Chapter 647: The Light’s Gift
In the Church District of Northern Tivyán, amidst the gray sky, an intense battle raged on. During the previous skirmish, the Aetherial soldier Harold had maintained the upper hand, leveraging his aerial and ranged advantages to press the ground-dwelling Fear-eating Demon Wolf Duval, inflicting considerable damage. The strong winds had stripped away chunks of Duval’s flesh, depleting a significant portion of his spirituality. However, since Duval had come to Tivyán to cause trouble, he had prepared for encounters with Aetherial soldiers employing the Red Tier wind techniques. In a surprise attack utilizing his splitting ability, he managed to inflict some impact on Harold.
Facing the two split demon wolves descending, Harold, hovering in mid-air with a pale expression, quickly affixed a sigil to himself. He swiftly fired two wind blades that struck the demon wolves directly, cutting them into quadrants. However, this was of little consequence to Duval; with his vampire-like splitting ability, such cuts merely resulted in more individual entities.
“Cutting means nothing to me…
“This is a tactic specifically for you Aetherial soldiers…
“Prepared in advance!”
As Duval fell, each of his four flesh pieces rapidly twisted and mutated into four new demon wolves. The original two wolf heads and the newly grown ones simultaneously uttered a mocking taunt directed at Harold.
In the Storm Path’s attack repertoire, the rapid cutting wind blades were its most famous hallmark. Thus, Duval had specifically chosen vampire meat cans for this operation to counteract his opponent’s cutting ability, and now the effect proved to be highly effective.
Watching the massive demon wolf split into four, with his cutting attack seemingly entirely neutralized, Harold felt no sense of loss. His attention remained fixed on the smaller, now-splintered demon wolves, and just as they were about to reach the ground, he lifted his hand in an upward motion.
“Rise…”
Suddenly, a powerful updraft surged before him. The fierce wind blowing from below suspended the two demon wolves firmly in mid-air, preventing them from landing. Without a solid support, they could only flail wildly, trapped and unable to reach the ground, their faces displaying astonishment.
“What…”
The Wind Prison. This was a binding technique of the Aetherial soldiers, creating a powerful updraft to lift enemies and restraining them in the air. It was especially useful against those incapable of flight. Harold had previously refrained from using this tactic on Duval due to his excessive weight. The Fear-eating Demon Wolf, at over ten meters tall, weighed nearly twenty to thirty tons; without prior preparation to amass strength, Harold could not generate a wind field capable of lifting something of such weight.
However, the situation was now different. Duval had willingly split himself into four, and the newly formed smaller demon wolves, both in size and weight, had become light enough to be lifted by the wind field.
Seeing the four smaller demon wolves descending and unable to evade, Harold didn’t hesitate to summon an instant wind field beneath them. A fierce updraft erupted within a limited range, lifting them into the air, ensuring they would never touch the ground again.
For heavy ground combat units like the Fear-eating Demon Wolf, being suspended in the air meant they could essentially resist nothing. Without solid footing, they could only struggle hopelessly and randomly, grasping at thin air, utterly powerless.
With the four small demon wolves restrained, Harold finally let out a sigh of relief, then unceremoniously launched his offensive. Wielding a stone sword, he swung it, instantly releasing countless tiny wind blades that rained down upon the demon wolves.
These wind blades, only a few centimeters to a dozen centimeters wide, were vastly smaller compared to the previous large wind blades Harold had unleashed, which spanned over twenty meters. Yet, despite their diminutive size, their sharpness had not diminished. They could still pierce the werewolf’s skin, but once embedded in the flesh, they quickly lost their potency.
In comparison to the larger wind blades, these tiny blades were abundant; Harold could unleash over a hundred with a single swing. The minuscule blades shot through the air at high speed, crashing into the four demon wolves bound by the wind field like a heavy rain, causing misty sprays of bl**d to erupt.
In no time, countless tiny wounds were carved into the four small demon wolves, bl**d spraying out like mist. This high density of slight injuries left almost no intact skin on any of the wolves, each one undergoing a torturous form of execution. They struggled desperately amidst their painful howls, but due to the Wind Prison’s restraints, they could not escape this cruel fate.
