Chapter 1064
Chapter 1064
“What?”
Raon stared in total disbelief as Denier drove his blade directly into the heart of the Leader of the White Blood Religion.
‘What on earth is happening?’
He had braced himself upon detecting the sudden shift in Denier’s gaze, expecting an onslaught, yet the blade aimed at his own throat had abruptly turned to run the Leader through. The shock of this moment eclipsed even the treachery when Lecross was struck down.
-Has that lunatic completely lost his mind?
Wrath blinked in sheer disorientation.
-Why on earth would he impale that oversized mosquito queen through the chest? And what in the world did he mean by calling her mother!
Wrath clutched at his temples, thoroughly unable to fathom Denier’s motives.
‘Is this some perverse ritual designed to streamline the takeover of Martha’s vessel?’
Raon considered whether Denier was destroying the physical form of Martha’s mother—presently possessed by the Leader—in an effort to bestow greater power upon her spirit. In truth, no other logical explanation surfaced in his thoughts.
‘No, that cannot be true.’
Observing the genuine terror in the Leader’s eyes and the trembling fury of her voice, it was abundantly evident that she had not anticipated this betrayal in the slightest.
‘This is no staged performance. He truly intends to kill her.’
The Leader had displayed unfeigned horror when Denier ambushed her precisely as she attempted to dislodge Martha’s spirit and claim her flesh.
‘Furthermore…’
Raon narrowed his gaze, taking note of the dark, coagulated blood spilling from Denier’s lips.
‘The Leader struck back at him as well.’
She had detonated the latent sorcery embedded within Denier’s flesh, tearing his internal organs to shreds. Going to such catastrophic lengths would be meaningless if this were mere deception.
“Unhand me, you traitor!”
Unleashing a violent wave of sanguine power, the Leader sought to blast away the steel impaling her chest along with the man wielding it.
“Ghh…”
Yet Denier stood fast, his stance firm as though his limbs had taken root in the earth. Despite his eyelids fluttering from the agonizing torment wracking his frame, his grip on the hilt burying the blade in her chest never wavered.
“Guh…”
Martha coughed up crimson drops as she was caught in the peripheral storm of the Leader’s surging aura alongside Denier.
“W-what in the world are you doing? Why did you turn your blade against that fiend?”
Even while wracked with agonizing pain across her flesh and spirit, her eyes locked onto Denier rather than the abominable cult master.
“Answer me!”
A faint spark of yearning flickered across Martha’s gaze.
“Because your spirit remains tied to your mother’s, your limbs will fail to obey you despite the binding spell fading.”
Denier slowly shook his head, never releasing his hold on Martha’s fingers.
“Nngh…”
A grimace twisted Martha’s features.
‘It is just as he warned; drawing breath feels nearly impossible.’
A dense fog clouded her mind as if she had swallowed poison, and her limbs felt unmoored from reality. Were it not for the fierce torment radiating across every nerve, she might have presumed she had already perished.
“Is this the path you choose to walk? Very well. I shall consume this girl’s vessel whole and make you drown in endless regret.”
A cruel sneer curled the Leader’s mouth as she glared down at Martha.
“Aaaargh!”
A shriek of unendurable agony tore from Martha’s throat. The Leader’s spirit surged forward with terrifying violence, once again attempting to conquer her physical form.
“Stay strong.”
Denier tightened his clasp on Martha’s trembling hand when she tried to pull away.
“Picture a blade within your grip and manifest the mantra of the Crushing Ocean Sword.”
“Ghh…”
Though the sting of Denier’s earlier deceit still burned, the horrific anguish inflicted by the Leader compelled Martha’s instincts to murmur the sacred formula of the Crushing Ocean Sword. A soft, amber glow bloomed from her skin like drifting motes of golden light, steadily unraveling the tyrannical red haze that was strangling her consciousness.
Her pupils, which had been fading into a lifeless gray as her senses slipped, gradually regained their deep, pitch-black clarity.
