"Delaying the inevitable will only make your death more painful. Let's see where you run now!"
The scar-faced knight gritted his teeth as he spoke, the skin on his forehead twitching uncontrollably. He was clearly enduring immense pain, and other negative emotions were easily surfacing in his mind. Even though refining the black-red Blood Source Pearl had granted him greater power, the strange energy was tearing through every muscle in his body, surging violently within him, making it impossible to keep his composure.
Seeing Rhett turn, the scar-faced knight instinctively followed, but what he didn't anticipate was that, right above him, three spikes suddenly emerged from the Earth Dragon's belly—one in the front left, one in the back right, and one in the center. These spikes, like swords of judgment, descended simultaneously, their earthy yellow glow even more pronounced under the shadow cast by the Earth Dragon's massive form. Though the spikes didn't carry the power of Vibration, they effectively blocked the knight's path, preventing him from pursuing Rhett and forcing him to abandon his plan to escape from under the Earth Dragon's belly by veering left.
Crunch, crunch, crunch!
Three dull sword lights flashed as the spikes were sliced into pieces by the scar-faced knight's blade, scattering across the ground.
At this moment, the knight's body trembled slightly, his eyes once again flashing with pain before he suppressed it. Dark lines moved across his face, like worms slowly crawling under his skin, giving him an especially eerie appearance in the shadow cast by the Earth Dragon's body.
"The power the Lord has granted me is indeed potent against mystical powers, but the side effects are too great! No matter, the opponent must be nearing his limit after holding out for so long. Soon... he won't be able to hold on any longer!"
The scar-faced knight clenched his teeth, convincing himself as he rushed out from under the Earth Dragon's shadow. Just ahead, Rhett stood calmly, no longer riding the Sand Wolf but positioned behind the three Sand Wolves, looking entirely composed.
"It's time to end this..." Rhett murmured softly.
"Hmm?"
The scar-faced knight's suspicion barely had time to form before he sensed a lethal danger. His years of battle experience made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Silently, as he stepped out from under the Earth Dragon's shadow, he realized he had walked into another trap.
He looked up and saw that, at some point, the sky had darkened as if a patch of earthy yellow thunderclouds had gathered overhead.
"This isn't good!"
In that instant, the scar-faced knight's rationality returned. He understood Rhett's ploy and realized the danger he was in, but the Piercing Rain spell had already been fully formed. Countless spikes rained down like a torrential storm, each emitting a sharp humming sound.
As they hit the ground, they exploded like bombs, with the sound of blasts echoing incessantly, leaving small craters, scattering debris, and filling the air with dust.
Meanwhile, Locke, who was locked in combat with the other pale knight, was only saved by his Speed Mystical Power, which allowed him to stay one step ahead of the strange blood mist that threatened to overwhelm him. Glancing at the sky and recalling Rhett's warning, Locke swiftly retreated from the area covered by the Piercing Rain spell.
When the pale knight pursued him, Locke boldly turned back, swinging his sword with one hand, leaving a dense weave of sword scars. These wind-imbued sword scars crisscrossed and tangled in the air, forming an irregular barrier that struck the pale knight, pushing him towards the edge of the Piercing Rain's range.
Just as the pale knight was about to escape, three spikes rained down—one destroyed the left half of his body, another obliterated his right arm, and the last pierced through his thigh, forcing a gut-wrenching scream from him. Desperately, he tried to crawl out of the danger zone.
At that moment, a sharp blue sword appeared, pressed against his throat.
Locke coldly demanded, "Tell me who you are, and I might spare your life. Otherwise, you're dead!"
The chilling sword tip made the pale knight's body shudder, but his eyes showed no fear, only a fanatic devotion. He burst into crazed laughter:
"Hahaha, it's useless! You are too weak. This world will eventually grovel at the feet of the Lord!"
"The Lord?" Locke's brows furrowed as he prepared to interrogate further. But in the next instant, his pupils contracted in shock, and he recoiled in horror. The pale knight exploded right before his eyes, dying instantly!
