sea, nearly all fishermen gazed up in terror, staring at the darkening purple sky. Above, the originally clear sky was now completely obscured—the saintly sea, untouched by storms, gathered clouds from all directions, while a colossal sound echoed faintly, as if a slumbering existence had begun to awaken after a millennium.
In the Silver Alliance, the Tower of Ten Thousand Books, alarms rang out simultaneously. Holy managers cloaked in silver, swarming like ants, scurried across the ivory bridges connecting the 431 levels of bookshelves.
Just moments prior, the Bud people noticed their monitoring towers sprawled across the edges of the civilized world lighting up simultaneously like a constellation of stars.
The millennial tide was shaking the foundations of the entire civilization.
Far away, in Fanzan, a light gate was gradually opening before the former Emperor and Pope. This elderly high ruler wore a respectful expression, bowing slowly, trembling:
“Your presence illuminates the empire, Sage Lord.”
“No need for such formalities.”
“Sage Lord, this… is indeed the tide of millennia.”
Saint Ausoor, at the Star Moon Temple, had long been stunned, her jaw dropped, watching twenty-five shadows descend before her, as if entranced, she spoke uncontrollably: “Welcome back… Wind Queen… My Lord.”
Fate’s trajectory was skewing.
Yet the two involved were unaware.
At the very moment the four witches fell, Brendel swiftly swung his sword, sending a ray of light from his blade that accurately struck a broken wall beside him, creating a deafening explosion as the remaining half of the wall collapsed, stone flying in all directions. However, a dark figure suddenly rolled out from the empty space—a blood-soaked, tattered Merilietra, who was previously beheaded; her severed head had transformed into a headless black cat lying in a pool of blood.
Brendel knew he could not kill Merilietra with a single sword strike, especially in a dream dominated by her.
Yet at that moment, Merilietra no longer had the strength to continue fighting. The divine spear Leidanar was nowhere to be seen as she lay disheveled, resembling a lost dog. Dark blood flowed from her body, pooling beneath her and gradually freezing, forming a bizarre pattern. Breathing heavily, she lifted her head to look at Brendel with an expression of disbelief:
“Why… how could you not be dead?!”
At this moment, she was exhausted and seemingly spent; this obsession alone held her together enough to grit her teeth and shout these words.
Brendel glanced at her, hesitated, and quietly withdrew the Sword of the Earth: “Those who understand you best, besides yourself, are your enemies.”
“Enemies?” Merilietra faltered a bit.
A cold voice interjected, answering for Brendel: “How could I suffer the same injury under this spear again?”
A girl’s silhouette seemed to appear out of thin air, as the cold surrounding her gradually dissipated, revealing flowing dark hair and a diamond-shaped crystal shimmering on her forehead. The girl looked down at Merilietra with a detached, emotionless gaze, speaking calmly:
“Moreover, a part of Milco’s power is still held in my hands.”
Upon seeing this girl, the inheritor of the Moon of Lies, the witch of deceit, and the believer of the shadowy Koha, Merilietra trembled uncontrollably.
…
In the Kingdom of Shadows, on the Solitary Hill, within the domain of Jin Hai, the Sword Saint Mephistopheles suddenly paused, then laid down his sword. The desperate witch Agathlys unleashed an unreserved barrage of attacks upon him, akin to a constellation of stars; yet when these assaults touched the gray realm surrounding Mephistopheles, they were all assimilated, vanishing into nothing. Noticing this, Agathlys’s eyes flashed with a strange color, her brow slightly raised as she took a step forward but, after a moment of contemplation, withdrew her hand and ceased her assault.
In an instant, the fierce battle from both sides came to an abrupt halt.
“The Gray Sword Saint lives up to his reputation,” Agathlys remarked casually, her tone carrying an air of haughty superiority.
Mephistopheles paid her no heed, merely glancing at the Queen before responding: “It seems your plans have some flaws.”
Constance’s expression darkened slightly; through her connection with the Witch Queen, she had been aware of everything that had just transpired. Yet, she merely scoffed softly, her eyes fixed intently on Mephistopheles, as though looking for a flaw in those gray eyes. If she were unaware of having fallen into the opposing side’s trap, she wouldn’t be Constance at all.
“Great Duke, it seems you were aware of this outcome all along?”
Mephistopheles remained silent.
“How did you know all of this? Did someone leak information? Was it Anwei?” Constance shook her head, “That’s impossible; she could not betray that person. Yet she alone knows all of this—who told you everything?”
Mephistopheles appeared to take pleasure in the Queen’s confusion. He turned his gaze back to Constance and smiled: “You’re not the only clever person in this world, Constance.”
…