Harold continuously swung his stone sword, generating hundreds, even thousands of dense small wind blades that scraped away the flesh of the four demon wolves, reducing their skin to a fine mist-like state. This minuscule remnant of flesh was beyond Duval’s capacity to regenerate into new separate bodies, as it was simply too finely dispersed.
Thus, within this seemingly endless onslaught of wind blades, the four demon wolves were slowly transformed into bl**d-soaked wolves, their fur entirely stripped away. Their exposed muscles rapidly eroded by the tiny wind blades, in some areas the flesh had been scraped so thoroughly that bones were revealed. If this continued, Duval could foresee being entirely reduced to nothing, having all flesh stripped away, executed by this brutal method.
However, just then, a sudden change occurred. Harold, who had already looked unwell, suddenly appeared even more dismal amidst the ongoing torment of Duval. He seemed unable to withstand something; his brow tightened as he temporarily ceased his assault, shakingly pressing against his stomach, and then violently retched. In mid-air, he suddenly swayed precariously.
This… was a sign that the illness suppressed within Harold’s body had worsened. Not long ago, during Duval’s last display of his splitting ability, Duval’s clone had gotten close to Harold by jumping. Although Harold had narrowly evaded that attack due to his superhuman reflexes, Duval’s clone had immediately expelled a miasma of disease as a failed attack. That miasma had been partially absorbed by Harold as a result of his elemental form.
The air generated by Harold’s form mixed with the pathogen-laden miasma, leading to the unfortunate outcome of Harold inhaling that very sickness. The disease soon adversely affected Harold’s body, and upon noticing distress signals from within, he promptly affixed a sigil to himself to enhance his physical condition and suppress the illness, focusing his energy on defeating his current enemy. He wanted to resolve matters with Duval before the illness fully manifested.
However, the resilience of the Fear-eating Demon Wolf exceeded his expectations. After enduring brutal torture for many minutes, having had its bones exposed, the Fear-eating Demon Wolf not only remained alive but also retained a degree of mobility. Harold, initially intending to persist and cleanly strip Duval’s flesh, found that his illness had deteriorated to an uncontrollable state. Harold was not an “Extraordinary Being” possessing a “Cup,” and even with the assistance of the sigil, his body could not sustain much longer.
The worsening of Harold’s illness directly impacted his ability to summon powers. Not only was he unable to maintain the continuous onslaught of slicing wind blades, but the Wind Prison that trapped Duval also began to falter. The upward wind field’s effectiveness sharply diminished, and the bl**d wolves, which were already shorn to the bone, plummeted heavily to the ground, kicking up clouds of dust.
Struggling, the bl**d-soaked wolves, devoid of any healthy skin, attempted to rise. They were now so weak they could hardly stand. Due to the massive loss of flesh, the spirituality of each bl**d wolf had dwindled significantly, and for an “Extraordinary Being” who held a “Cup,” lower spirituality meant a slower healing rate. Remaining split at this point would be utterly perilous, so their immediate priority was to reintegrate.
Dragging their bloodied forms, the four hairless, wounded, and partially exposed wolves weakly crawled together. They pressed against one another, and their patchy flesh began to meld rapidly. The four damaged bodies swiftly fused into a singular, tall wolf shape, and their jet-black fur began to regrow.
Eventually, Duval reverted to his original two-headed demon wolf form. Due to the extensive damage from the wind blade torment, his size had decreased, now only about seven to eight meters tall.
Reintegrated, the demon wolf panted heavily, casting a resentful gaze upward towards the sky, where Harold, now in a precarious position, was suffering from illness-induced delirium. The demon wolf picked up a large handful of stones from the ground and hurled them toward the sky. Full of trepidation, Duval hesitated to jump and engage in aerial combat again; he had never felt such a connection to the ground below him.
In an instant, countless stones rained down on Harold. Already weakened and reflexive, Harold barely managed to dodge, but one stone struck him, sending him tumbling down from the sky to another location in the Church District, disappearing from Duval’s view.
“Now… it’s time to get the hell out of here…
“No! That guy must d*e! I must devour him!”