"This cult is truly bizarre, with people willing to die so willingly..." Locke sighed, quickly pushing aside these thoughts as he turned to the ongoing battle. Under the relentless onslaught of the Piercing Rain, the scar-faced knight still managed to dodge some attacks. His blood-soaked sword spun with incredible speed, creating a barrier that shielded him from above. The spikes, laden with Vibration, met the blood mist like mortal enemies, clashing fiercely but failing to break through completely and deal lethal damage.
Seeing this, Rhett clenched his fists, his expression darkening. Though the scar-faced knight was troublesome, Rhett wasn't overly concerned about him. What worried him was the broader implication—if these knights were indeed the Blood God Cult's warriors, had the Blood God himself mastered an even more formidable power? If Mystical Powers were now less effective, wouldn't that spell disaster for the world, perhaps even worse than the threat posed by the orcs?
"No, if the Blood God truly wielded such power, the five Saint-level beings shouldn't have been able to injure him so severely back then. He wouldn't have remained hidden for so long…" Rhett's eyes flickered as he quickly dismissed his own theory. He reasoned that the Blood God's recent intensified efforts—gathering bodies and risking exposure to steal extraordinary corpses—indicated that this power might still be in the experimental stage.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Just then, several arrows streaked in rapid succession from outside the battlefield, their blue light enhanced by the Speed Mystical Power. Moving faster than the eye could track, they pierced through the scar-faced knight's light armor and embedded themselves in his flesh.
"Ahhh!"
The scar-faced knight's brow furrowed in agony, his body writhing as dark lines crawled across his skin. The seven arrows' devastating impact overwhelmed him, leaving him unable to suppress the pain. His body convulsed where he stood, black-red blood flowing from his wounds as the blood mist barrier above him rapidly dissipated. He was clearly at the end of his strength!
The Piercing Rain spell was nearing its end, yet hundreds of spikes still fell, their Vibration power smashing everything in their path.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The explosions continued for more than half a minute.
When the dust finally settled, the scar-faced knight's body was far from intact. Locke, who had been closely monitoring the battle, scanned the area, sniffing the air for any lingering enemies. Satisfied that there were none, he relaxed slightly.
Approaching Rhett, Locke let out a deep breath and remarked, "It's finally over. These three enemies were really strange. I've never encountered such power before. Rhett, do you know anything about these people? Have you heard of anything similar before?"
"I don't know," Rhett replied, shaking his head, unwilling to dwell on the subject. Instead, he said seriously, "Locke, Laedros is still on his way here. You're the fastest, so head over and support him. I'm worried they might be ambushed too."
Hearing this, Locke's expression turned grave. "You're right. I'll go find Laedros and meet up with him. You follow as soon as you can."
"Take care on the way," Rhett advised.
Locke nodded, transforming into a blue streak as he sped off.
Rhett exhaled slowly, waiting for a few minutes before quickly gathering the three pale knights' bodies together. Despite their incomplete state, he meticulously collected every piece of flesh.
Once the bodies were assembled, Rhett calmly retrieved the shell from his spatial ring and placed it beside the corpses, anxiously watching what would happen.
It had been months since the shell last absorbed any energy, and the amount absorbed back then was meager, unable to offset the natural loss. Without the shell's aid, the amount of destiny points needed for breakthroughs would significantly increase. If the shell wasn't fully recharged, it could jeopardize his plans to reach the Saint-level.
Holding the shell, Rhett pressed it against the chests of the two weaker pale knights. Soon, there was a reaction—purple-red flesh began to pulsate, as if being sucked in by a pump, and rapidly flowed into the shell.
Rhett's eyes lit up. It was working! He stood there quietly, waiting for about half a minute before the shell stopped absorbing. The time it took was noticeably longer than when it had absorbed energy from those knights on the march. Rhett felt the shell in his hand, probing it with his mental energy, and indeed sensed that the energy within was much fuller, though still not complete.
He then turned his attention to the scar-faced knight, whose limbs were severed but whose chest remained mostly intact. Rhett nodded, now familiar with the process, knowing that the Blood God's minions often stored their power in this area.
