"Your aura feels quite like Violet's, you know."
Hyacinthus had no desire to keep up pretense any longer.
"I really want to crush your heart to pieces."
He spoke in a voice audible only to Sigrid. In any case, there was no one left who could stand against him.
Across the scorched battlefield, the air reeked of smoke and blood.
Hyacinthus and Sigrid stood dozens of meters apart, locked in a standoff.
Where the gazes of the two powerhouses met, invisible sparks crackled through the air.
Hyacinthus tightened his grip on his longsword. Though covered in wounds, his gaze remained sharp as a blade.
Sigrid stood ramrod straight, her fists clenched, the divine-age brilliance of the Original Slate swirling around her form.
A gentle breeze swept across the battlefield, kicking up a wisp of dust.
In that split second, both moved at once.
Hyacinthus swung his longsword with explosive force, carving out a terrifying linear slash capable of cleaving mountains in two.
At the same time, Sigrid shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, charging straight against the sword aura.
Her fists were wrapped in silvery radiance.
Fist and blade collided with an earth-shattering boom. The shockwave rippled outward from them, sweeping up shattered stones and dirt until a swirling vortex of dust veiled the sky.
When the dust cleared slightly, it was evident that Hyacinthus's Tier 9 strength far surpassed Sigrid's. Even though Sigrid had avoided the most devastating cut of the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros, the spreading sword aura had gouged deep, bone-exposing gashes across her arms, blood gushing forth incessantly.
Yet Sigrid acted as though she did not know the meaning of pain.
A lightning-like fighting spirit surged in her eyes. Silvery radiance erupted from her body, burning as intensely as at her peak, while the power gathering in her fists felt capable of pulverizing any obstacle.
Gathering every shred of her strength, she unleashed the most powerful strike of her life, her body transforming into a hurtling comet as she slammed her fist's intent toward Hyacinthus in a flash!
*Boom!*
Seizing this minuscule opening, Sigrid drove a devastating, heavyweight punch into Hyacinthus's chest.
This blow seemed to concentrate all the force in her being, knocking the already-wounded Hyacinthus stumbling backward.
Hyacinthus lurched back several paces, a thread of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Quite a bit of strength you've got."
He looked at Sigrid, a flicker of mockery and surprise passing through his eyes.
Evidently, he had underestimated the power and tenacity of this Bishop of Domination.
Sigrid planted her feet firmly, the wounds across her body rapidly mending as she assumed a fighting stance, the silver light around her blazing even more fiercely.
"If we were of equal tier, you would be the one dead."
Her voice was unyielding as she clenched her fists once more, ready to trade wound for wound with Hyacinthus.
Outside the Saint Astri Barrier.
Watching Sigrid clash with Hyacinthus and listening to the earth-shaking rumbles, the onlookers swallowed nervously for her sake.
Sigrid was not a Tier 9 powerhouse like Hyacinthus.
Though her attacks were immune to counters, she ultimately had not stepped into the divine domain. A considerable gap remained between her and Hyacinthus.
More importantly, even if Sigrid possessed recovery spells, Hyacinthus's casting-interruption counter spell prevented her from using any healing. Right now, she could only rely on her own life force to fight Hyacinthus head-on.
If the battle continued like this, even with her naturally absurd vitality and self-healing, she likely wouldn't last much longer.
"That punch just now was Sigrid's ultimate attack, and even that could only force Hyacinthus back a step or two."
Antanas was currently crouched on the ground, treating Loren, whom Torriador had retrieved.
Had that blow landed on Marquis Heretier, the Seventh Progenitor, Sigrid's all-out punch would have nearly blown her to bits.
"With Loren in this state... even if we pull him out of danger, can he really go back to fight Hyacinthus while gravely injured?" the Ice Snow Witch asked anxiously as she helped resuscitate Loren.
Yet she knew he would. So long as Loren could stand, he would drag his half-dead body without hesitation to face death against Hyacinthus.
Fortunately, Loren was not truly dead. His elemental resistances were extraordinarily high, so taking Divine Heavenly Retribution directly would not be fatal to him on its own. It was simply that the prior battle with Hyacinthus had accumulated too much severe damage, and after shielding those outside the barrier from the direct blast of Divine Heavenly Retribution, he had finally lost all combat capability.
