Chapter 142: The Autumn of Adolf (Twenty-eight)
The output of the entire team relied on the holy sword in George’s hands, and his magical power was nearly depleted. Every opportunity for attack was built on sacrifice. The half-mad Jima fiercely flapped her three pairs of blue wings behind her. She used a more powerful labyrinth spell to “cut” a gap in the space where the Eternal Chosen was trying to teleport away. To keep her in place, she charged forward, but all of this was within the calculations of the Eternal Chosen.
Just as though it had been rehearsed, the Eternal Chosen swung his sword with both hands, and it looked like Jima had thrown herself at him. Her upper body was slashed diagonally, with wounds deep enough to reach her ribs, and her entire body was almost severed.
At the cost of her serious injuries, Jima exchanged for a fleeting moment of combat opportunity.
George seized this thin chance, piercing the shoulder armor of the Eternal Chosen with his sword, leaving an indelible scar on his flesh.
A knight wielding a lance fell, and George used the opportunity to inflict another wound on the Eternal Chosen.
A bloodthirsty maniac rushed in, defying the curse, also sacrificing his life to provide the Eternal Chosen with another sword opportunity.
Blood streamed down from his head, blurring George’s vision. In silent communication with Jima, he could feel her growing madness.
The Eternal Chosen was already battered, but still fought with ease.
Jima’s sanity fluctuated, and sometimes when she snapped back to reality, she realized she was loudly chanting their battle plan:
“Blind his eyes! Blind his eyes!”
If they didn’t blind his eyes, they wouldn’t be able to continue fighting. Her body was already covered in wounds, with mucus and black blood splattering everywhere, but she just wouldn’t die. The Eternal Chosen seemed to have grown weary; his sword no longer wielded the power it once had.
The Eternal Chosen swung yet another sword at her, which actually didn’t hurt much; it just caused some organs to burst.
As George was about to rush in to seize the opportunity, a Keeper suddenly attacked from the misty outskirts. Covered in red spots, nothing hindered her swiftness; no one came to help George intercept her. Many had already died, and there were only two or three knights left, the battlefield was nearly deserted, littered with countless failed corpses.
The Keeper successfully obstructed George, and the Eternal Chosen took full advantage, bypassing the severely injured Jima and launching a sneak attack on George from over twenty meters away.
Eve Frostleaf was drenched in blood. Like a madwoman, she pulled back her silver bow and shouted, “Die! Die!”
She cried: “Die! Die!”
But just like all their previous attacks, the arrows crashed against the chest armor of the Eternal Chosen like waves, shattering into dust. The bowstring snapped, blood dripped from her injured fingers, and more demons overwhelmed this nearly maddened elf.
The Eternal Chosen leaped in front of George and declared, “Victory belongs to me!”
“No!”
It was Skari the Sword Saint who emerged, and no one knew what he had gone through. With superb swordsmanship, he forged a path, killing his way toward the Keeper.
The Keeper’s tail, like a hook, swept toward Skari the Sword Saint. His great sword embedded deep into the Keeper’s backward-curving leg, but his shoulder was pierced and he was flung away, a chunk of flesh hanging from the barbed tail. Skari the Sword Saint fell into the pile of corpses, his fate unknown.
But in this moment, George broke free from the Keeper, successfully using that strike to block the fatal blow. The two swords clashed, and under the immense force, both swords bent like soft noodles.
George asked, “Your victory?”
They exchanged attacks and defenses.
“Yes.”
Jima had already pounced toward the weakest Keeper; it was in her nature to target the weak first. The tumor covered with tentacles flung its appendages to bind the Keeper’s limbs, dragging her over. Jima lunged at her and began eviscerating her in a frenzy, but at the same time, the musk from the Keeper enveloped Jima, affecting her psychological state.
Her emotions grew more intense—arrogance, greed, anger, hatred, vanity all surged within her.
“Victory is here!”
The Eternal Chosen seemed to have found the opportunity to kill Jima. He swung his sword, slashing through space, almost instantaneously appearing near Jima, who was thirty meters away from George.
George immediately activated the Charge of Light and almost instantly appeared next to Jima, facing the Eternal Chosen with a counter-strike.
An anomaly occurred!
Suddenly, a figure appeared behind the Eternal Chosen. The moment they manifested, the Eternal Chosen changed the direction of his sword arc and swung it backward.
Before the sword could cleave flesh, the figure brushed against the side of the Eternal Chosen’s face—it was Arcanis with white hair.
The sword struck, taking Arcanis’s life in that fatal blow, but before he succumbed, he astonishingly evaded the attack—he appeared like a rubber man, his body flickering into shadows.
