Amid the chaos of the collapsing floating structures in Blood Moon City's foggy district.
"What I'm trying to say, Ulysses, is that you are truly pitiful."
Hyperion looked at Ulysses with playful mockery, as though showing him that her life was entirely in her own hands, and that she couldn't care less about an adhesive pest like him.
Ulysses's agitated mind could no longer exert flawless control over his summons.
"I reject this! No one could ever love you like this! If he loved such an evil creature, he could never love the one as pure as falling snow! You're lying to me!"
Ulysses's features twisted, and his eyes blazed with a fury potent enough to incinerate the world. Blood Clan mana swirled violently around his body, so intense that it warped the surrounding space.
Yet the faint, impassioned flush visible on the maiden's cheeks—even in her demonic form—spoke for itself.
There truly was a man who had opened her heart.
She wasn't lying.
"Keep fighting, then! All it means is that your swift execution as invaders will turn into a lingering death!"
Ulysses wielded his finger like a brush dripping with blood, sweeping it brazenly through empty air. With every stroke, plumes of blaze surged skyward. The crimson abyss erupted into roaring flames, engulfing the floating structure beneath Hyperion in an instant.
No one could break the deadlock!
The moment this scorpion-tailed demoness exhausted the strength she had overdrawn to stall him, the collapse would resume!
Scarlet tongues of fire slithered outward like living creatures, voraciously consuming everything in sight.
At the epicenter of the inferno, Hyperion charged coldly forward, amber mist drifting from the corners of her eyes.
Her steps were like dancing on knife edges; the flames threatened to swallow her whole at any moment.
Just as Ulysses moved to pursue and strike, Hyperion preempted him. Moving with speed beyond mortal comprehension, she dissolved into a fleeting phantom ink-line, closing the distance to Ulysses in the blink of an eye.
Before the Tenth Progenitor, Ulysses, could react, the scorpion-tail dagger in Hyperion's grip plunged straight toward his skull with enough sheer force to peel the flesh from his face alive!
Ulysses tilted his head just in time to dodge, yet Hyperion's blade still sliced across his cheek, drawing a fresh spray of blood.
Hyperion had no intention of letting up.
Her lips parted in a twisted, bizarre grin, her eyes gleaming with terrifying, icy malice.
Gripping her family's ancestral scorpion-tail dagger tight, Hyperion repeatedly thrust toward Ulysses's head. No matter how much blood splattered around them, the madness burning in her gaze only deepened.
As they clashed, the surrounding architecture collapsed at an escalating pace. Thunderous rumbles echoed through the void as rubble and broken masonry rained down like hail, while the rampaging sea of fire threatened to swallow everything.
"You madwoman!!"
A flicker of hesitation crossed Ulysses's eyes, but he finally gritted his teeth. Blood energy and mana erupted from his body, casting a surging tide of gore straight at Hyperion.
He had no choice but to temporarily recall the bulk of his concentration and mana from the blood eagle and the blood bear. The blood he had dispersed couldn't be reclaimed right away, and even retrieving it wouldn't happen that fast.
Caught off guard by this close-range telekinetic wave, Hyperion was flung backward, crashing heavily into a distant pile of ruins before coming to a halt.
"Protect... my friends..."
Seemingly oblivious to the pain, Hyperion unsteadily rose to her feet.
Her eyes locked onto Ulysses, ablaze with resolute murderous intent.
"Fall! You hideous, filthy wretch!"
Ulysses had also been caught unprepared by Hyperion's sudden surge in power.
Fighting on multiple fronts had weakened his true body far too much, allowing a mere duke's daughter to land blows on him.
Blood mist surged around Ulysses as he sought to harness the painted tide of Blood King Divine Fire, bending it entirely to his will.
Sensing the scorching heat rolling across the foggy district, Hyperion knew Ulysses was about to put far more effort into this fight than before.
"Then let's see who falls first."
Hyperion's gaze turned razor-sharp. She threw back her head and roared, unleashing the demonic battle cry of the Lord of Blasphemy. Lunging forward, she thrust out her right hand, fingers hooked into claws that glinted with sharp, icy light.
Seeing that Hyperion not only showed no fear but was charging in for the kill once more, Ulysses froze for a heartbeat before erupting in fury.
When had he, the glorious Tenth Progenitor, ever been subjected to such provocation from an opponent of this caliber?
Crimson flames blazed in Ulysses's eyes. The painted Blood King Divine Fire surged wildly around him, transforming into flaming serpents under his command as they swept forward, poised to tear the scorpion-tailed demoness to shreds.
***
Southwest section of Blood Moon City.
Smoke choked the Hall of Annihilation as fire soared toward the heavens.
The figures of Marquis Somerset and the blood bear stood proudly in the center of the battlefield.
Every strike they delivered carried destructive force, rending the earth and pulverizing rock.
Antanas and Sinnola were both gravely injured, while Pranay's fate remained unknown, buried somewhere beneath the rubble.
Just as the three high demons were on the verge of being crushed entirely, the giant blood bear suddenly seemed to have its puppet strings severed. Its movements turned sluggish and stiff, its massive frame wobbled, and the ferocity in its eyes gradually dimmed.
Having lost its target, it peered around in confusion.
"Ulysses?"
Sensing the giant bear's abnormality, Marquis Somerset glanced aside in puzzlement.
In this razor-thin moment between life and death, Antanas summoned an unimaginable surge of willpower and hauled herself up from the debris.