Antanas, the Ice Snow Witch, and Micaiah were pouring all their efforts into saving Loren.
This was their only remaining hope.
Yet at this rate, there was simply no way to stall long enough to revive him.
Hyacinthus would break out of the Saint Astri Barrier first and stop them from restoring Loren.
Their greatest dilemma now was that even if Loren got back up, Imbalance Devourer remained without a counter.
Hyacinthus's cooldown was always faster than Loren's, which meant he utterly hard-countered Divine Heavenly Retribution.
Judging by Sigrid's attack power and Hyacinthus's all-around offensive, defensive, and restorative mastery, the only thing that could truly kill Hyacinthus was Divine Heavenly Retribution.
"Lanqi, your wolf was already used up detonating Blood Moon City, and its cooldown is a full month. Besides, even if we found Rasheal to use as fuel, that ultra-wide explosion might kill all of us without necessarily killing Hyacinthus," Abigail's voice came through the communications channel.
She was still in the central control room of the Voice of Truth corporate building, managing the broadcast, well aware of how grim the situation was.
Lanqi's Nuclear Fusion Wolf, when adequately fueled, was comparable to the Holy Polant Pope's Ever-Shining Destruction. And Ever-Shining Destruction was actually inferior to Divine Heavenly Retribution in pure raw damage.
What made Ever-Shining Destruction truly terrifying was its absurdly vast area of effect, but right now they needed concentrated, single-target destructive firepower.
"If we cannot bypass Imbalance Devourer, we cannot win. Hyacinthus will definitely save Imbalance Devourer for Divine Heavenly Retribution."
Sinnola analyzed Hyacinthus's counter spell. As an expert in counter magic, she likewise could not conceive of any tactical way for Loren to break Imbalance Devourer.
Even if Loren returned to the fight, he wouldn't dare unleash his lethal ultimate lightly, whereas Hyacinthus wouldn't need to hold back and could freely continue using Imbalance Devourer.
Even if they held out until Loren returned, finishing Hyacinthus off would still be nearly impossible.
Sinnola's conclusion plunged everyone into silence.
Hearing her words, everyone watching the battle felt a chill creep through their hearts.
A twinge of despair even rose up.
There was no light at the end of the tunnel.
Amid the dead silence...
"I think I've found the path to victory."
Lanqi gazed at the center of the battlefield, cross-checking the appraisal results of Imbalance Devourer with Pranay. His eyes gradually brightened as he muttered to himself.
Lanqi's voice broke the silence, and everyone turned to stare at him in astonishment.
They had no idea how Lanqi could make such a claim in a situation like this.
"How do we win?" Micaiah asked. Although she had met Lanqi only recently, it was not difficult to deduce from the stories she had heard over the past few days that Lanqi was never one to make wild boasts—he was the most reliable carry an ally could ask for.
"The moment he revealed Imbalance Devourer to me, his defeat was already sealed."
Lanqi turned around, not wasting a single second, and placed a hand on the shoulder of Frey, who was wearing a military overcoat.
Though the others did not know why Lanqi declared they had already won, his emerald eyes held an unshakeable resolve, as if he could see the precise route to total victory.
Whether they believed it or not, they had to believe him, because in a desperate crisis, Lanqi was all they had.
In their experience...
Anyone whose trump cards were witnessed by Lanqi was bound to taste the wrath of the Lanqi Clan.
The last person to suffer that fate was Askson.
"Frey, go fetch something for me,"
Lanqi whispered into Frey's ear.
"No problem."
Frey looked slightly surprised upon hearing the request, then cast a pitying glance at Hyacinthus before agreeing and setting off immediately.
"I should go help Sigrid now as well."
Having arranged the preparations, Lanqi looked toward Torriador.
"Torriador, please open a spatial gate for me and send me to the center of the battlefield."
Lanqi had maintained Black Sun Tyrant's Decree of Eternal Damnation for too long today, and had also supported Talia through a battle. His mana was running low, but he should still be able to lend Sigrid a hand.
"Give 'em hell, brother."
Torriador tore open an arc of silver spatial fire before him, allowing Lanqi to cross over a kilometer in an instant straight to the center of the ruins of Creti Memorial Square.
