The entire Soul Hall began to tremble, the ground cracked open, and stones peeled off the walls.
Countless ghosts surged out from beneath the ground and the walls, emitting harrowing screams as they spiraled above the hall.
"I've heard your potential is quite remarkable. Beco a part of ."
The Ninth Primogenitor Marquis Bainhardt's grotesque body lumbered heavily toward her.
"..."
Isatia clenched her teeth tightly.
In the Shadow World battle reports she'd heard, this creature was always the first to fall, but facing him now herself, the pressure was overwhelming.
She still needed ti to grow.
If only she had another year—no, half a year—she was certain she could easily defeat Bainhardt.
But now, she could only gamble on whether she could break through mid-battle to reach Bishop level 87.
She felt that ever since being healed, she was already very close to the Bishop level.
The Ninth Primogenitor Marquis Bainhardt suddenly accelerated and rushed forward.
The runes on the altar grew even brighter, purple lightning crackled through the air, snapping audibly, while the stone columns surrounding the altar began to shake and the chains wrapped around them rattled harshly, making a piercing sound.
Facing the threat of death, Isatia understood there was no option but to fight.
"Damn it! For my beloved magical family, I'll fight you to the end!"
Her words barely finished before an imnse surge of magic power erupted around her, causing the ground to quake, dyeing the entire Soul Hall in darkness, while countless bottomless cracks spread like a spider web.
Then black cursed flas sprayed from the depths of the earth, and Isatia wielded these eerie black flas to tornt the Ninth Primogenitor, as if vengeful spirits were demanding his life, determined to burn this monstrosity to ashes.
...
Dozens of kiloters south of Blood Moon City, silver chanical birds glided by.
The Hall of Annihilation, overseen by the Eighth Progenitor Sorset.
The hall resembled an infinite coliseum, surrounded by pitch-black mountains, their jagged rock walls adorned with blood-red gemstones glimring with eerie radiance under the dim light.
Three mbers of the Great Demon Clan were cautiously on guard, locked in a grim encounter with the Eighth Progenitor Marquis Sorset, one of the Blood Clan's strongest warriors.
For their spells and barrier counterasures to succeed, Heratier might not even guarantee they could transfer them away.
Still, once the others' opponents were set, their own matchups would also be certain.
"The terrain of the Hall of Annihilation allows the Eighth Progenitor Sorset to vanish from sight."
Pranay said gravely.
He understood the characteristics of each hall.
For the three of them, facing a physically dominant Blood Clan fighter here was undoubtedly the worst scenario.
Sinola's spell counterasures were completely nullified.
"Antanas, stay at the rear. You must survive."
Sinola surveyed the battlefield once graced by Skeleton Lord Daimon Gate and rcury Lord Mishio.
She truly didn't have the confidence to confront the Eighth Progenitor Sorset directly.
At this mont, she could only steel herself to fight.
She and Pranay's most critical task was to protect Antanas. As long as Antanas lived, the two of them could recover.
At the instant the sound of rushing wind arrived, the Eighth Progenitor Sorset appeared.
Buzz!
The tal clanged explosively.
Sinola exerted all her strength to block with her scythe, but Sorset's punch carried the weight of a thousand pounds, effortlessly shattering the shield Antanas had cast. Sinola felt an overwhelming force even though she'd deflected it, leaving her unable to dissipate the blow entirely, and like a cannonball, she was slamd deep into the mountainside of the Hall of Annihilation.
"Sinola!"
Antanas scread, hurriedly casting protective magic.
"You still have ti to worry about her?"
But Sorset's pursuit was too swift; in the next second, he was already before Antanas, whose terrified eyes widened in shock.
...
West side of Blood Moon City.
The entrance closest to the city hall in this ancient underground tropolis bore the shadow of the blood moon, perfectly replicated by the magic device.
The towering, massive contours of the buildings on either side of the desolate streets, constructed from dark stone, sketched the shadows of ancient artistry, lying silently within this dark city, frozen in the dust of endless years.
Here, Abigail's chanical assistants floated around her, working to construct a chanical spatial barrier.
Small robotic dolls linked streams of electrical light to create a dinsional gate, through which supplies were being transported.
"..."
Abigail watched and listened intently as she monitored the battlefields all around, her eyes darting, sweat beading her forehead.
Not only did she have to command and convey information, but she also had to simultaneously establish a temporary base for the assault troops at the camp.
Barton and Hyperion stood firmly behind her, ensuring her safety and preventing interruptions during her construction efforts.
Suddenly, a figure streaked across the night sky, stirring a fierce gust and whistling through the city's air accompanied by a chilling aura, heading straight for Abigail.
That figure's flight speed was astonishingly swift, its near-perfect form indicating soone exceedingly adept in combat, even among the Blood Clan.
A glint of cold light flashed, and Barton's blade soared from beneath his cloak, striking the figure instantly. For a brief mont, the Count's body plumted like a teor, landing against the distant wall of the castle.
"Impressive strength."
Moonlight spilled onto the Count of the Blood Clan's black formal attire, giving him a faint silvery cloak of light, leaving him seemingly unscathed.
"Don't underestimate them. These humans are quite strong."
Countess Seberna let out a crisp laugh, stepping out from behind a corner.
"..."
Barton glanced at Hyperion. Hyperion nodded and retreated closer to Abigail.
Without hesitation, Barton charged toward the two Blood Clan Counts.
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