Drenched in blood, she gritted her teeth against the agonizing pain and began channeling healing and shielding magic.
In the ruins behind Somerset, the battered and near-dead Sinnola saw Antanas's actions. As the healing washed over her, she felt her shattered limbs regain enough strength to move.
She seized her scythe. Just as Marquis Somerset moved to strike at Antanas, Sinnola unleashed every ounce of her strength, swinging her scythe in an arc of chilling light capable of cleaving mountains straight toward his back.
The razor blade whistled through the air with lethal intent, carving into Marquis Somerset and sending him staggering forward in shocked fury.
"Well done, Sinnola."
At the edge of the battlefield, Pranay appeared out of nowhere and gently raised his palm.
Black flames surged in the direction he pointed. In the next instant, the Hall of Annihilation trembled violently as abyssal fire erupted from beneath the ground, coiling into a spiraling vortex in midair.
"Why aren't you dead?! Did I not hit you hard enough?"
Marquis Somerset was swallowed whole by the churning black flames. His roar echoed from within the vortex as black smoke raged violently around him.
"Brother?!"
Sinnola stared at the figure.
She had genuinely believed Pranay was on the verge of death after taking Somerset's blows to shield her and Antanas.
Then a touch of anger flared in her chest.
That guy had actually held back.
All along, he had been using the power of the Lord of Bones, using a clone as an extra life to battle Somerset.
"I'm so glad you're all right."
Torn between anger and laughter, Antanas wiped away her tears and cast a blanket of restorative spells over herself and Sinnola.
Like Hyperion, Pranay excelled in stealth and evasion. During the battle, he had imperceptibly swapped his true body for a clone while hiding in the shadows to await an opportunity. He had created the perfect opening to pin down Marquis Somerset, buying Antanas and Sinnola precious time to recover.
Even so, they knew the battle remained perilous.
Marquis Somerset's aura was formidable enough to make Antanas's heart race. The moment the giant blood bear regained its senses, all three of them would once again face mortal danger.
***
Western temporary camp.
Seeing the giant blood eagle lose control, Abigail immediately scrambled to her feet and directed her mechanical assistants to repair the barrier.
The base had suffered catastrophic damage. She needed to restore it as quickly as possible to reestablish communications between her companions and distribute visual intel to everyone.
"That was way too close, meow!"
Boss Cat slunk out of Abigail's shadow, trembling.
Its spells could only shield Abigail a limited number of times. If the blood eagle had pounced a few more times, the temporary camp really would have fallen.
With the pressure relieved, Barton refocused entirely on the Blood Clan count.
Though the blood eagle had inflicted considerable wounds on him, he now moved as if shedding heavy training weights, handling the count with far greater ease.
Within minutes, Abigail and her mechanical assistants had patched up the camp's basic framework, and the mechanical legion initiated automated reinforcement protocols.
"All right, we're back online."
Abigail pressed the final key and led Boss Cat deep into the mechanical outpost. Standing before the workbench, she studied the light screen projected by the mechanical assistant.
As she watched the flickering transmission, astonishment crept into her eyes.
"Meow, meow, meow?! Meow, meow!"
Boss Cat perched on Abigail's shoulder. It knew exactly what Abigail had checked first.
It was looking at the exact same feed.
What mattered most to them was what had transpired on Hyperion's end while communications were severed—what had caused the giant blood eagle to suddenly freeze.
Aside from her amber eyes, Hyperion looked remarkably like a maiden version of the Lord of Blasphemy.
At the same time, she was extraordinarily powerful.
"Are you two all right? Abigail, Boss Cat."
The moment communications were restored, Lanqi's voice sounded in their ears once more.
He was still fighting Rasheal while maintaining contact with the base.
Lanqi had clearly been anxious when the connection dropped. Yet aside from keeping Rasheal occupied to prevent him from reinforcing other sectors or activating Oblivion Mode, Lanqi couldn't leave his post to help anywhere else.
For now, his sole duty was to ensure that the Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal—the strongest tier-9 combatant in Blood Moon City—could not influence the rest of the battlefield.
"Yes, we're fine. I'm sharing real-time intel with you now."
Abigail prioritized feeding Lanqi the situation captured by the mechanical messengers on Hyperion's side.
The other battlefields hadn't changed much since communications were cut, so she could summarize them verbally. The biggest shifts were undoubtedly on Hyperion's end and at the Hall of Annihilation.
"...No wonder Boss Cat was singing so joyfully. So you've become this brave, Hyperion."
Lanqi's voice carried heartfelt relief and gentle sentiment, as if speaking to Hyperion across the distance.
"Lanqi, do you have any ideas?"
Abigail surveyed the feeds from the various sectors. At her wit's end, she could only turn to Lanqi.
Though they had barely stabilized the front lines and pulled back from the brink of total collapse, the burden now rested entirely on Hyperion.
This kind of stopgap was like drinking poison to quench thirst. If any single point faltered, the entire board would still collapse.
Right now, the one most likely to buckle first was Hyperion, who was fighting well past her limits to hold off the terrifying Tenth Progenitor, Ulysses.
Even if the other sectors were holding more steadily than Hyperion, they were still at a heavy disadvantage and incapable of breaking through—except for Sigrid.