“Ah…”
Martha gazed at Denier with a dazed expression as the searing torment across her flesh and soul began to subside.
“W-what madness is this!”
The Leader’s mouth gaped in disbelief as she witnessed Martha repelling the spiritual encroachment.
“You miserable wretch! What have you done to her!”
Her teeth ground together in fury as her furious glare shifted away from Martha to bore directly into Denier.
“The art of possessing another mortal’s body is something you and I share in method. Thus, I developed a martial discipline engineered specifically to tear it apart.”
Denier inclined his head, revealing that the Crushing Ocean Sword was an art crafted from its inception solely to shield Martha from harm.
“You ungrateful cur!”
The Leader roared, her voice shrill with venomous wrath.
“After every ounce of favor and warmth I bestowed upon you!”
“Unlike the raw malice you direct at me this very moment, all the praise and affection you ever displayed were nothing but fabricated lies.”
Denier let out a ragged breath as he confronted the burning crimson fury in the Leader’s pupils.
“My entire existence may have been woven from deception, but for this single day, I choose to breathe as a true and honest man.”
After assessing Martha’s stabilized state with intense focus, he offered a resolute nod toward Raon.
“Mother’s mastery over the realm of the spirit surpasses every being under the heavens. She possesses the power to fracture her soul into countless fragments; thus, even if Father… no, even should the Destructive King of the North Glenn Zieghart descend upon this place, completely eradicating her soul would remain beyond him.”
Denier furrowed his brow, bearing the intense torment ravaging his insides.
“The singular chance to utterly extinguish her soul arises solely during the instant she transitions between physical vessels.”
His knuckles whitened as he declared that he had engineered this exact crisis specifically to bring an absolute end to the Leader’s life.
“Ah…”
Martha’s quivering gaze looked up at Denier in stunned silence.
“You have truly lost your wits!”
As the Leader shrieked while spraying gore, the eyes of the towering Godly Blood Summoning Ritual assailing Raon rolled back within its skull. Manifesting horrific crimson energy across its massive axe and spear, the summoned avatar swung its weapons downward, hellbent on obliterating the motionless Denier into ash.
“Perish!”
Denier turned his calm, unyielding eyes toward Raon instead of the Leader, displaying absolute faith in the young swordsman’s protection.
-What madness is this…
Wrath scowled deeply, entirely unable to make sense of the unfolding chaos.
‘Damn it all…’
Raon clenched his jaw until his teeth ached as he triggered the Supreme Harmony Steps. Employing the pinnacle footwork taught to him by Denier, he blurred across the earth to intercept the descending executioner’s axe of the Godly Blood Summoning Ritual. As he parried the brutal strike using Heavenly Drive, every tendon and joint in his frame cried out in sheer agony. His stamina and spiritual strength were already teetering on the precipice of collapse.
‘Even so…’
The towering abomination was in no better condition. Given that it failed to instantly crush him despite his heavily battered state, the Godly Blood Summoning Ritual had clearly lost a vast portion of its original might.
“You have my gratitude…”
Denier spoke quietly toward Raon’s broad back.
“Do not mistake this for trust.”
Raon responded coldly without glancing behind him.
“Focus on whatever you must do. I will hold this line.”
He vowed to withstand the assault no matter the cost, turning aside the relentless barrage of heavy arms unleashed by the Godly Blood Summoning Ritual.
“Martha…”
Denier lowered his gaze with gentle earnestness, holding her hand fast.
“The time has come. The remaining struggle belongs entirely to you.”
He urged her to continually channel the Crushing Ocean Sword to push back the Leader’s spirit and the suffocating blood tide.
“I hear you…”
Martha bit hard on her lip as she looked into Denier’s eyes.
“Once this slaughter reaches its conclusion, you will tell me everything from the very beginning.”
“…I swear it upon my life. I shall recount every word to you myself.”
Denier seemed to harbor countless things left unsaid, yet he chose silence over further explanation.
“Nngh!”
