"Attack!"
Upon hearing the Chief's words, Derrick was taken aback for a moment before instinctively opening his arms.
During this process, his vision suddenly turned blurry as he let out an extremely repressed and deep voice.
A ball of light filled with holy flames descended out of thin air, engulfing Dark Angel Sasrir and Colin Iliad's figures.
Before the light exploded, Derrick pulled his arm back and condensed a blazing white "Unshadowed Spear" in his palm.
Amidst crackling sounds, the spear of light pierced through the holy flames and accurately hit the evil spirit's head.
Brilliant and blinding light bloomed, completely covering the area. Even Klein, who was restraining his crazy thoughts, couldn't dodge due to the close distance. He couldn't help but close his eyes and warp his face. He felt that Worms of Spirit were evaporating one after another, and he felt that the connection between the Blasphemy Slate and the True Creator's corrosive powers that had yet to be fully established had been greatly purified.
At the spot where a Sun seemed to rise, Dark Angel Sasrir's figure vaguely appeared. It twisted and swayed amidst the blazing white light and holy flames, fading away and melting.
Then, the shadows that covered the walls, stone pillars, and floor tiles began to disintegrate, revealing an orange-red glow inch by inch.
This palace, which was hidden in the Giant King's residence and coexisted with the real World, finally lost the power to continue maintaining itself. It was no longer isolated from the outside world.
This also meant that the special evil spirit that had lost connection with Chaos Sea had truly been purified.
Just as the shadow palace began to collapse but had yet to completely disintegrate, an invisible force finally penetrated the barrier and descended a little, causing the corrosive powers that had gathered in Klein's body to suddenly intensify!
They protruded out from Klein's chest, turning into a blob of pitch-black flesh and blood.
The flesh and blood immediately separated from Klein's body, severing the invisible connection with him. It rapidly squirmed and grew, turning into a giant shadow hand. It followed the illusory "light" between himself and the first Blasphemy Slate to grab the item.
Meanwhile, in the World of Dreams in the ruins of the battle of the gods, in front of the projection of the Giant King's residence.
Wearing a pointy hat and a classic black robe, Amon sat on the tall grayish-white railing with his back to the orange-red road that separated the sea of clouds. He leisurely looked at the grayish-blue gate covered with golden nails, not knowing how long he had been waiting.
Suddenly, "He" adjusted the monocle on "His" right eye and easily jumped down the railing, arriving at the door of the Giant King's residence projection.
"The power of Chaos Sea is beginning to dissipate. I can use that bug to enter directly …" As Amon muttered to himself with a smile, he extended his right hand and pressed it on the projection of the door.
"His" figure immediately softened and lost its sense of reality, "flowing" into the door like a ray of light.
…
Baekeland, somewhere on the battlefield.
Crestet Cesimir, who had short blonde hair and a pair of dark green eyes, knelt on the ground on one knee. He stabbed a pure white bone sword that was less than a meter long in front of him to support himself.
His body was riddled with charred holes and cracks that passed through his body. His teeth had already protruded and turned sharp, like those of a beast.
This high-ranking deacon of the Nighthawks, whose consciousness was beginning to blur, struggled to shift his gaze away from the weakened enemy not far away and cast it towards the sky.
The orange-red dusk had already invaded the dark night.
Crestet Cesimir tried his best to pull out the bone sword and get up to fight. He wanted to fulfill his final duty as a Nighthawk, but his arm was trembling violently. His breathing had already become weak.
In the astral world, there was an endless expanse of tranquil darkness filled with moon flowers, night vanilla, and other plants.
Suddenly, orange-red beams of light shone into the kingdom, returning a portion of the region to dusk. It caused the flowers and grass to wither one after another, on the brink of withering.
In the desolate dusk, a figure as large as a mountain walked out. "His" limbs were abnormally long, and "He" wore silver armor that exuded a sense of dilapidation. "His" face was covered by a visor, revealing only a blob of orange-red light.
"He" held a ridiculously long sword in "His" hand, allowing the tip to naturally droop and touch the dark "ground."
As the terrifying giant walked forward step by step, the long sword was constantly dragged through the darkness, causing the ground to crack and the dusk to freeze.
In the depths of the darkness, a similarly large figure dragged a long scythe and floated out.
"He" wore a black dress that was layered but not complicated. It was dotted with countless resplendence, as though it was embedded with the stars in the night sky.
Two arms grew out from "His" ribs and "His" waist. Their surfaces were covered in short, black hair.
Two of "His" six hands held the heavy black scythe, and two held a crimson "moon." One was empty, and the other held an ancient accessory that looked like it was made of gold.
The accessory was in the shape of a slender bird. It was surrounded by pale-white flames that formed wings. In its bronze eyes, there were layers of light that seemed to form illusory doors.
The giant wasn't surprised by this scene at all. "He" took faster and faster steps forward, gradually approaching the point of charging.