"I actually considered the worst-case scenario: having Talia leave me to support other areas. But fighting Rasheal while supplying Talia with mana... even putting aside the risks, doing so would rob me of any chance to defeat Rasheal in the end. It might also let Rasheal escape to other battlefields, and I can't hold him alone... If we have to pin our hopes on something, our only option is for Sigrid to defeat Marquis Heritier first. That would temporarily strip Rasheal of Blood Moon City's blessing, allowing Talia and me to beat him into a weakened state. Then Sigrid and Talia would both be freed up to reinforce the other fronts."
Lanqi swiftly analyzed the situation.
"..."
Abigail fell into silent contemplation.
Both sides were walking a tightrope.
Whichever front yielded a decisive outcome first would radiate across the entire conflict, tipping the scales of victory in an instant.
It all came down to who collapsed first: Marquis Heritier or Hyperion.
"No, Hyperion will definitely go down first."
Abigail compared the feeds from the Hall of Piercing Cold and the southern warped void.
No matter how she looked at it, Hyperion wouldn't hold out long enough.
Hyperion had to survive until Marquis Heritier fell, and then hold out even longer until Sigrid arrived to reinforce her.
"Damn bloodsuckers. This isn't fair at all."
Abigail spoke bitterly, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
Marquis Heritier possessed infinite life; Sigrid could only wound her at best.
Hyperion, on the other hand, could truly die.
Wagering lives against the Blood Clan was always a losing proposition.
She didn't want to watch Hyperion die. Though they hadn't known each other long, she couldn't accept an outcome where someone who fought this desperately to protect them became the first to fall.
"Try sharing Hyperion's situation with Sigrid."
Lanqi suggested over the comms.
His voice held an uncharacteristic emotional tremor, an unmistakable fluctuation that shattered his usual absolute calm.
"Won't that distract Sigrid?"
Abigail asked, but she was already carrying out his instructions.
At a time like this, there was no room for hesitation—only absolute trust in her companions.
***
Domain of Piercing Cold.
The shockwaves from Sigrid's fists and kicks shattered the surrounding ice crystals into dust.
"Don't think these petty tricks can hold me!"
Sigrid barked fiercely, her fist carrying a blast of scorching heat as it smashed toward Heritier.
Heritier's form blurred into incorporeality and flickered to the other side. Sigrid's fist passed through an afterimage, slamming into the ice layer and sending shards flying in all directions.
Instantly, the freezing chill of the Hall of Piercing Cold began reconverging, attempting to freeze Sigrid solid.
Sigrid slid aside with the momentum, glancing at the star chart revolving above Heritier's head, certain that Heritier had preemptively calculated the optimal position once again.
"Your brute force is meaningless before me."
Heritier swept her staff, raising a twilight wall from the ground to obstruct Sigrid's pursuit.
Sigrid sneered in disdain and shattered the magical barrier with a single kick.
Yet Heritier's figure vanished without a trace once more, her intangible state preventing Sigrid from locking onto her.
Ice pillars stood like a forest inside the Hall of Piercing Cold, draped in dense frost. The two pursued and evaded each other through this labyrinth of ice.
Sigrid moved with blinding speed, but Heritier slipped through her fingers by a hair's breadth every time, elusive as wisping smoke.
The divination attribute was inherently the rarest and most difficult to counter. When a bishop-tier astrologer dedicated herself entirely to passive stalling, she was absurdly troublesome to deal with.
The Seventh Progenitor, Heritier, appeared and disappeared at will. Guided by her star chart, every dodge was flawlessly timed. The more impatient Sigrid grew, the more helpless she became.
Ever since the fight began, the two had been locked in a stalemate, neither able to overcome the other.
Sigrid's only advantage was that she was at peak condition, whereas Heritier was steadily consuming mana.
Without specialized tracking spells, and with Heritier having no intention of attacking, Sigrid found it nearly impossible to land a solid blow before Heritier's mana ran dry.
By cunningly exploiting the properties of the Hall of Piercing Cold, combined with her supreme intangibility and foresight, the Seventh Progenitor had effectively pinned Sigrid in place.
If this dragged on and the other battlefields collapsed, defeating Heritier later would become entirely pointless.
Sigrid scanned her surroundings. Beneath the thick ice, undercurrents surged, reflecting both their silhouettes.
While Heritier was elusive when shifting into an intangible form, her reflection upon the water remained distinct.
A thought struck Sigrid, and she slammed her fist into the ice beneath her feet!
With a thunderous crash, the ice gave way, and undercurrents erupted into the air.
Sigrid vaulted upward, throwing a lightning-fast punch aimed directly at the location of Heritier's reflection.
Heritier's pupils shrank as the star chart signaled danger. She tried to dodge, but she was a beat too slow.
Though Sigrid's punch didn't connect cleanly, the sheer force of the gale struck like a solid battering ram, forcibly dispersing Heritier's intangible form.
"I truly cannot underestimate you, Bishop of Domination. If you were granted enough power of faith, you would likely ascend to tier nine."
Heritier forced her body back together with a darkened expression, expending a massive amount of mana in the process.
Seizing this opening, Sigrid flashed directly before Heritier with a burst of speed, her fist descending like a collapsing mountain aimed straight for her face.
Heritier's figure vanished again.
Sigrid looked around warily, only to see Heritier's phantoms materialize in every direction simultaneously.
"I really wish I could drag Melogas over here to beat you!"
Sigrid roared, exploding with full power once more as violent gales swirled around her, shattering all the illusions at once.
If it were Melogas, who excelled in both martial and magical arts, he would surely have methods to guarantee a hit on Heritier.