Martha gritted her teeth, unleashing the formula of the Crushing Ocean Sword with every shred of determination left in her being. As pure, untainted energy radiated across her frame, translucent gore surged from the Leader’s mouth and pierced chest. Denier contributed his own strength as well, invoking the Crushing Ocean Sword beside her to forcefully expel the invading essence.
“Ghh…”
The Leader gnashed her teeth as pure white ichor spilled from her wounds. Her gaze flashed with terrifying intensity as her crimson energy began rolling forward in monstrous waves once more. Suddenly, trails of blood leaked from the corners of both Martha and Denier’s eyes. It was obvious their spiritual cores had suffered a devastating concussion under the Leader’s oppressive assault.
“My soul reigns supreme above all existence! How dare petty insects like you dream of overpowering me!”
The Leader cackled with derision, mocking their efforts as an egg attempting to shatter a mountain.
“Urgh…”
“Kah…”
Bearing out her boast, Martha and Denier gasped in agony, their heads drooping under the crushing weight. The gulf separating their spiritual realms was overwhelmingly vast.
“I shall not grant you the mercy of a swift demise.”
The Leader glared down at the shuddering form of Denier with an icy smirk.
“I will seize the flesh of that very brat whom you threw away everything to protect, and with her own hands, I shall sever your windpipe.”
She grinned maliciously, reveling in the prospect of slaughtering Denier using Martha’s own limbs.
“Ugh…”
Denier persevered with the Crushing Ocean Sword, husbanding even the breath required for speech, yet he seemed on the verge of total collapse.
“Keep your vile maw shut, you filth.”
Martha raised her chin and sank her teeth viciously into the Leader’s forearm as the monster mocked Denier.
“Futile squirming from a creature already stepping into the grave.”
The Leader chuckled contemptuously, treating the bite as nothing more than the pathetic spasm of a dying animal.
“This sacred soil is far too good for a monster like you.”
Martha curved her blood-smeared lips upward into a defiant grin.
“Allow me to drag you into a pit of torment befitting your sins.”
Though her fingers were empty of steel, she pressed her quivering hand over her heart as if drawing an unseen blade.
“Devil’s Prison.”
The entire atmosphere across the battlefield plummeted into freezing stillness at Martha’s dreadful incantation.
Towering portals of damnation, weeping fresh gore, erupted from the pale terrain. Upon the surface of the left portal hung the taxidermied, horrifically mangled remains of the 10th Apostles, frozen in eternal agony.
“Impossible!”
While the Leader’s eyes flared wide in shock, an ear-splitting wail shrieked across the void as the right portal of damnation swung open. As the entryway parted, discharging an apocalyptic wave of absolute zero frost, Martha, Denier, and the Leader were instantly frozen where they stood.
With the heavy groan of rusting iron hinges, the demonic gates shut once more, as if their grim task had reached its completion.
‘Can it be…’
Raon narrowed his gaze upon the shut portals of the underworld, noting the trio of lifeless bodies left standing upon the earth.
-It is so. That domain claimed nothing but their very spirits!
Wrath nodded, verifying his suspicion without delay.
-A realm of trial not unfamiliar to your own encounters.
He explained that their consciousnesses were undoubtedly locked in mortal combat beyond those terrifying gates.
‘In that case, assaulting the empty shells before me accomplishes nothing.’
The outcome of this grueling war would be determined strictly within the depths of that hellish threshold. Raon sharpened his focus, parrying the heavy blows of the Godly Blood Summoning Ritual, which fought tirelessly to shield its creator.
‘The danger here is immense.’
If his deduction held true, Martha had virtually no prospect of surviving a direct clash of souls against such an ancient monster.
‘I must make ready as well.’
Raon gripped the hilt of the Blade of Requiem tightly, its spiritual edge vibrating with savage sword mantras as it tasted the boundless malice radiating from the cult master.
‘For the confrontation that will decide everything.’
Splash!
A sea of crimson gore rolled beneath the terrifying portals where the taxidermied corpses of the 10th Apostles remained displayed.