Lanqi nodded and stepped through the spatial gate.
Feeling Lanqi's summon, Talia understood implicitly and vanished from her spot, entering the possession state of the Demon King of Fanatical Love.
...
The grueling battle raged on, and the situation on the field grew clearer.
Hyacinthus had conjured three massive rings of sword aura across the battlefield, slowly rotating like clocks.
Sigrid had seen this move before. She had to accurately read and evade the rings as they expanded or contracted, or suffer fatal damage.
She had seen how Loren evaded it, but her fighting style was different; she lacked the corresponding spells Loren possessed to bypass it in the same manner.
Sigrid breathed heavily, the silver glow around her flickering erratically.
Blood flowed continually from her wounds, pooling into small puddles on the ground.
Yet the murderous resolve in her eyes never wavered, supported only by her extraordinary vitality to keep from collapsing.
In truth, Sigrid had a way to instantly restore her health.
[Tears of the Second Holy Polant Pope]
[Category: Spell Card]
[Rarity: Orange Epic]
[Attribute: Healing / Buff]
[Tier: 8]
[Effect: Condenses and consumes the user's mana and life force to temporarily revert the target to a younger state while restoring a massive amount of health. Cooldown: 135 seconds.]
[Description: The divine power condensed from the Second Holy Polant Pope's long years of prayer to the Moon Goddess. Had she mastered this spell sooner, perhaps she could have saved her Sun.]
This was the spell card she had obtained during their last Shadow World, Eternal Damnation Undying Finale.
However, she had already witnessed Hyacinthus's counter spell, Collapse of Causality, during his duel with Loren.
The moment she cast a spell before Hyacinthus's eyes, it was guaranteed to be interrupted, inflicting backflow damage on her while restoring Hyacinthus's health.
If she could successfully cast this super-healing spell, she could continue fighting Hyacinthus for much longer.
In contrast, Hyacinthus looked entirely at ease.
Though he bore a few wounds of his own, his aura had even begun to recover.
A cunning glint flickered in his eyes.
Suddenly, Hyacinthus looked past Sigrid toward the distance outside the barrier.
There, Sigrid's companions were watching the battlefield with bated breath.
"Sigrid, it's time to bring your curtain down for good."
The smirk at the corner of Hyacinthus's mouth grew more mocking.
"Perhaps your weakness is much the same as Loren's."
Unwilling to drag this out, he abruptly lunged toward the southern edge of the barrier.
Now that he had recovered significantly from the aftermath of Divine Heavenly Retribution, he had no need to let the Bishop of Domination pin him down in front. If he went straight to slaughter her companions, she would stop at nothing to intercept him—and intercepting was far harder than fighting head-on!
Sigrid's pupils contracted sharply as she realized his intention.
"You despicable coward!"
Gritting her teeth, she forced her exhausted body into a sprint to cut him off.
"Don't you dare!"
Sigrid roared, silver fire igniting over her fists once more.
Hyacinthus sneered, abruptly shifting tactics.
He had deliberately feinted a dash, baiting Sigrid into pursuing at full tilt, and she had taken the bait as expected.
And when her focus was entirely fixed on blocking him, an opening would appear!
"Where are you looking? Keep your eyes wide open—it's right here!"
Hyacinthus suddenly altered his strike, his longsword carving out a dark-gold linear slash while his clones launched a frenzied barrage.
The numerous clones he had summoned executed planar slashes, flitting across the battlefield like specters.
The previously lingering rings of sword aura converged upon Sigrid at the exact same moment.
With multiple slashes arriving simultaneously, Sigrid, having drawn too close in pursuit, had no room to evade whatsoever.
She realized she had walked into a trap.
Yet she had possessed no other choice.
Watching the dark-gold slashes close in rapidly, a wave of despair washed over Sigrid. She could only grit her teeth and prepare to endure the blow, unsure if her vitality would hold out.
Just as she braced for the agony...
A white-robed figure materialized on the battlefield, stepping squarely in front of Sigrid.
He intercepted the trajectory of the slash with nothing but his body.
With his back, he carved out—and maintained—a safe haven where the slashes could not reach.
"Heroic spirits of Cyros, pass through him, augment your might, and shred the woman behind him to pieces!"
