Chapter 643: Battle between Three Underworld Patriarchs? [4]
“Oh? And how do you plan to do that?” Orvane asked with keen curiosity. Directing his gaze toward Marek’s black sword, he said:
“Your [Great Divider] is indeed a powerful item, capable enough to cut through even my armour. But what good will it do if you can’t kill me in a single blow?”
Orvane raised his right hand and clenched it, feeling his blood rushing through his veins. “For countless generations, the blood of my family’s great ancestor had been keeping us alive in more ways than one. Not only does it grant us a heightened sense of smell, but also a potent healing factor that grows in relation to our strength. With my current power, it is impossible for you to beat m—”
“Heavenly blood?” Marek repeated with disdain, “You speak highly of the cursed blood between a man and a dog. Despite you being an exception, your family are nothing more than mutt pups born with the deficiency to keep it in their pants.”
Despite the truth in Orvane’s statement, Marek’s mask of indifference only cracked when he discovered a chance to insult the Darkhound.
“As for my plan, initially, I had planned to keep my actual self hidden from you, holding out on revealing myself until I discovered a chance to deliver a killing strike with the help of Yamigarasu. But alas, such a plan didn’t e to fruition.”
Orvane hummed before sighing.
“I see, such a simple plan, though—is it not? And must you mock and insult my blood like this? We were once close friends, don’t you recall?”
Marek smirked in amusement.
“Consider it a family trait. We Roselles have a habit of insulting and interrupting others when we feel like it.”
“And what benefits do you gain from insulting me?” Orvane asked, the muscles on his face wrinkling in disdain and humiliation, “All you’re doing is limiting the amount of patience I have for you. Do not believe that because of our past relations that I am not prepared to put you dow—”
“Tch, you speak as though we were that close.”
Kicking off the ground, Crown of Roses shot towards the Hound of Ruin, crossing over 2.5 miles in almost an instant.
SWOOSH…!
Then, while grasping the hilt of [Great Divider] with both hands, which radiated an oscillating crimson light, Marek slashed downwards—
SWISH!
—Unleashing an energy slash over half a mile long!
This towering slash was immediately avoided by the Hound of Ruin, who watched as the attack cleaved halfway through the three-mile-tall mountain.
Orvane leapt into the air, manifesting small mana platforms beneath his feet. He felt a rush of excitement at the destruction caused, his blood rushing quicker through his veins.
Marek leapt at him again, his mana and strength still at an all-time high.
For the next ten minutes, both the Hound of Ruin and the Crown of Roses fought each other with might that reshaped the land.
Despite never clashing once, their strikes left the mountain range to form mile-long chasms and hundred-metre-deep craters; the result inevitably triggered several landslides to occur.
Marek ran through the air, using the same technique Orvane was using to stay up.
“As expected of someone who reached the Martial King Realm.” Orvane muttered, “You haven’t yet lost your touch. Your time on the frontline still kept you sharp, I see!”
“Mind staying still so I could cut you down?”
SWISH!
Hound of Ruin dodged again, this time with an enthusiastic grin beneath his visor.
“I prefer not to yet.”
Backing off several metres, Orvane glanced around at the torn surroundings, admiring the ruin caused on the mountain range. While a part of him deeply respected Marek’s strength, there was a large portion of him that found himself suspicious of the Assassin.
Throughout the exchange, the Roselle had voluntarily engaged in conversation with him. In the past, this sort of thing was extremely unlikely to happen unless the Assassin was planning something.
Dashing the idea that Marek could’ve changed over the years, Orvane decided to fall into the Assassin’s palm—curious about what would happen.
“Tell me, what do you know so far about the ranks above and below the 3rd Tier?”
Deciding to continue on attacking, Marek spoke in between strikes:
“What do I know so far? Odd question to ask in this situation, but I’ll answer it, since it does no harm.
“Those under the 3rd Tier are your average mages, most unwilling to go through another Trial, either out of fear, lack of strength, or having yet to find a suitable party for the required God’s Value. People in the 3rd Tier are usually the same, except for the lack of strength.
“However, that changes after reaching the 4th Tier. Individuals in this category are usually considered part of the top brass in their respective organisations due to their strength. And unlike people in the 3rd Tier and below, those in the 4th Tier aren’t afraid or lack the strength to take on a Trial, but are rather restricted due to their circumstances. Similar to what you’ve said before, things such as responsibility hold back a mage on their path to Ascension, like myself. Mages in this Tier are always needed elsewhere for their strength and experience. However, there are—of course—exceptions.”
Crown of Roses slashed his sword in a flurry, unleashing three—
“[Trifold Petal Storms]
—Spiralling storms of illusory petals that had a razor-sharp edge to them, which caught Orvane off guard.
‘I haven’t seen this technique before!’
He narrowly dodged out of the way and watched as the three crimson petal storms ripped through the mountain behind him before circling back around to chase him.
His pupils shrank to a pin-sized.
With extreme speed, he climbed and leapt through the air, closely chased by the [Trifold Petal Storms], which moved like a swarm of migrating locuses. Eventually, he was caught and pletely swallowed by it.
A moment after the [Trifold Petal Storms] dissipated, Orvane was left stripped pletely of his armour and poorly damaged—something that was fixed a few seconds later.
After healing almost instantly, Hound of Ruin stared at the cloud of reflective dust around him. He frowned a little and felt pain from losing his armour, but this feeling didn’t last long.
“What an impressive technique! Did you develop this one yourself, or did you learn it somewhere?”