This time, Heritier's phantoms did not vanish; instead, they grew clearer and more tangible, transforming the interior of the Hall of Piercing Cold into an infinite hall of mirrors.
"Give up, Bishop of Domination."
Heritier's voice echoed from all directions, dripping with mockery and scorn.
"If mere rage and brute force could drag me out, you would need to be a tier-9 combatant in the divine realm."
She continued to run circles around Sigrid. Her remaining mana was still sufficient to stall her.
Even if her mana was draining fast, she had to maintain the illusion of an inexhaustible reservoir to unsettle Sigrid's mind.
Before Sigrid could launch another attack, she abruptly froze, listening in silence to the voice returning over her comms.
"Sigrid, Hyperion needs your support..."
Abigail contacted the Bishop of Domination in the Hall of Piercing Cold, making her plea brief while sharing the real-time audio and visual feed of Hyperion's sector, allowing Sigrid to hear the battle.
"Hyperion is facing the Tenth Progenitor Ulysses's true body alone...? How could Hyperion possibly win?"
Sigrid muttered in dazed disbelief as she stared at the holographic screen projected by the mechanical messenger.
She had a crystal-clear understanding of Hyperion's strength. Even if Hyperion burned her life force to enter a berserk state, she couldn't possibly bridge the gap to truly contend with the Tenth Progenitor, Marquis Ulysses. Hyperion was throwing her life away every passing second to fight him.
"That's right. The duke's daughter will probably be dead very soon. Her death star is shining relentlessly."
Heritier looked toward the heavens and spoke to Sigrid with a laugh.
The more impatient Sigrid became, the harder it would be for her to catch her, and her movements would become wider and sloppier. From the very beginning, Heritier had been deliberately taunting this muscle-brained wolf girl.
In this war of attrition, psychology mattered far more than direct confrontation.
"...!!!"
Sigrid's rage boiled like molten lava. Her purple eyes began to flood with silver light, and a radiant silver brilliance blazed around her entire body.
Facing the perpetually elusive Heritier, she had finally reached her absolute limit.
"Enough! It ends now!"
Sigrid roared. Raising both hands high, she clasped her fists together like a divine hammer delivering heaven's punishment.
In the next instant, Sigrid poured all her fury and power into her clasped fists, smashing them violently into the frozen ground!
BOOM—!!!
The Hall of Piercing Cold shuddered violently, as if struck by a cataclysm that cleaved heaven and earth.
The ground groaned in agony as the ice shattered instantly, spiderweb cracks spreading out from Sigrid to encompass the entire hall at terrifying speed.
Heritier's eyes widened in utter disbelief.
Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that a berserk Sigrid could shake the entire Hall of Piercing Cold!
Yet the world trembled around them, as if the entire structure were truly being rocked by her peerless, lunatic strength.
"Have you lost your mind?! Bishop of Domination!"
Heritier shrieked, unable to hide the terror in her voice.
Sigrid was no longer attacking her—she was focused entirely on demolishing the whole Hall of Piercing Cold.
"I'm going to save my darling Hyperion! None of you are allowed to bully her!"
With that roar, Sigrid raised her fists once more and smashed them into the floor.
This hall was the only thing restricting her and preventing her from reinforcing other sectors, all while providing shelter to Marquis Heritier.
If it was in her way, destroying everything meant she could just march in a straight line.
Sigrid seemed intent on venting every shred of her rage and impatience, annihilating the entire frozen labyrinth before her eyes.
RUMBLE—!!!
The Hall of Piercing Cold shook violently again as ice pillars collapsed and the frozen ground fractured into countless fragments.
Violent gales howled through the fissures, sweeping up countless ice crystals to rampage through the hall.
Heritier turned deathly pale, barely keeping her balance.
She couldn't fathom why this werewolf had suddenly undergone such a berserk mutation, nor could she imagine what this creature had been fed to possess such absurd, mountain-moving strength.
She realized that if this continued, the Hall of Piercing Cold really would be torn down.
And without the terrain to constrain her, she would have no way to stop Sigrid.
The silver light around Sigrid grew ever more blinding.
Every fist that fell carried the power to shatter heaven and earth, as though intent on beating this world back into primal chaos.
Crack! Crash! Groan!
Collapsing blocks of ice and crumbling walls filled the Hall of Piercing Cold.
"Stop it!"
Heritier raised her staff with both hands. The star chart spun around her as countless stars flew forth, transforming into razor blades that shot toward Sigrid, while even more stars condensed into a massive net to engulf her.
Sigrid's fists whistled through the air, creating rolling waves of force. Under the onslaught of her punches, the stars shattered one after another, dissolving into scattered stardust.
Her assault didn't halt for a second. Flashing forward, she appeared behind Heritier in an instant, driving a heavy punch straight toward the center of her back.
Heritier gasped in horror and attempted to phase into intangibility again, only to realize she was too late.
Her body dissolved into wisping smoke as she retreated frantically, putting distance between them.
This time, the glancing force of Sigrid's attack clipped her, sending her flying into an icy wall.
"Damn wolf..."
Heritier wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and stood up, leaning on her staff.
Now, even if she had to take risks and go on the offensive, she had to stop this lunatic from continuing to dismantle the Hall of Piercing Cold.
***
Among the collapsing floating ruins of Blood Moon City, the battle between Hyperion and Ulysses raged on.