Hyacinthus plunged his sword into the ground, detonating most of the earth ahead. Behind him, the heroic spirits of Cyros materialized in unison, their phantom sword stances poised to pass through the White-Robed Pope's defense without a blind spot and strike straight at Sigrid behind him.
"What manner of heroic spirits are you supposed to be?"
Through the silver-white mask he wore once more, Lanqi looked down upon those Cyros spirits with eerie green eyes. His tyrant-like figure stood as if elevated above a billion souls, unmoving.
In an instant, as if suppressed by pure status, the heroic spirits dared not approach this baleful aura echoing across time and space, and began to dissipate.
Hyacinthus was shocked to discover that whenever his sword pointed at the White-Robed Pope, its radiance dimmed considerably.
"Haven't you noticed? From the very first moment this sword struck me, it lost all effect."
Lanqi faced Hyacinthus across the distance.
Outside the barrier, the onlookers breathed a small sigh of relief for Sigrid upon seeing Lanqi arrive on the battlefield.
"What kind of cowardly blade is that? The moment it meets a higher status, it can't show off anymore."
Iphatia had grasped the gist of it: this sword was built specifically for suppressing commoners.
"How can someone invite their own self down to possess them as a heroic spirit?"
Bianca had roughly deduced why the White-Robed Pope suppressed the Cyros spirits from their exchange, but she was still astounded.
"Lanqi possesses a fifty-percent comprehension of the Black Sun. In the course of the Shadow World, even if he wasn't the Black Sun himself, he was practically half of one,"
Hyperion explained to the group. Moreover, the Red Legend card encapsulating the Black Sun Tyrant's legendary life was in Lanqi's possession.
The legend of the Black Sun Tyrant had long been etched into the space where the real world and Shadow Worlds intertwined, anchoring the world and piercing through history.
Even if the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros took full effect, it couldn't scratch Lanqi. Thus, when Hyacinthus first fought Lanqi, he hadn't realized—
The Holy Polant Pope was a legendary heroic spirit from an era tens of thousands of years ago who had nearly unified the entire continental map.
Meanwhile, the spirits within the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros had at best founded the Cyros Empire, which spanned less than a fifth of the Southern Continent.
"The modern leviathan of the Creti Empire only occupies two-fifths of the Southern Continent. And the Cyros Empire, as its predecessor and core, had not yet unified the Elsaya Sanctuary and the Vince Free Federation, truly holding less than a fifth. Furthermore, the Southern Continent is smaller than the Northern Continent. You could say that compared to the Holy Polant Theocracy, the Cyros Empire wasn't even in the same league historically."
The Ice Snow Witch calculated the imperial status; Lanqi truly had every right to ask the other side, "What championship did you ever win?"
...
On the Brillda battlefield.
Only after the sword aura dissipated did Sigrid, her heart pounding madly, realize she was unharmed.
"Sigrid, I'll protect you."
The masked pope had returned to the battlefield, speaking to her over his shoulder.
Pressing against Lanqi's back, Sigrid gazed in daze at the reliable figure shielding her under the sunlight.
"Lanqi..."
Her suspended heart seemed to find a resting place. Even on a life-and-death battlefield, she found that long-lost peace of mind.
In the distance, Hyacinthus scowled at the abrupt reappearance of the White-Robed Pope.
"You again?"
Hyacinthus felt a pang of disgust at the sight of this nuisance.
Unlike Loren, who was a Tier 9 and would still take damage from his slashes, this White-Robed Pope was bizarre beyond measure. No matter how he attacked, the man was completely unscathed. Furthermore, there was no visible casting motion to interrupt; he was like a phantom.
"What, afraid of me?" Lanqi asked with a smile.
"Heh, you really are more arrogant than anyone else."
Hyacinthus laughed at the pope's words.
"You're nothing more than another fish on the chopping block—merely the one thrashing the hardest. It's just as well; I'll strip your scales right now."
Laughing, Hyacinthus swung his blade, sending more linear slashes sweeping toward the pair with overwhelming force.
He understood well that this White-Robed Pope was an extreme specialist. While he possessed bizarre defensive capability, he had zero offensive power.
The White-Robed Pope's greatest weakness was an inability to pin him down. Ignoring him would be trivial.
Only now, with both the White-Robed Pope and the Bishop of Domination standing together, did things become somewhat troublesome.