“What is this realm…”
The Leader scanned the horrifying panorama submerged in scarlet fluid. Her brow twitched in annoyance as her eyes drifted over the preserved remains of the 10th Apostles.
“A Sword Domain forged solely for your damnation.”
Perched high upon the crest of the hellish structure, Martha stared down at the Leader with a chilling, predatory smirk.
“Your wretched soul will be nailed down right beside them.”
Martha thrust her finger toward the vacant expanse flanking the right side of the gates.
‘I hold the advantage here.’
Unlike the previous Devil’s Prison unleashed upon the 10th Apostles, this iteration constructed specifically for the cult master functioned as a Sword Domain that ensnared the soul rather than physical flesh.
She had purposely structured the domain in this fashion from the beginning; had the outer shell perished and been preserved, her mother’s life would have been extinguished along with it.
“A battlefield of pure consciousness, is it…”
The Leader observed her own form, realizing her spiritual body bore none of the mortal wounds from the physical world.
“This sensation is intimately familiar to me.”
She offered a calm nod, easily grasping the nature of the space, an expression bordering on contentment washing over her face.
“Seen from this vantage point, the flavor of your soul appears exceptionally sweet.”
The Leader curled her lips into a cruel smile, openly musing on how delicious it would be to dominate and consume Martha’s spirit. Just as both combatants gathered their power, preparing to trade strikes, Denier’s form materialized and crashed down beside Martha.
“What?”
Denier blinked in astonishment, examining his own limbs.
“Why do I manifest in this guise…”
Within an ethereal plane reserved exclusively for spiritual essence, he could not comprehend why his presence, which in truth was merely red fluid, materialized in the unmistakable form of Denier.
“Cast aside your useless questions and put your focus entirely on the monster before us!”
Martha gave Denier a firm, decisive nod.
“Understood. I will.”
Though the mystery lingered in his mind, Denier cast aside his confusion, recognizing that this dire struggle allowed no room for idle thoughts.
“So both of you willingly march down my throat.”
The Leader sneered, spitting out a globule of ethereal blood. Before an eye could blink, her spiritual form materialized right before Martha. Martha effortlessly diverted the Leader’s martial technique with her blade, carving a deep, vicious furrow across the woman’s flank.
“Nngh…”
Instead of scarlet blood, bursts of pale white essence evaporated from the Leader’s midsection. Her very spiritual essence had sustained legitimate harm.
“How curious.”
The Leader hardened her fist and lunged forward once more. Martha cleanly knocked aside the incoming punch with her weapon, driving the steel directly into the cult master’s shoulder. Seizing the gap carved out by the Leader’s stumble, Denier lunged in and slashed a clean, devastating line across her midriff.
“Haaah…”
Reeling backward from the impact, the Leader surveyed the leaking wounds upon her shoulder and belly with growing annoyance.
“I see the trick now. The very fabric of this territory is actively eroding my soul’s strength.”
She scowled, looking down at the churning ocean of blood that felt as though it was dragging heavily at her footing.
“Your wit serves you well. That is precisely its purpose.”
Martha coldly affirmed the property of her Sword Domain.
“Given the impossibility of elevating my soul to match yours in so brief an instant, I simply ensured your soul would be dragged down to ruin instead.”
This terrifying authority had been forged through the sacrifice of her own life energy, sealed beneath an unbreakable vow never to draw a sword again once the Leader’s spirit was nailed to the demonic gate.
“You have surrendered a staggering price. Such relentless willpower deserves recognition.”
The Leader nodded in mock appreciation, acknowledging the sheer scale of the sacrifice.
“Keep your worthless praise to yourself.”
Martha dropped into a low, lethal stance, determined to sever the monster’s life in the coming breath.
“Very well. Then I shall place my own existence upon the scales.”
Biting down on her lip, the Leader clapped her palms together, prompting a dazzling blaze of radiant white brilliance to erupt from her frame. Like a pair of shadows cast by a rising pale moon, the Leader’s spiritual form began bifurcating into two distinct identities.