Marek chose not to answer the Hound of Ruin’s question. The technique he had just used was one he developed for a special type of monster out at the frontlines. It was still in its experimental phase, but he was glad it worked out well enough to take off the Darkhound’s armour.
He huffed and continued where he left off:
“The difference between a Tier 5 mage and a Tier 4 is like night and day. If ascending to Tier 4 was like taking a step towards the deep pond of strength, then ascending to Tier 5 was like entering waist-deep into the pond. Exceptional mages of this Tier are granted a magnitude of benefits and strength, but unlike Tier 4 and below, they are given restrictions.
“From what I’ve heard, by being a Tier 5 mage, you would be tied to a God that has the highest affinity with you, regardless of whether that God had died or not. Until you gain their respect and goodwill, your mana output and volume would be locked at 30% of what they would’ve been. Because of this, the classification ‘Pseudo’ was added; those who hadn’t gained the goodwill of their God were called ‘Pseudo-Grandmaster’ mages or ‘Pseudo-Tier 5’.
“It was because of this reason that the Four Cardinal Saints were such a fearsome existence, being granted 100% of their power upon ascension. As for anything above Tier 5, I have no knowledge of it. In all of history, there had only been one Tier 6 Mage, but he has been long dead.”
Hound of Ruin nodded solemnly, “Zama Macro, the Eastern Hero who killed the first Apex Dread.”
Crown of Roses raised the tip of his sword towards Hound of Ruin.
“While in my suit, I had scanned your current mana output and pared it to the data I had saved in the past. 17 years and you still haven’t gained the goodwill of your God?”
Orvane shrugged indifferently, “The task he set out for me is one I cannot achieve in broad daylight and get away from doing without consequences. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: the restraints that bind me will disappear soon enough after what I’ve got planned.”
“Is that so?” Crown of Roses blinked coldly, “Then, how about I place another restraint on you?”
Without warning, several drones appeared and encircled Orvane; their palms stretched out towards him.
Hound of Ruin gave a curious look as he watched them individually fire nets made of metal strings. His eyelids lowered as they fell onto his body, trapping him. And when it did, he sensed something happening to his body.
‘A stunning enchantment?’
“Do you really expect something like this to keep me still for long?”
Crown of Roses hummed, “Long enough for what’s next, yes.”
Hound of Ruin nonchalantly raised an eyebrow before noticing something blocking the moonlight over him.
Flap! Flap! Flap!
Before he could make an effort to look up—
SCREEEEECH!
—A supersonic soundwave crashed into him from above, forcing him down from his place several miles in the sky.
BOOM!
After crash-landing and getting back up, Orvane’s eyes widened as he met the sight of a humongous black bird. It had a wingspan of 180 metres and was 60 to 70 metres long. It had three eyes, each an ominous bright red, with dark rings in its pupils that gave a hypnotic illusion.
On its back was the King of Ravens, Yamigarasu, who had just about pletely healed now from the devastating blow he had suffered.
His body was draped in a long, flowing robe made pletely of black flames.
With a motion of his lance, the King of Ravens ordered:
“Attack again, Tsukyomi!”
The humongous raven reeled back its head before firing off another supersonic soundwave, which was closely followed by several Eclipse Beams from the King of Ravens.
Hound of Ruin endured the soundwave, which pushed down on his body with the weight of several tons. Then, without a change in expression, he leapt back into the air, narrowly dodging the Eclipse Beams.
As he was about to reach the humongous raven, he was abruptly intercepted by a gigantic mechanical hand that slapped him out of the air.
BAM!
Landing somewhere nearby, Orvane raised his eyes and watched as the mountains around him began to tremble before growing mechanical limbs and standing up.
He widened his eyes.
Were these made and placed here beforehand?
No, they couldn’t have!
The mountains that rose looked familiar to him for some reason. They were all heavily damaged and had long, deep ravines in their faces; they looked like the exact ones the Crown of Roses tore apart along the way here!
‘Then, all of this must be the work of—’
Before his thought could end, Marek’s voice echoed across the valley:
“[Manifest Greater Inheritance: The Cogna Imperative].”
Standing high above in the sky, Marek looked down on Orvane as a mysterious geometric pale gold halo manifested above his head; it had thin glowing lines and nodes that shifted constantly to form plex diagrams and shapes.
With each shift, another mountain he struck during his onslaught rose like a fortress powered with gears and cogs. Soon enough, more than a dozen mountains grew limbs and began making their way over to Orvane. And as they did, they were each followed by a swarm of ravens.
Staring upwards and finding himself to be surrounded on all sides, Orvane’s expression cracked, revealing an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Both Crown of Roses and King of Ravens showed a mixture of expressions.
A moment later, they both spoke in unison:
“”Prepare yourself, for we both will be going full power from this point on.””
Hearing this, Orvane laughed loudly, his jaws opening wide enough to reveal his sharp fangs.
“THEN, E!”
With his arms stretched far out to his side, he leapt towards them like a savage beast.
To take on a Pseudo-Grandmaster mage, with experience like Orvane, it required at a minimum ten average Tier 4 mages.
However!
The enemies that Orvane faced were far above average; basically, at the peak of what their Tier can acplish!
Thus, despite only being two of them, the strength they displayed was more than enough to make up for it.
The battle between the three Underworld Patriarchs continued. The land was torn apart, mountains were split and destroyed, and valleys were reduced to nothingness. And as the battle ensued, their location constantly shifted.
Currently, with the direction the battle was leading, they were on track to arrive at the Darkhound territory by tomorrow evening.
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