"Lanqi, protect me!"
Sigrid took the chance to hug Lanqi tightly, using him as a shield to evade Hyacinthus's rings of sword aura.
With an invincible shield like Lanqi, Hyacinthus's slashes posed vastly less threat to her.
"Haha, that tickles."
It was hard to tell whether Lanqi was referring to Sigrid holding him or Hyacinthus's slashes scraping against him.
"..."
From the start, Hyacinthus had found no trace of casting from this white-robed fellow, as if he couldn't cast spells at all.
He could not deduce the mechanism behind the pope's invulnerability through combat, let alone counter it.
"Because I genuinely don't know how to cast spells, so you can't interrupt me,"
Lanqi explained, as if seeing right through Hyacinthus's confusion.
According to Loren's open-source breakdown, Imbalance Devourer could only target spells directed at Hyacinthus himself. Environmental spells, indiscriminate spells, self-healing, or self-buffing spells could not be absorbed by Hyacinthus.
Collapse of Causality could target all spells, but could only interrupt their casting. The most crucial detail of its appraisal was that it nullified "spellcasting." Meanwhile, Lanqi's Black Sun Tyrant's Decree of Eternal Damnation involved no casting process in front of Hyacinthus—as long as it wasn't toggled off, it stayed active.
Such was the noble supremacy of pre-cast spells.
*Damn it, Loren really open-sourced Hyacinthus for you,* Sigrid thought, somehow reading Lanqi's mind.
Still, she knew that being open-sourced wasn't the scary part. The terrifying part was being open-sourced to Lanqi.
"Heal yourself,"
Lanqi instructed Sigrid succinctly, letting her hold on to him.
Sigrid didn't hesitate. Regardless of whether Hyacinthus still had Collapse of Causality ready to interrupt her, she activated the healing spell from the Tears.
"Don't even think about it!"
Hyacinthus immediately picked up on Sigrid's casting motion; in fact, he had been waiting for it.
Halting all other actions, he prioritized disrupting Sigrid's casting, and sure enough, her spell fizzled out.
At the same moment, the White-Robed Pope's Tier 8 spell, Overflowing Land of Gentle Slumber, was unleashed.
Invisible mental mana rippled outward, carving translucent waves across the air.
Hyacinthus sneered.
He had naturally noticed both the White-Robed Pope and the Bishop of Domination casting at the same time, but he was certain the White-Robed Pope posed far less threat than Sigrid. Given a choice between the two, stopping the Bishop of Domination from completing her spell was paramount.
Suddenly...
Hyacinthus felt a violent jolt in his mind.
His pupils lost focus.
As if plunging into an entirely new world, the surrounding space rippled with unstable tremors.
...
When he opened his eyes again, the scene was entirely different from the ruined Creti Memorial Square.
Under a clear sky, looking up revealed an expanse of serene, radiant azure.
The spring sunshine warmed his skin, and the waters of the Creti Imperial Canal murmured crisp and melodious.
Memories began to trace their contours. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the sky shimmer with pixelated instability, accompanied by static in his ears. Beneath that flickering glow, the opposite side showed a city blazing in harsh, fiery red.
He shook his head. The grogginess faded, and the horizon cleared once more.
This was the city of Brillda, not far from City Hall. On the second-floor terrace of an estate befitting high birth and authority, he stood looking out over this beautiful city.
The Holbein family.
Deep red tapestries hung along the walls, their exquisite embroidery displaying the history and glory of the family and the Creti Empire.
"Today seems to be the National Day celebration...?"
The youth walked down the corridor and stairs with hesitant steps, entering a spacious, sunlit dining hall. Morning light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gleaming softly across the handmade wool carpet and the antique crystal chandelier, illuminating the entire room.
He raised a hand slightly, shielding his eyes from the disorienting brilliance.
When the white light receded...
He saw the long oak dining table draped in a pure white silk cloth. A uniquely crafted coffeepot wafted a rich aroma, while the butler poured coffee into everyone's cups.
His father, Marquis Holbein, was already seated at the head of the table, wearing a wine-red velvet bow tie. Silver strands glinted at his temples, his deep-set eyes exuding dignity. His mother wore a light purple silk gown, her smooth navy hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall.
