Harvey had no doubt about Tiramisu’s words. He was merely approaching the state of a corpse, whereas Tiramisu was controlling an actual corpse.
Draped entirely in black, the corpse moved like a shifting shadow. Yet beneath those robes, the intensity of its physical modifications pushed infinitely close to the limit permitted by the mysterious chains. Even colliding head-on with Harvey, it gave no ground!
Without sorcery spirits or miracles, Tiramisu manipulated the corpse through nerve threads from her ten fingers with effortless precision, making it perform all manner of high-difficulty maneuvers and even traverse the battlefield to support her allies. She wasn't merely controlling the corpse—she possessed considerable combat prowess herself, coordinating seamlessly with it like seasoned partners.
Puppetry.
Harvey had never expected Tiramisu, a legendary sorcerer, to master an art that only mortals would bother studying. After all, necromancers could flawlessly command corpses with sorcery spirits; compared to that, puppetry seemed crude and inefficient, like being too lazy to cook once you learned how to order takeout.
Yet during the clash, Harvey noticed that Tiramisu operated her puppetry with almost gleeful enthusiasm. He realized he had misunderstood—cooking was a chore to some, but a pleasure to others.
Puppetry was probably Tiramisu's hobby.
A hobby enjoyed even by Tiramisu, however, was something Harvey decided he would try out in the future.
After all, in the sorcerer world, there were only two people he admired: one was the fountainhead of necromancy, "Necromancer Sovereign" Häagen-Dazs; the other was Tiramisu, the "Walking Reaper" who had revitalized the necromancy faction. In Harvey's eyes, her every gesture held deep meaning, making her an idol worth studying and imitating.
As for what Tiramisu meant, Harvey understood that as well. Her first two sentences were literal, while the unspoken subtext beneath "you cannot beat me" was: "whether we fail or not has nothing to do with you."
Even now, Blood Moon hadn't given up on recruiting him, and they didn't even need him to turn traitor. Once they left All Stars, he could defect to Blood Moon at any time, using the power of the Blood Moon Overlord to become a demigod.
By then, Tiramisu would likely become a demigod as well. Perhaps he could share a laboratory with the Walking Reaper, dissecting corpses and modifying undead day in and day out... A dream arrangement that practically no modern necromancer could refuse.
"Thank you," Harvey said calmly, pushing forward step by step against the corpse. "But I don't like you anymore."
Tiramisu paused slightly. "Why?"
"Because Rose bought me a lot of corpses. She treats me well." A cracked smile appeared on Harvey’s concrete-gray face. "She is my friend too."
The moment the words left his mouth, Harvey spun around and slammed into the young sorcerer nearby!
He had pushed forward all the way here precisely to create an opening to aid Vichy!
Even a necromancer understood that among the three battlefields, only Vichy, the strongest among them, had a chance to break the deadlock!
Yet, facing Harvey's ramming charge, the young sorcerer dueling Vichy neither dodged nor retreated. His right arm swelled violently, dark-ink scales erupting across it. As he met Harvey's charge head-on, his left hand transformed into a dragon claw and swatted away Vichy's spear in the same breath!
Boom!
Instead, Harvey was sent flying. Vichy's spear merely scraped sparks across the claw. Vichy was at the legendary rank in the spear and halberd faction, yet her full-strength strike couldn't breach the young sorcerer's dragon scale defense!
In this carriage, the young sorcerer was the only one who could still use sorcery spirits normally, freely dragonizing parts of his body at will!
Leaving aside why the mysterious chains hadn't triggered—perhaps heavily modifying one's body was treated by the chains as merely falling gravely ill—the more important factor was that while everyone else's imaginary wings were completely shattered and not a single drop of sorcery power remained in their souls, this young sorcerer could still get sorcery spirits to work for him at a loss!
Against a terrifying sorcerer capable of flouting labor laws and ruthlessly exploiting sorcery spirits like this, only Vichy could hold her ground. Yet after fighting for so long, the young sorcerer could still freely dragonize, occasionally unleashing miracles that forced out Vichy's Spear Flash—unleashing miracles without any sorcery power?!
This was no longer just exploiting sorcery spirits; it was sorcery spirits lending money to help the company survive a crisis. Even Vichy was at her wit's end.
Igola emptied an entire cylinder. Apart from scoring a few hits on the Curse Elf, the bullets had little effect even when they landed. He pressed bullets into the cylinder one by one, observing the battlefield: Niya, the weakest, could only maintain a stalemate, while Vichy, the strongest, couldn't score a quick victory. The battle had ground to a halt.
As for tricks like swapping opponents to pit superior horses against inferior ones, legendary sorcerers weren't fools, and it was hard to say who would collapse first. In theory, dragging things out wasn't necessarily bad, but the problem was...
Igola looked toward Car 3. The ceiling of Car 3 had already been torn open, its walls riddled with dents and craters as if ready to fall apart at any moment. Violent tremors shuddered through it from time to time, as though two behemoths were trapped inside, slaughtering each other.