When Rhett pressed the shell against the scar-faced knight's body, something unexpected happened. The moment the shell made contact with the knight's blood, it reacted like a ravenous wolf, instantly burrowing into the flesh. The shell's devouring power surged, reaching a peak as the surrounding blood and fragments of flesh were frantically drawn toward it.
Rhett watched the astonishing scene unfold, his legs tensed and straight. Soon, he noticed a significant difference. Unlike before, the blood being absorbed into the shell was not the familiar purple-red, but black-red, more sinister and bizarre than anything he had seen before.
"A more advanced form of power..." Rhett muttered, narrowing his eyes. He recalled the progression of the Blood Source Pearls he had encountered over the years, from blood-red to purple-red, and now to this black-red. Each one more eerie and powerful than the last. The scar-faced knight, whose strength clearly surpassed the other two, likely owed his power to this black-red blood.
Rhett took a deep breath, pushing these thoughts aside while keeping his focus on the shell. As time passed, the shell began to turn increasingly dark, eventually returning to the same state it was in when Rhett first acquired it.
To Rhett's surprise, the shell didn't stop its absorption. Its surface, already restored to a shiny black, continued to devour for several more seconds. Suddenly, a faint pattern began to emerge on the shell's surface.
"Huh?"
Rhett's eyes narrowed in shock as he leaned in closer to examine it. The newly formed pattern started to extend—a smooth curve that was almost ethereal—before abruptly halting its progression.
At that moment, the shell ceased its absorption, now lying quietly on the scar-faced knight's chest. The shell's surface gleamed with a moist, dark luster, as if a faint mist had gathered around it.
This unexpected change caught Rhett off guard. He picked up the shell, his expression shifting as he noticed the devouring energy within had grown stronger. It wasn't a dramatic difference, but it was unmistakable—more powerful than when he had first obtained it from the Mozassi family. Rhett found himself needing to exert more mental energy just to keep it in check.
The sudden appearance of the pattern on the shell only deepened his curiosity. Unfortunately, it seemed the quantity of black-red blood within the scar-faced knight wasn't enough to sustain the shell's absorption, causing the pattern to stop expanding.
"Could this merman artifact fragment be related to the Blood God?" Rhett wondered, his thoughts filled with uncertainty. After a moment, he shook his head, dismissing the idea as mere coincidence. "Perhaps it's just a coincidence... However, thinking back, pale knights didn't appear often in the simulations, did they? This suggests that even the Blood God can't produce them in large numbers. There must be some limitation or flaw... It's going to be harder to encounter another knight like this scar-faced one in the future."
Pushing these scattered thoughts aside, Rhett focused on the task at hand—cleaning up the battlefield before Locke and Laedros arrived, to avoid raising any suspicion.
First, he searched the bodies thoroughly but found nothing of value. Then, as usual, he incinerated the remains and scattered the ashes, leaving no trace behind.
Half an hour later.
Locke and Laedros arrived with their troops, the sound of their footsteps rumbling as a cloud of dust rose behind them.
"How was the journey? No trouble along the way?" Rhett asked casually as he approached them.
Laedros shook his head. "We're fine, but you were attacked by three Sky Knights?"
"Indeed, and they didn't seem to belong to any other legion. I checked; their faces weren't disguised," Rhett said, turning to Locke. "Did you recognize any of them from the Coldstream Defense Line?"
"No, I've never seen them before," Locke replied, his expression grave. He hesitated for a moment before suggesting, "Could they be traitors bought by the orcs?"
"Possibly!" Laedros, still unaware of the full truth, was easily misled. He turned to Rhett and asked, "You mentioned earlier that you knew where the high-ranking orcs were. Which direction did they go?"
Rhett shook his head regretfully. "They were around here earlier, but I lost track of them. I don't know where they are now."
"You lost track of them?" Laedros frowned but then sighed, offering some consolation, "It's okay. High-ranking orcs aren't mindless grunts. They could be anywhere by now. Besides, we've already encountered unexpected challenges on this mission. Running into high-ranking orcs would have been disastrous. In a way, we were lucky."