The youth looked at his parents in confusion. Though it had only been a day since he last saw them, their faces felt strangely distant, as if he barely remembered them.
Until he noticed another figure beside the dining table, smiling and waving to him, gesturing for him to hurry and sit beside her.
That moment felt like eternity.
It rooted him to the spot.
His elder sister wore a pure white satin dress, her dark blue hair draped over her right shoulder, tied with a ribbon at the ends like a precious treasure.
If none of this was a lie...
Then his sister could have grown up smoothly, perhaps living a happy and beautiful life.
His lips parted.
Wait.
Why...
Why couldn't sister grow up?
A piercing pain tore through Hyacinthus's mind.
Flames fell from the edge of the sky, about to swallow everything, leaving behind not a single memory of his sister.
At the same time, in reality, Hyacinthus stood frozen in place, his eyes blank, as Sigrid's heavy punch crashed directly into his skull.
Accompanied by the crunch of bone and agonizing pain, Hyacinthus's eyes snapped back into focus, waking him from the dream.
He rolled across the ground several times, clutching his throbbing head as blood streamed from all seven orifices, frantically healing himself.
While not enough to kill him outright, taking a full-power vital strike from the Bishop of Domination meant that a few more such hits could shatter his skull and end his life on the spot.
In this moment, he finally understood how lethal the spell unleashed by that White-Robed Pope truly was.
It was a sweet dream destined never to come true.
"How dare you... manipulate my memories!"
Hyacinthus glared at Lanqi and Sigrid, his eyes bloodshot.
*Caliera, thank you for your power, still aiding me even now,*
Lanqi thought, pretending he had perceived nothing as he watched the remnants of the dream's mana disperse into the air.
When he had seen the effects of Hyacinthus's Imbalance Devourer earlier, Lanqi had finally understood how Hyacinthus managed to control Rasheal, practically reconstructing the entire sequence of events in the Hall of Divine Descent on the day Violet was murdered.
No one understood Rasheal better than Lanqi.
If Rasheal had judged Hyacinthus as a controllable target from the start and let his guard down, it meant Rasheal had keenly identified a Mind Laceration within Hyacinthus.
And any enemy bearing a Mind Laceration would find it equally difficult to resist the Land of Gentle Slumber.
"Caliera..."
Sigrid also sensed that, even now, her Caliera seemed to be protecting her.
It was as though her Caliera stood beside her, lending invisible aid to their battle.
"Sigrid."
Lanqi murmured Sigrid's name, confident she understood what had to be done.
When they cast together next, if Hyacinthus chose to interrupt Tears of the Second Holy Polant Pope, he would have to swallow Overflowing Land of Gentle Slumber and endure a lethal blow. If he interrupted Overflowing Land of Gentle Slumber, Sigrid could heal herself for a massive recovery. By supporting each other like this, they could hold Hyacinthus right here.
"I'm ready."
Sigrid took Lanqi's hand.
"Holding hands now, are we?"
Hyacinthus seemed to enter a stage of pure fury. His body began radiating a scorching, dark-gold glow like an erupting volcano, his attack speed and damage ramping up noticeably.
He swung his blade three times in succession: the first two unleashed linear slashes, while the third was a planar slash whose only safe zone was immediately around him.
Sigrid had to avoid straying too far while dodging the first two slashes so as not to be caught by the planar strike.
Yet what appeared before Hyacinthus were the twin figures of Sigrid and Lanqi.
Sigrid nimbly flashed forward with Lanqi, narrowly evading the first two strikes.
Then, holding Lanqi's hand, she turned him to face her, placing him in front to completely absorb the third attack that would otherwise have been impossible to dodge.
They danced in tandem.
Upon this deathly stage of endless slashes, they entrusted their bodies entirely to the partner they trusted most.
When they found another opening, Sigrid closed the distance once more, fist meeting sword. The shockwave radiated outward, sending both Hyacinthus and Sigrid flying backward.
"You two pieces of trash, get out of my way!"
From then on, no matter how desperately Hyacinthus tried to break through toward the southern barrier, Sigrid and Lanqi knocked him right back.
"Whatever we are, we're a pair."
Even as Sigrid continued to accumulate injuries, she showed no fear.
