Translator: CinderTL
Bang! Crack! Hiss!
The thunderous clash of weapons echoed across the plains outside Golden Grain City, the ear-splitting metallic clang tearing through the air.
Each collision sent teeth-grinding metallic screeches reverberating through the battlefield, punctuated by the muffled explosions of Battle Qi and the hissing of corrupting fel energy.
The human soldiers' shield wall buckled and shattered under the relentless assault of demonic beasts.
Razor-sharp claws tore through chainmail, obsidian greatswords cleaved through shields, and every inch of earth was soaked in blood and viscous fel energy.
Severed limbs and shattered weapons littered the ground, the dying groans of soldiers mingling with the demons' roars in a macabre symphony.
Caught between the abyss's fury and the nine hells' cold-blooded assault, the soldiers' formation was like a lone ship in a raging storm, sinking inch by inch.
Meanwhile, another part of the battlefield raged with even greater intensity.
Boom!
Silver battle qi cascaded down, shattering mountain ridges and sending rubble flying.
"Damn it!"
Malcolm cursed as he narrowly dodged an incoming sword strike, his earlier elegance now completely gone.
Fine wounds covered what had once been smooth skin. One of the backward-curving horns atop its head had snapped off.
Crimson blood flowed ceaselessly from the wounds, sizzling as it dripped onto the ground, sending up wisps of white smoke.
Watching Monen effortlessly evade Balot's powerful strike once again, Malcolm's eyes flashed with resentment and helplessness.
"Stupid beast! If not for the chaos in the nine hells, why would I ever associate with such a fool?"
Sensing Malcolm's disdain, Balot turned angrily, raising its flame-wreathed great axe to express its displeasure to its companion.
But in the next instant...
Bang!
A slender silver figure, dwarfed by Balot's bulk, suddenly struck like a comet, sending the abyssal demon crashing to the ground with a single blow.
Roar!
The earth trembled as Balot twisted its massive body upright, launching another assault.
Though the abyssal demon possessed terrifying strength, forcing even Monen to temporarily retreat, its movements remained painfully slow.
To Malcolm, his "companion" resembled a top being whipped relentlessly.
"Tch, I was planning to keep it for research," Malcolm muttered, glancing at his trembling hands, his gaze turning cold. "Its strength is fading faster than expected. I can't delay any longer."
With that thought, he raised his hand and made a grasping motion in the air.
In an instant, a crimson, pulsating heart materialized in his palm.
"Celeste, that fool, finally hasn't disappointed me this time."
Malcolm examined the still-beating heart in his palm, its scarlet flesh entwined with ominous black-purple veins.
A cruel smile twisted his lips as he clenched his fingers tightly.
"By bloodline as the guide, by kinship as the lock..."
The guttural Devil tongue hissed like venomous snakes.
The heart convulsed violently.
Dark crimson threads materialized from thin air, forming a twisted web that spanned space in an instant, ensnaring Monen, who was locked in fierce combat with Balot.
"Ugh!"
Monen's massive frame shuddered violently, and he let out a stifled roar of pain.
The silver battle qi surrounding Monen flickered violently, as if splattered with ink, its brilliance fluctuating wildly.
A profound weakness, originating from the depths of his soul, suddenly seized him, as if something vital was being forcibly torn from his body.
Bang!
Seizing the opportunity, Balot swung his massive axe, wreathed in abyssal flames, in a devastating downward strike.
Normally, Monen would have easily evaded the blow, but the sudden loss of strength slowed his reaction by a fraction of a second.
Clang!
He hastily parried with his sword, the deafening impact sending him sliding backward over ten meters, his feet carving deep furrows into the ground.
The arm holding his sword tingled with numbness. His once-vast silver domain visibly shrank and dimmed, like a candle flickering in the wind.
Malcolm watched from afar, elegantly wiping the trace of heart's blood from his hand, a cruel smile of impending victory spreading across his face.
"Do you feel it, King of Mortals? This is... the power of blood ties."
A ruthless glint flashed in Malcolm's eyes as his incantation grew more urgent.
The crimson bloodlines suddenly blazed with light, searing into Monen's limbs and bones like red-hot branding irons.
"Ugh!"
Monen groaned in agony.
His once-proud posture began to stoop as if bearing a crushing weight.
His bulging muscles rapidly withered, his broad chest shrank to a gaunt frame, deep wrinkles etched themselves into his weathered face, and his thick hair turned ashen and brittle in an instant.
In mere breaths, this mighty king had aged into a frail, hundred-year-old man.
Yet this terrifying transformation abruptly halted at a critical threshold.
"Damn it!" Malcolm cursed under his breath.
He had reached the limits of his power, unable to complete the bloodline stripping.
But it was already enough.
Monen's aura had withered, his once-vast silver battle qi now as thin as dying embers. He gasped for breath, barely managing to stay upright by leaning on his longsword.