Hyperion's figure darted and vaulted between the crumbling masonry, moving so fast her trajectory was nearly invisible.
"Sigrid... thank you."
Hyperion couldn't fathom why the Bishop of Domination had gone so completely berserk over her being in danger.
Unexpectedly, she could hear the situation on Sigrid's side through Abigail's comms.
Hyperion could vaguely sense that Sigrid cared deeply about whether she lived or died.
Since Sigrid was fighting so desperately to defeat Heritier as quickly as possible, Hyperion refused to hold her back, and she definitely couldn't lose to Ulysses first.
By now, Hyperion had completely unlocked the power within her body. Deep-purple mist coiled around her form, and her physical capabilities had far surpassed their original limits.
To secure the overall victory, the Tenth Progenitor, Ulysses, had recalled his focus from the blood bear in the Hall of Annihilation and the blood eagle at the western camp, yet he still could not abandon his control over the blood serpent deep within the Hall of the Abyss.
The primary duty assigned to him by the Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal, and the Seventh Progenitor, Heritier, was to guard the Hall of the Abyss. Everything else was secondary—utterly trivial compared to guarding that hall.
It was precisely because he couldn't unleash his full strength that Ulysses felt all the more enraged.
"Let's see how much longer you can last!"
With a dark scowl, Ulysses commanded surging tides of scarlet telekinesis, cleaving and rending toward Hyperion with vicious, lethal strikes meant to tear this audacious scorpion-demoness into ten thousand pieces.
"I'll hold out until my companions win!"
Ever since seeing Sigrid this time, Hyperion had felt a faint sense of incongruity around her.
Sigrid had been secretly treating her well—Tata had mentioned it to her.
She couldn't explain why.
Yet setting all of that aside, Sigrid had saved her mother, making her a benefactor to their family.
If she truly survived today, she would definitely have a proper conversation with the Bishop of Domination.
Perhaps through trials and tribulations, their sisterhood would endure, and the peach blossoms would still smile in the spring breeze.
***
Abigail watched both battlefields from the camp.
"It's still no good."
She slammed her fist onto the mechanical workbench beside her.
The situation had devolved into a mutual gamble.
Abigail was certain that Hyperion's current state was burning through her life span; she couldn't maintain it for long.
The purple veins beneath Hyperion's skin pulsed with increasing frequency, and each time they surfaced, dark, toxic blood spilled from the corners of her mouth.
Most of Hyperion's wounds were not inflicted by Marquis Ulysses, but were the backlash of the toxins eroding her own body, pushing her to the brink of collapse.
Even if Ulysses's true body wasn't overwhelmingly strong, he still possessed immortality. All Hyperion could do was stall him; defeating Ulysses was completely out of the question.
"How is it on Sigrid's end?"
Lanqi's voice remained on the line with Abigail.
"Your suggestion worked remarkably well, but the problem is that Heritier is a vampire. If she were a human or demon astrologer, Sigrid might have defeated her already. The Blood Clan's innate constitution is naturally vastly superior to other races,"
Abigail said bitterly.
"Right now it's a thirty-seventy split against us, a contest of willpower between Hyperion and Marquis Heritier."
Abigail's expression grew increasingly pained.
Hyperion was ultimately made of mortal flesh and blood, while Marquis Heritier was immortal.
Even if their side won, Hyperion was very likely to die.
"..."
Silence lingered on Lanqi's end for a long time.
Abigail couldn't tell what he was feeling right now.
She only knew that ever since they arrived in Blood Moon City, she had never heard Lanqi go quiet for so long.
"Hyperion, you cannot die. Just hold on a little longer. I will lead you to victory..."
Lanqi's voice finally came through. It sounded like a final transmission to Hyperion, like a whispered prayer, and like a solemn, paramount promise—just as he had always made.
"..."
Abigail and Boss Cat silently watched the battlefield screen. In the footage, Hyperion seemed to have heard Lanqi's murmurings.
Yet the faint, resolute smile on her face made her thoughts unmistakably clear.
She wasn't afraid to die.
"She cannot die" had been the vital premise before, because her death would have allowed Duke Rasheal to seize Duke Mikhail, preventing any of them from reaching Blood Moon City and halting their fight against the Blood Clan.
Now, she was no longer afraid.
Even if she died today, as long as Duke Rasheal and Blood Moon City fell, their side would still emerge victorious.
"Hyperion! Don't gamble with your life! Your victory condition is to come back alive!"
Abigail gripped her headset, shouting into it with the authoritative tone of a commander.
Hyperion was laying down her life against Marquis Ulysses solely to protect the camp, the Hall of Annihilation, and to secure victory for everyone else.
Abigail was used to being an arrogant, fiery director, yet standing before a stage of fate she could not control, she felt utterly powerless.
"Meow..."
Tears welled in Boss Cat's eyes as it stared at the screens displaying Sigrid and Hyperion.
It was terrified that one side would reach a conclusion any second.
It could not accept an outcome where Hyperion fell first.
At this most crucial turning point, it couldn't offer any help.
It could only stay at the camp, acting as a fountain commander.
If given the chance, it would rather face the danger on the front lines just to help Hyperion.
Buzz...
Faint static crackled over the communication channel.
"Wait."
Amid the periodic tremors rattling the ground, Abigail pressed her hand to her headset.
"Lanqi, are you contacting me through holy communication magic?"
Abigail realized it wasn't the standard channel ringing, but her Ultra-Long-Range Communication Program-2.