Hyacinthus no longer dared interrupt Sigrid's Tears of the Second Holy Polant Pope.
Because to him, the true lethal threat was Overflowing Land of Gentle Slumber.
As long as Lanqi didn't cast Overflowing Land of Gentle Slumber, Hyacinthus wouldn't gamble with Collapse of Causality.
If Lanqi and Sigrid cast simultaneously, Hyacinthus would only interrupt the dream.
And Lanqi's goal was precisely for Hyacinthus to interrupt it, recycling the mana back to him through the counter's backlash.
In truth, Sigrid knew Lanqi probably didn't have enough mana to freely cast Overflowing Land of Gentle Slumber again anyway.
Right now, they were purely using the threat of that spell to bait Hyacinthus's counter, cycling mana back and forth.
As the saying went, an unlaunched Progenitor bomb was the most threatening Progenitor bomb. Whether Lanqi could still cast it or not, as long as he held back, Hyacinthus didn't dare use his counter. Hyacinthus had only appraised the cooldown of the dream spell, but had no idea how much mana Lanqi had left.
"Your fate is to meet death right here! Fate cannot be escaped, and you won't slip away either!"
Hyacinthus's slashes grew stronger and stronger, and his wounds were healing as well.
After several clashes, Sigrid, having successfully used Tears of the Second Holy Polant Pope twice, had reverted to roughly the same age as Lanqi.
The two stood firm again, facing the dark, vicious Hyacinthus in the distance.
"Big sister will protect you,"
Sigrid said, squeezing Lanqi's hand tightly.
Lanqi was her most impenetrable shield, while Sigrid possessed the fists capable of threatening Hyacinthus.
"..."
Though Hyacinthus's expression didn't change, his eyes twitched involuntarily.
Sigrid suddenly realized that Hyacinthus seemed to have suffered a critical emotional blow.
"Oh dear,"
Lanqi looked toward Hyacinthus with an apologetic gaze.
As if he meant nothing by it.
"..."
Yet in Hyacinthus's eyes, that look was a blatant boast: *I have an older sister who loves me like this—do you?*
"I will tear you into shreds! Hack you to pieces! Grind your bones to dust!"
Hyacinthus roared in sheer rage, raising an endless sea of sword aura from the ground.
Meanwhile, in the invisible soul space...
Watching Lanqi and Sigrid fighting hand-in-hand while she could only watch from point-blank range, having to lend Lanqi her power so he could coordinate better with Sigrid, Talia couldn't help wishing she could find her good friend Countess Rosalinda in the City of Flowers and chug a few drinks.
...
Two kilometers away, south of the Saint Astri Barrier.
Everyone watched Lanqi and Sigrid's clash with Hyacinthus, palms sweating.
They were racing against time.
Lanqi's intervention and his combined combat with Sigrid had achieved a result far greater than the sum of its parts, stalling Hyacinthus for nearly ten full minutes.
Over on their side, Loren's vital signs were steadily stabilizing, but it still required time.
If the fight continued this way, it wasn't that Lanqi and Sigrid couldn't stall him.
Rather, Sigrid's body had noticeably shrunk.
While Tears of the Second Holy Polant Pope was a powerful sustain spell—capable in special circumstances of rejuvenating the user back to their prime—repeated, high-intensity use on an already young Sigrid would gradually turn her into a child.
Sigrid wouldn't be able to fight properly in a child's body, and she was drawing dangerously close to the spell's limit.
"I'll go stall him for you,"
the Second War God, Saron, spoke up. Gripping his pitch-black longsword, he stepped toward the barrier.
"Good luck,"
Torriador said, already prepared to bring Lanqi and Sigrid back as he expressed his gratitude to Saron.
Aside from Sigrid, only a peak Tier 8 like Saron stood a chance of surviving a couple of blows from Hyacinthus.
"Saron, the empire will still need you in the future. Don't you dare die,"
Ryan, the Ninth War God, grabbed Saron's shoulder, offering a solemn urging with reluctant eyes.
He knew how terrifying Hyacinthus was right now; Saron was walking into grave danger.
"Don't worry. I haven't read the Half-Demoness Arc of *Holy War Romance* yet. I'll hold out until Loren can rejoin the battle,"
Saron promised them.