Even so, a sword exploded through his side, and amidst the explosion, Arcanis disregarded the blood and flesh that splattered from him, lifting a single eye with his silver hand, a playful grin on his face.
Running and shouting, “Hey! I stole it!”
It was the eye used by the Eternal Chosen for foresight. Arcanis adhered strictly to the eighteen-second rule; as long as he hid long enough, even if the target knew he would steal it eighteen seconds in advance, he would still have a chance.
“Die!”
The Eternal Chosen mused.
Arcanis’s wounds exploded again; he screamed as he forcefully crushed that eye, then flew out of the battlefield, hidden from sight by demons, his life unclear.
George couldn’t afford to be distracted by him, for the Eternal Chosen had once again slashed through space and teleported behind Jima, swinging down with his sword.
George couldn’t accept Jima’s death. He suddenly erupted, dashing towards the Eternal Chosen. Perhaps due to the loss of his foresight abilities, the Eternal Chosen was not as invulnerable as before.
He slashed at Jima, and George blocked him with a sword. This wasn’t merely a block; this strike could almost be considered the best he had ever delivered in his life. His strong blade halted the weak blade of the Eternal Chosen’s long sword, his blazing edge stirring and deflecting sideways.
The shockwave of the explosion roared towards the two, yet it couldn’t shake these two great warriors in the slightest; the corpses on the ground rolled away from the force.
George continued the trajectory of his sword, slicing towards the Eternal Chosen’s neck. This strike was a combination of offense and defense; his sword simultaneously protected and attacked, and he saw through the Swordsmanship of the Eternal Chosen.
But why hadn’t the Eternal Chosen seen this future? Had he lost his eyes?
However, George didn’t hesitate, betting all his remaining magical power, he unleashed the Sacred Slash. The holy sword hummed, glowing as it cut into the neck of the Eternal Chosen, slicing through the steel-like spinal column, becoming lodged within.
In that moment, time felt as if it had frozen. The two stood atop a mountain of corpses, with George’s holy sword wedged in the neck of the Eternal Chosen while the crossguard of his holy sword trapped the Eternal Chosen’s long sword, preventing a counterattack.
The Eternal Chosen did not use his last bit of life to retaliate but instead strained to entangle George’s holy sword with his long sword, trying to stop him from cutting off his head, but that was merely a futile attempt to quench his thirst with poison.
George said, “You have lost.”
The Eternal Chosen replied, “The eighteenth second.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the shockwave impacted Jima, and all her wounds exploded once more, the tumor fragment bursting apart, turning into mush, and spreading to the upper half of her body.
The second explosion, the Eternal Chosen had been setting the pace, just as he had used the second explosion to leave Arcanis’s fate uncertain.
Two voices screamed in Jima’s mind. One voice came from the ground, a detachment of tumor mass, still sprouting black hairs. It said that as long as she accepted it as her body, she could escape calamity.
Without hesitation, Jima was controlled by her instincts, and under the influence of the Keeper’s musk, she lost her last shred of rationality. She hugged her upper body tightly, crying out, “My tiny waist! My chest! My face!!”
With all her strength, she tried to resist the explosive force, merely to protect her remaining beauty.
Jima succeeded, at least retaining her human form. The power of the explosion burned her black, tumbling to the ground, leaving behind only a mass of charred soft flesh from her waist down, resembling a piled-up grave, while her charred upper body looked like a tombstone made of burned wood.
“No!”
George had already exhausted all his strength; now he roared, attempting to channel more power to sever the head of the Eternal Chosen.
It seemed Jima still had a breath left; if he could quickly kill the Eternal Chosen and obtain his crown fragment for her, she could be resurrected!
George’s eyes went bloodshot.
The swords entangled, producing a terrifying metallic screech as the holy sword gradually passed through the Eternal Chosen’s spinal column.
Two…
The Eternal Chosen raised his hand, and a pitch-black crown fragment flew toward the Eternal Chosen’s head, completing the final gap: “Eleven seconds.”
At this moment, George’s holy sword was piercing through the neck of the Eternal Chosen, but the Eternal Chosen had gathered all the crown fragments in his hand and grasped the blade of the holy sword, saying, “You have lost; I have won.”
The Eternal Chosen Marus had crowned himself king, and the Demon King’s crown was absorbing all the magical power around him, instantly becoming a small “great vortex,” strengthening the body of the Eternal Chosen.
In an instant, the Eternal Chosen Marus gripped the blade of the holy sword with force, forcibly pulling it out of his neck with such power that it staggered George, who was trying to control the sword.
The wind shifted; all the gusts rushed toward the Eternal Chosen, and all the flames scorching the buildings were blown toward him. All the demons and magical beings present ceased their fighting and surged towards the Eternal Chosen, witnessing Marus’s crowning as king. The magical beings knelt and paid him homage.