If it wasn't Lanqi—the only one in underground Blood Moon City with the leisure to talk—then it had to be Kestrel Nikolai up on the surface in Brillda.
When Abigail pulled out her holy communication magic card and checked it alongside Boss Cat, both were stunned.
Displayed clearly on the screen was a call initiated by Ultra-Long-Range Communication Program-9 on the public channel.
"Number Nine, what do you want?"
Regardless of the circumstances, Abigail accepted the call.
For Number Nine, who had never once shown his face, to reach out on his own initiative meant he might be coming down to aid them.
"Leave it to me."
Number Nine marked a location, indicated he was heading there, and hung up after that terse statement.
Abigail stared blankly at the coordinates displayed on the public channel.
This wasn't Brillda's urban district.
It was inside Blood Moon City, beneath Brillda, right alongside them.
She looked toward the southern perspective provided by the mechanical messenger.
No one had noticed earlier, but a strange figure on the mini-map had flickered past the shadows at high speed.
Not only had he bypassed all observation from their strike team, but he had also maneuvered entirely through the Blood Clan's blind spots.
Now, he was already extremely close to the Hall of the Abyss.
"Lanqi, a strange guy showed up. It seems to be Number Nine, and he's inside Blood Moon City too."
Abigail hurriedly contacted Lanqi.
Her heart was pounding wildly.
Aside from her, Lanqi was the only one in a relatively stable position to help analyze the situation.
The current state of affairs could not withstand any more variables!
"Check his current position."
Lanqi's voice carried a rare note of surprise.
Abigail did her best to feed the footage captured by the mechanical bird to Lanqi.
Her brain was already overheating.
Hyperion had just managed to hold the line, and the blood eagle had only just quieted down from assaulting her camp's barrier and Barton, and now another variable with unknown motives had entered the fray.
On the screen.
In the ethereal void south of Blood Moon City, the abyss was shrouded beneath a layer of hazy mist.
Suddenly, a tall, straight-backed figure emerged silently from behind the fog, appearing in this bizarre, grotesque world like a ghost.
He was tall and robust, the lines of his muscles visible beneath his shirt.
As he walked, endless shadows gathered and clung to his back, merging seamlessly with his form.
Gradually, his silhouette dissolved entirely into the shadows, shifting between real and illusory, elusive as a wraith.
Only above the sunglasses perched halfway down his nose bridge did a pair of deep, cold purple eyes shine brilliantly, burning like two stars in the freezing night.
The man stared straight ahead, his gaze fixed on the bottomless abyss.
In the next instant, he leaped, soaring into the air like an arrow loosed from a bow, piercing straight toward the pitch-black sky.
Floating architecture swept past beneath his feet; gravity and inertia were rendered utterly meaningless here.
As he dashed forward, the bizarre and ever-shifting scenery of Blood Moon City morphed continuously around him, absurd yet magnificent.
Tilted, warped towers, labyrinthine corridors, and sprawling staircases blurred past him like a succession of phantoms and afterimages, constantly reassembling.
His objective was none other than the deepest, darkest corner of Blood Moon City—the Hall of the Abyss.
His gaze focused.
From the moment he revealed himself, he no longer concealed his speed, vaulting directly toward the Hall of the Abyss in the south!
Western camp.
"Holy crap, meow! Isn't that Frey?!"
Boss Cat clearly identified the figure on the screen. It couldn't fathom for the life of it why Frey would show up here!
"Frey..."
Lanqi was evidently stunned on his end as well.
The last time he had seen Frey was before heading to the Northern Continent, when Frey had told him at Ikerite Academy that werewolves might naturally feel goodwill toward him.
By the time Lanqi returned to the Southern Continent, Frey had vanished. The members of the Ikerite Academy student council who were close to Frey had even undergone a brief inquiry by the Hutton Kingdom's security department.
No matter how Lanqi and Hyperion inquired, they had only learned from Student Council President Monaster that Frey had departed after accepting a graduation assignment from Dean Sphintos of the Knight Academy that involved a bet.
"This guy... is Colonel McCree of the Capital Garrison Command's First Gendarmerie Brigade."
After thinking it over, Abigail came to a sudden realization.
She knew she had seen this man somewhere before.
"No, no, meow! His name is Frey! He's Lanqi and Hyperion's companion! He's also a top-tier wildcard!"
Boss Cat shook its head vigorously.
Thinking carefully, Alexia's intersection with Frey had occurred during that Shadow World—the Sanctuary Outlaws' Banquet. The two had met back then, and Frey had been the ultimate hunter who slew the Saintess of Destruction in the end.
Since Alexia had chosen to trust Lanqi, she had also gambled on trusting Frey, whom Lanqi believed in unconditionally in that Shadow World.
Thus, when Frey arrived in the Crest Empire and met Princess Alexia, she must have decided to hand him Number Nine's holy communication magic card, treating him as a dangerous ally who carried certain risks!
"Is this man very strong?"
Abigail stared at the map in astonishment.
"He and Lanqi are basically Wolong and Fengchu, meow!"
Seeing Lanqi and Frey appearing at the same time after so long, Boss Cat felt its sense of security return completely.
***
Blood mist void.
Having reclaimed more power from the blood eagle and the blood bear, the Tenth Progenitor, Marquis Ulysses, could easily handle Hyperion once more.
"Hahahahaha! Are you already reaching your limit?"
He laughed with relish.