Inside the battlefield, Lanqi and Sigrid seemed on the verge of exhaustion, no longer able to smoothly intercept Hyacinthus from pushing south.
*Damn,*
Torriador was instantly filled with respect for Saron.
The next instant, Saron vanished from the spot.
A flowing figure in black cloth armor flashed by as Saron leapt into the battlefield with sword in hand.
He drew his blade in a flash, an ultra-long-range iaido sword aura bisecting the battlefield between Hyacinthus and Sigrid.
Hyacinthus fell back temporarily to evade it, while Lanqi scooped up the shrunken Sigrid just as Saron landed ahead of them.
"Saron, you traitorous piece of trash,"
Hyacinthus said coldly, glaring at the man who had betrayed him.
"Hyacinthus, I have long grown disappointed in you. From this moment on, we are enemies."
Saron assumed a drawing stance once more, signaling for Lanqi and Sigrid to retreat first.
At the same time, an arc of silver spatial fire ripped open beside Lanqi and Sigrid. Lanqi understood immediately and leapt backward into it, returning outside the southern Saint Astri Barrier.
The spatial gate sealed shut behind them.
Those stationed outside could only watch the life-or-death duel between Saron and Hyacinthus two kilometers away in the center of the battlefield.
At the southern edge of the Saint Astri Barrier.
"Phew..."
Lanqi carried Sigrid back to the temporary safe zone outside the barrier, letting out a long breath of relief.
He looked down at Sigrid in his arms, acutely aware that she could no longer continue fighting in this state; she had already been forcing herself just now.
"Looks like I can rest for a bit."
Overcome with exhaustion, Sigrid slowly closed her eyes at the sound of Lanqi's voice. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she drifted off into sleep to take a short nap.
This exact moment mirrored that other time on the snowy plains of the Land of Evernight within the Shadow World.
Though she had been healing continuously throughout the fight, excessive recovery, brushing against death, the drain on her mana, and the intensity of a lethal duel had left her utterly spent.
"How is Professor Loren?"
Lanqi let Sigrid cling to him, cradling her to rest as if looking after Xigelei, and turned to ask Micaiah.
With Micaiah, the Ice Snow Witch, and Antanas consulting together, Loren had been dragged back from the brink of death and might regain consciousness soon.
"Almost there. We're trying to wake him,"
Micaiah answered without looking up.
So long as they held Hyacinthus off a little longer, then as Lanqi had said, once Loren was revived, the final piece for their victory would be in place.
The rest could be left to Lanqi; he would handle the rest.
"I'll leave Sigrid in your hands. Once I recover a bit of mana, I may have to go back in later."
Lanqi needed to preserve some mana.
He gently lowered the petite Sigrid, entrusting her to Talia, who had been summoned back out.
By now, Sigrid had turned into a young girl of barely ten years old.
Though her expressionless yet spirited look carried a hint of valiance, her facial features were undeniably gorgeous, and her light-colored hair spilled loose like silk ribbons.
Her sparkling eyes were like violets blooming in spring.
This sleep-deprived appearance bore an uncanny resemblance to the eleven-year-old Xigelei.
"You are..."
Hyperion stared at the small girl. She stepped forward, crouched down, and reached out in disbelief to touch Sigrid's cheek, asking in a daze:
"Xi...?"
This time, Hyperion was certain it wasn't an illusion.
Previously, she had merely thought Sigrid looked like Xigelei.
Now, looking at this ten-year-old Sigrid, it was unmistakably her little wolf girl returned to her.
"Uh..."
Sigrid looked away, neither confirming nor denying.
"We really were good sisters in the Shadow World..."
Sigrid mumbled, her voice growing smaller and smaller, as though unsure whether Hyperion would still acknowledge her as a sister.
"Waaah, Xigelei! I missed you so much! I thought we were separated by tens of thousands of years of time and space, that I'd never see you again!"
Hyperion hugged Sigrid tightly, looking up and weeping aloud.
These were tears of reclaiming what was lost, tears of joy.
"Xigelei?"
Even Talia was utterly dumbfounded, standing aside and staring at Hyperion and Sigrid locked in an embrace.
She felt as though the heavens had collapsed.
Her Xigelei had been right beside them all along—and the two of them had spent all this time fighting over the same man.
Chapter 852