The only one still aiming a sword at the Eternal Chosen was George; the demons were eagerly preparing to feast on Jima’s corpse, but she was still twitching, the power of the curse polluting the surroundings, temporarily making it impossible for anyone to approach.
George held his breath, focused, preparing to charge the Eternal Chosen with another strike.
“Still not giving up?” The Eternal Chosen, surrounded by demonic winds, flew into the air like a superman, landing atop the highest mound of corpses, looking down at the injured George: “Well, let you witness me crowned king. You shall be the first offering to my queenship!”
Gathering the fragments of the Demon King, he became even stronger, but there was still one last wish to fulfill.
Previously, the Eternal Chosen used the wish granted by gathering the fragments of the Demon King to erupt all the volcanos, destroying the Ice and Snow Wall of Kisliv. This time, he wished:
“Today, all my defeated enemies, all the deceased, their powers shall belong to me!”
The moment he finished speaking, countless tangible substances surged in from all directions—from the hooves of the dead, riders, Jima, and the thousands of soldiers who had perished…
All flowed into the body of the Eternal Chosen. Great power surged constantly within him, his wounds healed, his height increased, and his armor grew thicker and taller. A black cloak unfurled behind him; he stretched out his arms, and the hurricane centered on him, blasting towards George with an overwhelming momentum.
George was extremely unwilling; his armor creaked, but in the end, he had no choice but to half-kneel, supporting his body.
“Hahahaha…”
Laughter echoed from above.
George felt despair. Was everyone’s sacrifice going to be in vain?
In the end, the crown piece of the Demon King surrounded the Eternal Chosen Uru, looking down at the half-kneeling George with tremendous pride, saying:
“You were destined to fail; I possess the power of prophecy, allowing me to make ten errors while you can only afford one. From the beginning, you should have never let that despicable creature Jima become the chosen of the four gods.”
George felt increasingly sorrowful. Jima’s choice for him to become among the four gods was not to save the world, but to save herself; what did it matter if the world perished?
Tears welled at the corners of his eyes, yet before the mighty enemy, George had to show no weakness. He nearly bit through his back teeth and stood up unsteadily.
Advance! Advance! He had to advance.
The Eternal Chosen applauded and said:
“A somewhat meaningful act, but no brave one can kill me. I am now comparable to a deity; your head will witness all my journeys, as the entire world will forever escape the fate of being toyed with by the four gods. Look! Jianqi, your schemes are futile. Oh, Blood God, you fickle one, abandon me, and I shall still succeed.”
The dawn burst forth, and the rising sun shone upon the earth.
“Look! Hero, even the sun rises for me! Look at this burning empire; if that so-called Sigma truly exists, then why do I not see it appearing as I slay almost all the people of the empire?”
As more and more demons and magical beings gathered, the square in front of the Sigma Cathedral cleared.
At this point, the Eternal Chosen discovered that the Hammer of Sigma shone brightly, preventing the other demons from desecrating the corpse of the imperial emperor beneath the Sigma statue.
But what use was that?
The empire was burning, nearly turned to ash. The Adolf Palace was also ablaze, reaching the emperor’s palace, where a painting hung on the wall, depicting the comet with two tails streaking across the sky, heralding the end of days.
In a moment of haziness, the Emperor of the Empire opened his eyes to see the flames reaching up to the sky. The royal guards lay dead on the ground, along with many loyal soldiers; only the magical beings and demons stood.
Had they already lost? Everyone had fallen. They had trusted the wrong person. This was all a punishment for me; I was only an ordinary person, ruining everyone. I could do nothing, yet the Eternal Chosen fell with just a few strikes. The true emperor of the empire, with the help of so many good people, had long since succeeded in protecting the empire. Yet I had usurped his position…
“Boom…”
The thunder rumbled.
But if possible, I would give everything to protect the empire.
“Boom!”
A bolt of azure lightning struck the chest of the emperor, now wide open. He had no arms, but the lightning erupted, forming arms. The electric vortex throbbed in his chest, and his eyes were filled with lightning.
The emperor rose before the Sigma statue, raised his hand, and the Hammer of Sigma flew into his grasp. The surrounding demons surged towards him, but he shot lightning from his eyes, turning them to ashes. He walked step by step towards the Eternal Chosen, with every step making his figure appear taller.
“What are you? Sigma? Or the Emperor of the Empire?”
The Emperor gripped the Hammer of Sigma tightly, charging forward: “For the Empire!”
The Eternal Chosen, holding his sword with both hands, shouted: “Die! Deity!”
Saying this, he swung a sword at George.