The presence that stepped toward the right manifested as the woman with raven hair and obsidian eyes—the true owner of the vessel the cult master had commandeered.
By contrast, the entity looming on the left was a woman of uncanny, terrifying beauty that sent an icy dread through the soul. She was an unearthly creature possessing skin as unnaturally white as chalk, her sharp fangs distinctly visible behind parting lips.
“I shall feast upon your spirit within this cage and claim that shell as my own.”
The crimson-haired, scarlet-eyed fiend curled her lips in a vicious sneer. This terrifying visage was the undeniable true identity of the Leader.
“Mother!”
Recognizing that the dark-haired figure collapsing into the ocean of gore was the true spirit of her mother, Martha dashed forward, abandoning all caution. Yet the Leader, refusing to allow any touching reunion between parent and child, snapped a vicious kick straight into Martha’s chin.
“Aaaagh!”
Martha shrieked as she was sent hurtling violently into the crimson depths.
“Do you know the truth?”
The Leader angled her chin upward, casting a disdainful glance at the fallen woman behind her.
“Ever since my power waned, your mother constantly resisted from within. Had she not sabotaged me, you and Raon Zieghart would have fed the worms long ago.”
She spat in irritation, detailing how Martha’s mother had continuously impeded her control.
“Seeing as I have no desire to inhabit that vessel again…”
The Leader’s figure dissolved like vanishing vapor.
“I shall slaughter your mother first, then grind your soul beneath my heel.”
Even under the suppressing weight of the Sword Domain, the aura of the soul she unleashed completely outmatched anything Martha and Denier could muster. In a single heartbeat, brutal strikes hammered into their torsos and faces, sending both crashing into the crimson tide.
“Cough!”
“Guh!”
Without even mounting a viable defense, both combatants lost vast swaths of their spiritual essence under the Leader’s tyrannical suppression.
“Did I not proclaim it? My spirit towers above all mortal things. Petty shackles such as these can never restrain me.”
The Leader laughed arrogantly, closing in on the battered pair.
“I will hold the vanguard! Put everything into your blade!”
Denier shouted, stepping forward to bear the brunt of the assault so Martha could strike.
“Understood!”
Martha bit her lip, bringing her weapon high. Yet Denier was obliterated on the very first clash, his arm ripped away as he was thrown through the air, while Martha, stepping into position to deliver a decisive counter, collapsed backward as a violent rupture tore through her leg. The Leader slammed her foot down upon Martha’s fallen frame.
“Kah-ha!”
Pure white spiritual light erupted from Martha’s lips as her spirit withered at a catastrophic pace.
“Get away from her!”
Having reformed his severed arm, Denier charged forward with a desperate slash, but the Leader evaded the edge with contemptuous ease before unleashing a counter technique. Denier’s chest split wide open, copious waves of his spiritual vitality hemorrhaging into the air. The Leader extended a deathly pale hand and hoisted Denier into the air by his throat.
“Urgh…”
Denier wheezed, his vitality depleted to the point where even basic movement was denied him.
“How utterly pathetic.”
The Leader sneered at the broken pair with supreme contempt.
“To think insolent vermin like you truly believed you could overcome my spirit.”
She tilted her chin toward Martha, eyes gleaming with sadistic hunger.
“Consuming both the parent and her offspring simultaneously will be a novel feast; I wonder how sweet the flavor will be.”
Just as the Leader ran her tongue across her pale lips and extended her grasp toward Martha, a violent tremor tearing through the space behind her caused her hand to freeze.
“This horrific resonance… it cannot be!”
The instant the Leader whipped around in frantic alarm, the ocean of blood that had been churning like molten slag ripped wide open, and an incandescent crimson blade ascended from the depths. The Blade of Requiem, saturated with ancient grudges and spiritual fury. Raon’s Soul Sword tore across the fabric of dimensions, plunging directly into Martha’s Sword Domain.
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