Malcolm and Balot exchanged a glance. Despite their mutual loathing, they shared a common goal: eliminating the greatest threat before them.
In the next instant, a barbed chain wreathed in hellfire and a massive axe imbued with abyssal power converged on Monen from two impossible angles, launching a lethal pincer attack against his hunched, weakened form.
Monen struggled to raise his sword in defense, his movements now several times slower than before.
The deafening clash of blade against axe sent him staggering backward, barely evading the venomous strike of the barbed chain that snaked toward him like a serpent.
The silver battle qi around him flickered violently under the assault, its brilliance fading. The once-peerless king of the battlefield now found himself in dire straits.
Bang!
After another exchange, Monen collapsed to one knee, his longsword plunged deep into the scorched earth to support his trembling body.
Each breath tore through him like a thousand needles piercing his lungs.
He stared in disbelief at his wrinkled hands, the silver battle qi flickering weakly like fireflies.
What sorcery is this?
He had waged war for half his life, facing countless formidable foes, yet never encountered such a bizarre attack.
The force corroding him didn't originate from an external source; it seemed to erupt from the depths of his bloodline, like a trusted ally suddenly plunging a dagger into his back.
A chilling realization struck him: in his current state, there was no way he could defeat both Malcolm and Balot simultaneously.
This realization brought not fear, but a profound weariness.
As the monarch of the Golden Valley Kingdom, he bore the weight of the entire kingdom's fate on his shoulders.
If he fell here today, what would become of the soldiers who trusted and followed him?
What would become of the kingdom's future?
The blood of his own flesh and blood?
Lucius.
The face of his eldest son, so similar to his own in his youth, flashed through his mind.
The still-beating heart in Malcolm's hand—whose else could it belong to but Lucius?
A wave of grief and fury surged up his throat, leaving a metallic, rusty taste.
He remembered Lucius as a child, trailing behind him to learn swordsmanship, and the proud look on his face when he first donned armor.
What had driven that once-righteous and courageous boy down this path?
"Perhaps... I was wrong all along, Selena..."
As he recalled his beloved's gentle face, a bitter smile curved Monen's lips.
"That bastard Rudolph was right. I wasn't a good father, a good husband, and I'll never be a good king... Perhaps being a wandering mercenary is all I'm truly suited for..."
As his thoughts swirled, Malcolm's spiked chain and Balot's massive axe hurtled through the air once more, the icy chill of death piercing every inch of his skin.
There was no time for hesitation.
Monen took a deep breath, and a resolute glint suddenly flashed in his eyes, which had grown slightly clouded with age.
In ordinary times, he might have been a king who dozed off during court sessions, a monarch his ministers privately derided as "unreliable."
But when the kingdom's very survival hung in the balance, he never forgot the weight of his responsibility.
Since victory was impossible, he would use his final strength to eliminate the two greatest threats to his realm.
A forbidden technique, long sealed within the Royal Family's arcane codex, surfaced in his mind.
At the cost of his entire life and soul, he would detonate the core of his lifelong Battle Qi cultivation.
This would shatter his soul into oblivion, condemning him to eternal damnation, but the resulting cataclysmic energy would be enough to drag both otherworldly invaders into hell with him.
A bitter smile flickered across the old man's weathered lips.
"It seems this time, I truly must retire."
He slowly straightened his back, the remnants of his silver battle qi began to flow in reverse, forming a destructive vortex within his body.
The surrounding air trembled with terrifying energy fluctuations, and the shattered stones beneath his feet silently crumbled into dust.
Just as the situation reached its critical moment...
A sword blade wreathed in pale golden holy light and crimson battle qi pierced through the air, landing with the precision of a divine spear between him and his two formidable enemies.
Boom!
A deafening roar shook the earth as if an invisible weight had crushed the ground, instantly sinking it several feet and sending dust and debris flying in all directions.
The violent shockwave hurled Malcolm's spiked chains into the air, and even Balot had to take a step back to steady himself.
As the dust slowly settled, a towering figure stood proudly in the center of the newly formed crater.
The newcomer was covered in fine silver dragon scales that shimmered with a metallic luster under the dim sunlight.
Burning with fierce battle intent, his dragon-like vertical pupils glowed with intertwined strands of pale golden holy light and crimson battle qi, forming a radiant halo around him.
His originally handsome features, now enhanced by draconic traits, possessed a wild, primal beauty, every muscle radiating explosive strength.
"Monen... Your Majesty?"
A slightly hoarse voice cut through the lingering dust.
"I hope I haven't arrived too late."
Monen stared blankly at the figure, his clouded eyes widening slightly.
"Commander Rudolph?"
The aged king murmured unconsciously, as if seeing a phantom long buried in the depths of his memory.
(End of the Chapter)
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