Sugar’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the deep crater left by Decimus’s attack. The terrifying destructive force had ripped apart the earth, shattering stone and soil and leaving a smoking pit behind.
The two-headed ogre shivered inwardly, knowing that even with his formidable defenses, taking that attack directly would have caused devastating injuries or possibly killed him outright. The worst part was that he did not detect anything until the attack landed.
Sugar silently thanked the white werewolf, Ouroboros, whose tily intervention had spared him such a grim fate.
However, gratitude was quickly pushed aside as Sugar’s instincts reminded him they were still amid a perilous battle. His eyes imdiately snapped upward, locking onto the imposing figure of a man with dark hair hovering in the sky.
Decimus, the scion of the Zanis Family, stood there imperiously, dagger glowing ominously with sinister flas of shadow. The arrogant cultivator looked down on the battlefield as if he were a sovereign judging the weak from above. Yet beneath that confident veneer, Decimus was deeply shocked.
Throughout his life, Decimus had assassinated countless Sages using this shadow-dagger technique. It was neither raw destructive power nor overwhelming strength that made his attack terrifying—it was the sheer stealth and unpredictability of his strikes, thanks to his Laws.
No one before had ever anticipated, let alone avoided, his hidden attacks. But Ouroboros had sohow sensed the incoming danger and reacted with impossible swiftness, saving not only himself but Sugar as well.
This revelation struck Decimus with unease. A talent like the white werewolf, who could evade his stealth attacks and respond at unimaginable speeds, was an extrely dangerous existence.
While Ouroboros would undoubtedly be valuable to Graecia and the Golden Sky Fortress in its ongoing struggle against the Vorotallicae Race, Decimus had no intention of allowing such a threat to persist.
For Decimus, anyone talented enough to potentially challenge him in the future must be eradicated imdiately, regardless of the empire’s future needs.
Cold fury filled Decimus’s eyes as his dagger pulsed with dark flas. The shadows began compressing around the blade, reducing their range but exponentially enhancing their destructive potential. In the blink of an eye, Decimus’s form blurred, becoming one with the darkness itself and vanishing.
Ouroboros’s eyes narrowed sharply, and his entire body tensed with anticipation. He could feel the murderous intent in the air, his instincts screaming of imminent danger. As a veteran of countless battles, Ouroboros had stood on the front lines during the devastating Leviathan War.
Danger and doom had long beco familiar companions—this was rely another deadly encounter in a lifeti filled with lethal battles. He slowed his breath, his senses expanding to their fullest. Then, without hesitation, he pivoted abruptly to the left, raising his defenses just as Decimus erged from the shadows, his dagger aiming precisely for the werewolf’s throat.
Thanks to Ouroboros’s exceptional instincts and combat prowess, the deadly dagger rely grazed his fur as he twisted aside at the last possible instant. Not missing the chance to counter, Ouroboros spun and delivered a powerful kick directly into Decimus’s ribs, causing the arrogant assassin to grunt in pain and stagger backward, breaking his stance.
Decimus’s face twisted with disbelief and frustration. The werewolf’s reaction speed was beyond imagination, leaving him astonished and off-balance.
Furious, Decimus allowed his physical form to morph, shifting fluidly into a half-shadow, half-human shape. This transformation dramatically increased his agility and made his movents unpredictable. He lunged forward, dagger slicing repeatedly through the air in blinding patterns.
Ouroboros, though powerful, found himself unable to mount a direct counterattack and was forced to focus solely on dodging.
Sugar imdiately saw the predicant Ouroboros was in. His dual heads roared in unison as he charged to provide assistance, war hamrs held at the ready. But just as he stepped forward, a wave of azure flas erupted in front of him, forcing him to halt.
Valeria stood there, bloodied but far from defeated, her blue flas crackling dangerously. Her expression twisted into a malicious smile as she blocked Sugar’s path.
"Hmph! Where do you think you’re going?" Valeria sneered, clearly intent on settling her personal grudge with Sugar. The ogre gritted his teeth, turning his attention fully back to his relentless opponent.
Norman and Tyron also saw the increasingly perilous position of Ouroboros. Their initial instinct was to rush to their ally’s aid imdiately. They were nearly victorious against Valeria’s four subordinate Sages, who were struggling against their relentless pressure. However, breaking formation at this crucial juncture could waste their hard-fought advantage, allowing their foes to rally or escape.
As the dwarf and the runemaster hesitated, Jormungandr’s voice echoed decisively across the battlefield. "Focus on our battle."
Norman and Tyron looked at the small yellow cat with surprise. Ouroboros was a Depravita, their comrade, yet Jormungandr’s order seed to suggest indifference. But when they saw the firm resolution in the cat’s eyes, they understood.
Jormungandr wasn’t callous—he simply believed in Ouroboros’s capability. Respecting that trust, Norman and Tyron swiftly turned back, re-engaging their battle against Valeria’s four subordinates. Their energies exploded violently, a renewed wave of killing intent flooding outward as they pressed forward relentlessly.
Seeing that no one would intervene, Decimus smiled coldly, sensing victory within his grasp. "Hahaha! Your friends have abandoned you to die!" His mocking voice rang with arrogant disdain, trying to unsettle Ouroboros’s resolve.
However, the white werewolf’s mind and heart remained unshaken. Ouroboros had long since grown immune to psychological tactics. He focused intently on each movent, evading with perfect precision. Yet, suddenly, as Decimus slashed down once more, Ouroboros appeared to stumble. The werewolf fell to the ground, apparently vulnerable.
Decimus’s eyes flashed triumphantly as he saw the montary flaw in his foe’s defense. Believing Ouroboros had finally exhausted himself, he lunged forward eagerly, aiming a vicious downward strike to end the battle decisively.
But this stumble was intentional. Ouroboros smiled, revealing his fangs in a predatory grin. In the next instant, a surge of Depravita Aura erupted from within his runic armor. His entire body burst into a gale of wind, vanishing completely from Decimus’s vision. Before the assassin could react, Ouroboros reford directly beneath him, delivering a brutal kick upward, striking the dagger and pushing the arm skyward.
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