Yaxiu and Amilo were in there.
Among the four demon followers, the strongest was none other than the legendary fist-and-claw sorcerer, Amilo. Even if the young sorcerer could use some sorcery spirits, his combat strength was vastly inferior to Amilo's.
During their prior discussion, Vichy had admitted that she could contend with Amilo for a while, but would ultimately lose over time. Even though she was a top-tier legendary physical combatant, a vast gulf still existed between weapon physical combat and fist-and-claw physical combat.
The crux of the matter was that executing a Fist Flash was far simpler than executing a weapon Flash!
No matter how handy a weapon was, there was always a physiological barrier between wielder and steel. If Vichy needed an interval of thirty seconds between each deliberate Spear Flash, Amilo needed only ten seconds, or even five!
It was even entirely possible that Amilo had mastered a Divine Might Technique!
The fist-and-claw faction had survived to this day precisely because of this unique natural advantage. Before reaching the legendary realm, the competitiveness of fist-and-claw sorcery was far inferior to weapon factions, not only due to destructive power, but also because attack reach was a major issue.
When a fist-and-claw sorcerer fought a spear sorcerer, the fist-and-claw sorcerer could well be stabbed to death before ever laying a hand on the spear user. Furthermore, switching from fist-and-claw to a weapon faction was exceedingly easy; the vast majority of fist-and-claw sorcerers suffered a few losses in the Void Realm and obediently respec'd into top-tier meta factions.
Yet once reaching legendary rank, the status of fist-and-claw and weapon factions completely flipped.
With no weapon acting as a middleman taking a cut, executing a Fist Flash was vastly easier for a fist-and-claw sorcerer. Under normal circumstances, a Fist Flash could be unleashed from fingers, palms, arms, and legs. While someone like Lehuai—who could unleash a Fist Flash even with his tongue—was extraordinarily rare, the lower difficulty and lenient threshold for triggering Fist Flash were enough to make a legendary fist-and-claw sorcerer nearly invincible.
Even in the outside world, Vichy wouldn't dare claim she could defeat Amilo unless she possessed a complete set of soul sorcery spirits. In the present Country of All Stars, where sorcerers' imaginary wings were broken and the mysterious chains imposed severe constraints, this was practically Amilo's invincible stage.
And for that very reason, Yaxiu had taken the initiative to draw Amilo into Car 3, buying time for the others to defeat the remaining demon followers.
And yet... and yet.
Everyone had already put their lives on the line. Harvey was preparing to inject his seventh vial, Niya took a shot to the thigh from the Curse Elf, and Vichy's spear moved so fast it blurred into afterimages. Igola clicked the cylinder shut and suddenly said, "Vichy, clear a path to Car 3 for me."
Vichy glanced at him. The young sorcerer, sensing an opening, lunged forward. But before Vichy's waist even turned, her spear struck first—a reverse thrust slammed into the young sorcerer's scaled forehead, shoving him back.
"Going in won't help. Yaxiu will just have to look after you instead."
"I'm going to swap with him." Igola gripped Evil Wolf tighter. "If he comes back, he can resolve this."
"Or you might get resolved first."
Thud!
A thunderous bang echoed from Car 3, followed clearly by the sound of someone flying through the air and smashing into a wall. Vichy's expression darkened, but Igola grew calm. "Gambling with my life isn't my style, but it is a deceiver's fate."
"You're crazy too." Vichy tightened her grip on her spear. "Run. I'll cover you."
Igola drew a deep breath. Ignoring Tiramisu, the Curse Elf, and the young sorcerer completely, he fixed his eyes on the partition door to Car 3 and charged—
Crack!
Right at that moment, the door was blown off its hinges, and the silhouette of a burly white-haired man burst out. Dressed in a black jacket and black trousers, he wore a cold expression, specks of blood staining his collar—looking like a lion fresh from attending a funeral.
Everyone held their breath at Amilo's return.
Niya stared in disbelief, looking ready to charge forward at any second. Igola instantly took aim at Amilo, his hands trembling slightly. Harvey lowered his eyelids, looking more and more like a corpse. Vichy remained expressionless, only her grip on her spear tightening.
Amilo took one step forward, then two, accelerating into a sprint as his face twisted into a savage sneer!
Splat!
Blood suddenly geysered from Amilo's back. His massive frame crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut, collapsing to the floor as a huge pool of blood spread beneath him. Only now did everyone realize that his body was covered in wounds. His black jacket was thoroughly soaked in blood, radiating a heavy metallic stench.
Tap.
Tap.
Everyone looked up to see a figure holding twin swords emerge from Car 3. His clothes were drenched in crimson, blood spattered across his face, and blood dripped from the edges of his blades. Behind him, almost every inch and surface of the carriage was densely covered in sword marks—resembling both a frenzied slaughterhouse and an exhibition of deadly art.
"That last strike broke my ribs." Yaxiu exhaled a bloody breath. "Hurts like hell."
Chapter 977