Chapter 102: Rebirth (Eleven)
Boom—
The sky was a swirling mass of dark clouds, with waves of Dead Smoke swirling back, rapidly converging toward the floating sun. Scarlet lightning flickered across the scene, illuminating countless shadows darting across the dusty earth below.
And in that chaos, lightning danced wildly as well.
Clang!
A bl**d-soaked Swordsman clashed swords with an incoming Knight, then followed up with a powerful kick that sent his opponent flying. An astonishing arc of lightning surged from the battlefield, twisting in a serpentine fashion around the Swordsman and “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” slicing outward, while brilliant blue sparks struck the charging Knights, only to be deflected harmlessly by a thin Light Barrier.
Whoosh—
Two Holy Lances shot down from above, and the Swordsman swiftly dodged, spinning to parry a fierce strike with a resounding “clang,” his cloak flaring dramatically in the breeze.
“Put down your sword, Mr. Carlos!”
A muscular Knight bragged, his jaw muscles bulging from exertion as he attempted to force his sword tip down against the Swordsman’s blade. “You’re injured! Accept the Divine Miracle treatment now and stop resisting!”
“Then you ought to stop attacking,” Carlos replied flatly.
Despite his left arm beginning to feel numb and the color draining from his lips, he fought back against the Young Knight’s bulging biceps with sheer willpower. No matter how hard his opponent pressed, the sword tip remained firmly in place, refusing to budge.
In the next heartbeat, Carlos suddenly shoved his sword to the right. Sparks flew as the blade grazed the Knight’s cheek, causing the Knight to stumble forward in surprise. Carlos flicked his left arm, channeling lightning into the Light Barrier, and grabbed the Knight’s face with a firm grip.
Zzzz—
In an instant, the Knight’s body stiffened, and his sword clattered to the ground. The barrier cracked with a loud “bang,” and the Knight fell backward, while Carlos switched gears and deflected another sword strike from the left. With a spinning kick, he sent a sneaky Knight reeling, his body flashing like lightning as he teleported several meters away. The spot he had just vacated was pierced by a translucent arc of light, “thud,” embedding itself deep in the ground.
The man turned to follow the line of fire.
In his line of sight, about ten meters away, two robed Clerics were hiding behind the crowd. One of them had a finger raised, shock evident on his face as he realized Carlos had narrowly evaded his attack.
They were the ones who had hurried over with that Young Bishop earlier…
Not to be underestimated.
Carlos was about to sprint over when suddenly, the sound of chains clinking rang out from beneath his feet. He immediately sensed danger and retreated just in time as three golden chains shot up from the ground, narrowly missing him. But before he could regain his footing, Cleric Larix appeared in a flash of golden light.
“d*mn…”
“CAR! LOS! GONZALES—”
Buzz!
The sound of Divine Miracle echoed in his ears as the Young Cleric struck out with a glowing palm blade, slicing through the air with an ear-piercing whine. Carlos’s eyes widened as he ducked just in time, the strike whooshing harmlessly over his head. Just as he prepared to counterattack, a figure rushed in from the side and tackled him, trying to overpower him to the ground.
“Ughhh—”
“Mmm…”
Carlos grunted.
He steadied himself against the sudden rush, but every muscle in his body protested in pain, forcing him to s*ck in a breath. The dizziness from bl**d loss washed over him like a wave. Gritting his teeth, lightning crackled around him, sending his assailant careening backward, hair standing on end and smoke rising from their head.
Yet this opponent wouldn’t let go, their raw strength overwhelming. As they shouted, they bore down harder, pushing Carlos back several steps, the soles of his boots grinding against the dirt, sending up a puff of dust. Just as he felt he might topple over, he twisted and grabbed the person’s neck, “Bam!”—suddenly flipping them onto the ground. Reflexively, his sword pointed toward the Knight’s head, but he hesitated just as he raised it.
In reality, even in this battered state, if Carlos truly wanted, these people wouldn’t get within arm’s reach of him. The moment they charged or even just stepped forward, they could get struck by lightning or sliced down by his sword energy. And even if they were wrapped in the Sin Barrier, most of these Knights would likely share the same grim fate.
But to take things that far? Their lives were no longer his to control.
Carlos didn’t want to hurt them for real.
But some among them didn’t appear to share that sentiment.
Thud—
In the moment he was about to retract the sword arm, a straight line of energy shot in from outside the crowd, piercing straight through Carlos’s chest.
In that instant, he felt no pain.
He only noticed a sudden warmth flooding his chest and back, along with his insides. He felt an immediate drain of strength, his vision flashing momentarily before coming into focus just in time for him to roll to the side, but “bam!”—he collided with an unseen barrier that had formed out of nowhere. Gritting his teeth, Carlos got to his feet but barely steadied himself before bursting forth in a flash of lightning, dodging more Holy Lances as they slammed into the ground behind him, a cacophony of “boom, boom, boom” echoing as more Knights swarmed in.
“What resilience…”
Outside the ruins, Bishop Aresta observed the encirclement, an edge of concern creeping into his expression. He murmured, “If this drags on, that old Sword Saint will surely return…”
“Bishop!”
The Cleric beside him shifted his gaze from the figure surrounded by lightning over to Aresta, his eyes twinkling. “If we don’t hold back, how will we explain this afterward?”
“…Explain?”
Aresta smirked. “Who do I need to explain myself to, Mr. Ryan? His pupil is obstructing the Church from reclaiming the Fire Seed. I’m afraid he’ll be the one needing to give an account to us, to the First Knights Order, and to the Pope.”
“So, Bishop Aresta means…”
The Cleric trailed off.
The Young Bishop fell silent, no longer speaking.
But the Cleric studied him for a moment, then reluctantly nodded, seeming to grasp his intentions.
Meanwhile, the battle raged on.
The lightning-wrapped Swordsman was bloodied on the desolate earth, his once-pure robes now soaked dark red. His steps were becoming unsteady, and the once-smooth motions of his sword were faltering. He coughed up bl**d, yet the Knights continued to surge forward, Holy Lances shrieking, golden light erupting everywhere—chains clinking relentlessly, sealing Carlos’s escape routes.
“Ha, ha, ha…”
The man’s breath grew labored as he barely fended off the Captain of Knights’ heavy blow, using his shoulder to shove the opponent back. But then, his legs suddenly buckled, and he sank to one knee, propping himself up with his sword.
He was indeed exhausted…