Watching the scorpion-tailed demoness continuously cough up blood while desperately probing for an ambush brought him immense satisfaction.
This battle posed no real threat to him.
Yet for the demoness, every passing second was pure agony, enduring severe wounds and lethal poison that pushed her beyond the threshold of death.
Watching her struggle was even more entertaining than a circus harlequin.
Initially, he had intended to process the duke's daughter in a more artistic manner. But now, he felt that tearing this unseemly failure to pieces was what would bring him the greatest pleasure.
Suddenly, Ulysses froze.
His eyes turned hollow.
His consciousness traversed space, shifting onto the blood serpent summon in the center of the distant Hall of the Abyss.
"Wait, what?"
He sensed that someone had breached the Hall of the Abyss.
Descending through the endlessly labyrinthine channels of the abyss, plunging past thousands of winding passages, one would arrive at the subterranean depths beneath Blood Moon City.
At the sunless terminus of the abyss stood a grotesque, magnificent palace, embedded into the rock face like a colossal monolith.
Beyond its heavy stone doors lay a winding spiral staircase leading downward into the unknown.
A male figure surged into the deepest recess of the Hall of the Abyss at breathtaking speed, arriving before the sacrificial plaza.
His gaze locked firmly onto the translucent black crystal in the center of the altar. Sealed within the crystal was a handsome, gentle-looking dark-haired man, his face gaunt, trapped in a deep slumber.
Coiled around the altar was an enormous blood-red serpent, its grotesque scales gleaming with a terrifying scarlet light that seemed capable of swallowing heaven and earth.
It was guarding the black crystal, barring any intruder from rescuing the man inside.
"Holy Son of Withering!"
The blood serpent spoke in Ulysses's voice.
"..."
Without a moment's hesitation, Frey charged straight toward the black crystal, flinging off his encumbering coat to obstruct the serpent's line of sight.
In his hand, he gripped a crystal-clear sphere of liquid Blood Moon Essence. Gathering his full strength, he hurled it violently against the black crystal. With a low hum, the essence sank into the crystal's surface, sending ripples cascading across it. The entire crystal trembled violently, and fine hairline fractures appeared along the sealing barrier.
"Holy Son of Withering, what are you doing?!"
The giant blood serpent erupted in fury, its scarlet eyes blazing with murderous flames.
Opening its venomous, fanged maw, it unleashed a roar that resonated throughout the abyss, a hiss laced with the breath of Blood King poisonous fire.
The serpent lunged violently at Frey, its colossal bulk crashing forward like a moving mountain of blood with lightning speed, determined to stop him from damaging the crystal any further.
Frey stood his ground, waiting for the collision.
Just as the serpent came within an inch of him, Frey leaped into the air. The massive body surged beneath him, grazing his boots as it roared past and slammed into the black crystal, rattling it violently.
Landing on the other side of the altar, Frey wasted not a single second. Gathering all his power, he rained fists like thunderbolts against the crystal's surface.
One strike, two strikes, three strikes... Frey's assault fell like an unrelenting tempest, his fists colliding with the crystal in a barrage of deafening booms.
"Holy Son of Withering! You worthless piece of trash! You're backdooring me!"
The blood serpent pounced at Frey once more. Knowing he couldn't dodge in time, Frey didn't even try to evade the venomous, barbed fangs. The teeth sank into his back, and blood gushed forth instantly.
Yet Frey ignored it completely, pouring all his concentration into swinging his fists to dismantle the black crystal.
The serpent's assault grew ever more vicious, repeatedly battering Frey. Its scales slashed his flesh like blades, and its venomous fangs gouged his body, sending blood flying.
His purple eyes blazing, Frey seemed entirely numb to the damage. He moved as if clad in impenetrable armor; Ulysses could wound him, but could not push him away from the black crystal.
"What is Frey doing?"
Lanqi asked Abigail.
He hadn't anticipated reuniting here with Frey after his long disappearance.
Yet cooperation between him and Frey had always been like this. As long as they believed in each other as the ultimate partners, they were destined to cross paths at the final junction of victory without even needing to look at one another!
"Frey is backdooring the objective!"
Abigail hugged Boss Cat and shouted.
"Can he take it down, meow?!"
Boss Cat trembled nervously.
It had never expected the stalemate between Heritier and Sigrid, and Hyperion and Ulysses, to suddenly hinge on Master Frey, who had popped up on the map out of nowhere to rush the enemy's base.
"Trust him! Have Hyperion pin down Ulysses's true body! Don't let Ulysses return!"
Lanqi barked an immediate command to Abigail.
Feed from the Hall of the Abyss—
Frey resembled a relentless combat machine, bombarding the black crystal with utter disregard for his own safety.
His fists were like gauntlets crackling with the wrath of a thunder god, relentlessly hammering the crystal.
Every strike chipped away shards and spread web-like fractures. Under his torrential physical assault, the high-density antimagic crystal groaned, rocking on the verge of shattering.
The blood serpent let out a world-shaking roar. Yet even as its razor teeth and scarlet tongue tore into Frey's body, he remained rooted to the spot like a steel monument.
Ulysses realized things were going terribly wrong.
"Holy Son of Withering, you traitor!"
I have to get back! I have to get back!
His true body needed to rush back at all costs.
Yet Hyperion, as if receiving an order, threw herself into intercepting his true body with even greater frenzy, preventing him from returning to the Hall of the Abyss.