"His" long sword that was dragged in the darkness and dusk rubbed against its surroundings, producing bits of clear light of dawn.
At this moment, the moon flowers and night vanilla on the other side suddenly expanded and grew crazily. Soon, they became equivalent to trees that had lived in a primitive forest for more than a thousand years. They were densely packed and covered the "sky."
Amidst these trees, a figure that was wrapped in dark green vines and decorated with all sorts of herbs and flowers appeared.
"He" was also as huge as a mountain. "He" had a voluptuous figure, and "His" dress fluttered as "He" hugged an illusory baby.
As soon as the figure descended, it followed the twilight giant and flew towards the humanoid demonic wolf that was dragging the pitch-black scythe.
…
In the palace where the shadows were gradually disintegrating, although the corruption had automatically separated, preventing Klein from worrying about the latent dangers, this was equivalent to slicing away many of his Worms of Spirit. He couldn't help but let out a low gasp as transparent, distorted maggots with mysterious patterns crawled out from his warped face. His psyche was like a lake that had a boulder thrown into it. He was momentarily unable to calm down.
At this moment, a familiar figure was reflected in his eyes that were covered in a layer of blood due to the pain.
It was the Angel of Time, Amon, who was wearing a monocle and a pointed bonnet.
Amon smiled at him, scaring him so much that he immediately changed his mind and returned to Sefirah Castle.
Although this was a little letting down of The Sun, he felt that when he reached Sefirah Castle and had the power of an angel, he had a chance of saving him. After all, the influence of the outside world could already be exerted here.
But in the blink of an eye, the Angel of Time cast "His" gaze at the grayish-white Blasphemy Slate, at the shadow hand that was constantly growing stronger as the disintegration of the Land of Sleep deepened.
Amon immediately raised "His" right hand and adjusted the monocle on "His" right eye.
The crystal monocle immediately turned dark, as though it was a mixture of countless colors. It was difficult to describe.
In front of Amon, an illusory, terrifying, and slightly rippling deep "sea" appeared.
This Blasphemer had released some kind of power, or rather, a power that had been stolen from somewhere at some point in time!
The Blasphemy Slate suddenly trembled and emitted a buzzing sound, as though it had come to life.
It broke free from the remaining illusory "light" that wasn't stable enough between it and the shadow hand and suddenly threw itself at Amon!
This made Klein, who had barely recovered from the pain due to his horror, narrow his eyes. He couldn't believe his eyes.
The first Blasphemy Slate actually didn't choose the True Creator of the The Hanging Man pathway. "He" had sought refuge with the Marauder pathway's Angel of Time!
After a moment of shock, Klein vaguely understood the whole story.
Amon's true body had wandered the Forsaken Land of the Gods for more than a thousand years. He had entered Chernobyl and searched for the history of the Second Epoch and even before the First Epoch. He must have wandered the borders of Chaos Sea and done a certain amount of dangerous research to "Steal" something special. At that moment, "He" was only using this special release to attract the Blasphemy Slate.
To put it simply, this King of Angels had been preparing for this for a very long time, and the True Creator was still unable to fully descend at the moment. He had to wait for the Dark Angel's "land of slumber" to completely collapse.
But the problem was, why did Amon steal the first Blasphemy Slate? It's useless for "Him" to have it … "He" can't switch to the Spectator, Reader, Tyrant, Sun, or The Hanging Man pathways! Is it just because it's interesting? When the deities and my brother are plotting for this Blasphemy Slate, "He" suddenly interferes, steals it, and runs? But isn't it more important for "Him" to capture me? As Klein was puzzled by Amon's goal, he secretly retreated. He widened his eyes and tried his best to pry at the grayish-white slate's surface, hoping to memorize the potion formula he needed.
"Sequence 1: Attendant of Mysteries …" Just as the corresponding words reflected in his eyes, Amon reached out his left hand and grabbed the Blasphemy Slate. Then, he suddenly turned around and pressed his right hand on the grayish-blue door that was still covered in a small amount of shadows.
The figure wearing a pointed hat and a classic black robe immediately turned incorporeal, passing through the door and disappearing.
The shadow hand formed from Klein's corruption rapidly expanded as the "land of slumber" continued collapsing. Finally, it turned into a black shadow that chased after Amon and rushed out of the closed door.
In the next second, all the shadows vanished as orange light illuminated the palace where the Giant King had once lived.
In front of the iron-black throne, on the steps illuminated by the dusk, Colin Iliad's figure appeared.
He wore tattered silver armor, revealing his face that was covered in many old scars. He sat there quietly, like a warrior who had just finished his last battle.
His two swords of dawn had already been reduced to pieces, and his aura had vanished. However, Klein could sense that there were still remnants of his will and psyche. He couldn't bear to completely dissipate them.
When Derrick, who was at the bottom of the steps, saw this scene, his eyes reddened. He ran over, stumbling, and he didn't look like a demigod.
He quickly crouched beside Colin Iliad and shouted in a low voice,
"Chief …"
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