At this moment, the wiser choice for Duval would have been to retreat quickly from the scene. Yet the brutal torment he had just endured ignited an uncontrollable thirst for revenge and hunger within him.
Duval craved to consume the one who had inflicted such suffering upon him, even if it was unnecessary for his current mission. Although he retained some reason, it could not contain the boiling beast bl**d thirsting for vengeance, as he had just been mercilessly tormented by Harold.
“Devour him! bl**d for bl**d!”
Finally, Duval resumed his assault, tracking Harold’s scent as he charged forward. At this point, Harold had weakened so much that he could not even hide his presence. When Duval reached him, it would simply be a one-sided feast.
Following the scent, Duval barreled on, crashing through walls without restraint. After brutally breaking down another barrier, he burst into a vast chapel. In here, the external sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the expansive inner sanctum. The altar of the Three Saints and the Savior of Radiance was bathed in this holy light, and the dome of the chapel was adorned with magnificent religious frescoes, many areas exquisitely decorated.
Upon entering the chapel, Duval could smell Harold’s scent ahead of him. He only needed to smash through another wall or two to find Harold.
However, at that moment, another scent within the chapel caught Duval’s attention. Turning toward it, he saw a white figure before the altar of Radiance. The platinum-haired nun, dressed in a white habit, calmly watched the massive demon wolf entering, her eyes filled with tranquility.
“Oh, corrupted gluttony… kneel before the Lord, relinquish that which does not belong to you, and accept the punishment you deserve…”
Seeing the giant demon wolf, Vania spoke in a tone of mild admonition. However, her seemingly condescending manner only enraged Duval, and his right head roared in fury.
“Who are you, nun? d*e!”
With that, the enraged demon wolf surged forward on all fours, pouncing towards the nun. Sensing the impending attack, Vania anticipated it with her mind’s eye, swiftly dodging the demon wolf’s furious strike. The wolf’s wild assault completely obliterated the altar behind her.
“Roar!!”
With a fearsome cry, the demon wolf launched another attack at Vania. Just then, a dark shadow fell from the ceiling, darting over the wolf’s body. The wolf’s key muscle tendons were instantly severed, bl**d gushed forth, and the demon wolf lost its balance, crashing heavily to the ground. The shadow revealed itself to be the Night Demon, an unexpected ally.
As the wolf fell, Vania took several steps back, distancing herself from it. She then assumed a stance, extending one hand upward and reciting with devotion.
“Lord… grant me your light!!”
Suddenly, an intensely brilliant light erupted from Vania’s hand, rapidly extending and expanding into a five- to six-meter-long spear, radiating with brilliance akin to the sun! Drawing from the immense faith and rich spirituality gathered within the St. Hymn Cathedral, Vania conjured the Solar Spear, elevating its power to the utmost limit she could currently achieve.
“d*e!!”
Once the wolf’s legs healed rapidly, it roared again and launched another assault. Faced with the clearly altered Vania, its furious wrath propelled it to continue its offensive. First, it exhaled a miasma towards her before lunging.
Confronted by the incoming miasma, Vania closed her eyes and held her breath, then summoned the healing power augmented by the St. Hymn Cathedral, countering the disease brought forth by the miasma.
When the massive demon wolf bore down directly in front of her, Vania, seeing through its appearance and movements with her mind’s eye, did not throw the sunlight spear as she usually would. Instead, she wielded it as a melee weapon, launching a dual-armed strike at the wolf.
As the five-meter-long spear first swung through its trajectory, it struck the wolf’s hands, severing its claws with the evaporating force of its flesh. The demon wolf, howling in pain, pressed its body down in an attempt to bite at Vania, but she countered, skillfully wielding the Solar Spear to obliterate a significant portion of its two heads. Blinded and brainless, the wolf’s body wriggled desperately; Vania deftly avoided the exposed backlash, seizing the opportunity to pierce through its chest with one thrust, driving the spear through and evaporating its heart, subsequently sweeping through the wolf’s form to vaporize even more of its body.
At last, the utterly depleted demon wolf slowly ceased to show signs of life amidst its rage.
“Witness… the technique of dragon hunting…”