Fighting on two fronts, Ulysses was forced to divert all his concentration deep into the Hall of the Abyss to handle Colonel McCree.
Worst of all, the Holy Son of Withering truly possessed Blood Moon Essence!
Back when Countess Cyberna and the Holy Son of Withering had conspired to steal the key to the South Vantina Territory's defense nexus, the condition the Holy Son had demanded was their assistance in helping him break through to tier seven.
Blood Moon Essence, which could only be condensed by tier-7 or higher vampires, possessed the attributes of Regeneration and Linkage; it could create scions and serve as an exceptional breakthrough material for regeneration-type practitioners.
Since engraving carried a chance of failure, the Blood Clan had agreed to provide him with multiple spares.
The man supposedly had only succeeded on his third attempt, but it now appeared his earlier failures had been an act, allowing him to stash away the extra Blood Moon Essence they gave him.
With the vitality of a tier-7 werewolf, he wouldn't die anytime soon even while tanking the blood serpent's bites.
Furthermore, this man was an anomaly among the werewolves Ulysses had known ten thousand years ago; his physical strength was already absurd, and his stamina seemed boundless.
"Holy Son of Withering, damn you!"
The Tenth Progenitor was panicking like an ant on a hot pan.
"Aaaargh!!!"
He howled in rabid frustration, unable to stop this man whose eyes saw nothing but the crystal.
Frey possessed astounding vitality, but under the serpent's focused tearing aimed at his skull and heart, his movements gradually began to slow.
Blood poured from countless wounds, the sound of breaking bones rang out repeatedly, and the excruciating pain of ruptured internal organs finally allowed the serpent to knock him back.
Yet Frey's expression didn't waver. Paying no heed to Marquis Ulysses, he gathered his final dregs of strength into his fists and smashed them toward the black crystal.
His eyes saw only the crystal.
The fractures on the black crystal grew increasingly dense, yet they still hadn't penetrated deep enough to reach Duke Mikhail at its core.
"He's almost got it!"
Abigail cried out excitedly.
"He's not gonna make it, meow!"
Boss Cat was on the verge of tears.
Frey would die first; he was running out of time!
Ulysses was pouring all his power into boosting the summoned beast in the Hall of the Abyss.
At this moment, Frey's life force had plummeted to a critical low.
His body was riddled with wounds, blood streaming freely, his breathing faint and ragged.
"You can't do it! You wretched thief!"
The blood serpent controlled by Ulysses let out a triumphant, relieved roar. With a savage grin, its scarlet tongue traced a lethal arc through the air, darting straight for Frey's throat.
Just as that fatal blow struck, causing Abigail and Boss Cat to instinctively shut their eyes in dread—
Frey's body suddenly erupted with a dazzling glazed radiance, blazing like a brilliant sun that illuminated the entire Hall of the Abyss.
His skin, muscles, and bones all transformed into translucent, flawless glaze, radiating an imperishable, sacred power.
The blood serpent's strike slammed heavily against Frey's glazed body, producing a tooth-grinding screech, yet failed to budge him in the slightest.
In that very moment, Frey's aura skyrocketed, surging from the brink of death straight back to peak condition.
"...?!"
Ulysses was dumbfounded. Never had he imagined that this werewolf, who had been on his last breath, possessed the power to restore himself to full strength.
And Frey remained focused entirely on the black crystal.
He drove punch after punch into the crystal, his strikes carrying the momentum of roaring tsunamis, far more powerful than before.
"That's the Tears of Imperishable Glaze that Lanqi traded to Frey for the Proud Heart of the Wolf King, meow...!"
Boss Cat had heard Hyperion talk about that card!
[Tears of Imperishable Glaze]
[Category: Equipment Card]
[Rarity: Orange Epic]
[Tier: 4]
[Attributes: Enhancement / Regeneration]
[Effect: Equipping this necklace grants damage reduction and all-attribute enhancement that scales with the number of buffs and debuffs affecting the user. Nullifies fatal damage and fully restores the user to peak condition. Cooldown: 30 days. Cannot stack with other cards providing damage reduction or fatal damage immunity.]
[Note: Late on the fifth night, everyone had perished, and the Child of the Sun could no longer await the coming of the next dawn. The wolf gave him a heart; the witch gave him her blood. Beholding the Child of the Sun returning from the depths of hell, this time, it was Viscount Augustine's turn to feel fear.]
This should have been the Child of the Sun's Imperishable Glazed Body, but this time, the Child of the Sun and the Wolf King had swapped powers.
Thus, Lanqi obtained the wolf's sealing power in the form of Nuclear Fusion Wolf.
While Frey gained a second life.
Ulysses fell into utter despair.
He had fought tooth and nail to kill this suicide werewolf, only to find the bastard back at full health.
"Holy Son of Withering, you motherfucker! Are you even human?! Holy Son of Withering, you backdoor rat!"
Ulysses shrieked at the top of his lungs.
With a final thunderous blast—
The fracturing of the crystal reached a crescendo, the entire Hall of the Abyss trembling as the widening cracks shattered completely.
The pitch-black crystal exploded into countless fragments that scattered like falling stars, and Duke Mikhail, sealed within, plummeted downward as if entering free fall.
"Meow, meow!"
Outside the projection, Abigail and Boss Cat exchanged ecstatic glances.
They broadcast the latest update across the line to all members of the strike team—
"There's a chance! There's a chance!"
"He built an—Imperishable Glazed Body!"
Chapter 839