Chapter 202: Not Late

Chapter 202: Not Late

In high-level battles, opportunities to use charms were actually very rare. No one would voluntarily leave their opponent enough time to take out a charm and recite the incantation. The reason Trissy was able to complete the corresponding action was because evil black flames began burning from both inside and outside her body. Those flames seemed to absorb all heat from the surrounding area, causing thick ice crystals to form there. Outside the ice crystals, strand after strand of nearly invisible spider silk wrapped backward, layer upon layer, forming an enormous cocoon.

Relying on these three layers of defense, Trissy bought one or two seconds. Thus, she took out a rectangular diamond-like charm and recited:

“Yesterday!”

Transparent flames lit up within the evil black fire. The diamond-like charm silently disintegrated and melted into the void.

This was something Klein had deliberately provided for the witch, so that any of the three directions of sabotage could transform into the main point of attack.

Trissy then saw grayish-white fog. Past scenes appeared there like stars, densely covering it:

There was him as a child wandering the streets. Him under the control of gangs, swindling, deceiving, tricking, and stealing. Him joining the Gnosis Society and becoming an Assassin. Him enjoying endings, enjoying bloody slaughter, enjoying the way people were instigated into tearing away their masks and revealing their bestial nature. There was her, forced for all kinds of reasons to actively become a Witch. Her beginning to spread disaster. Her being arranged by the Demoness Sect to become Prince Edessak’s mistress. Her becoming less and less like herself, gradually sinking into pleasure. Her gripped by extreme panic and yearning to escape, only to fall into an even deeper hell. Her bearing endless pain and choosing an extreme path.

With a thought from Trissy, one image enlarged, occupying her entire field of vision.

In that speck of light, the lawn outside the window was green. Horses strolled slowly. Golf holes could be vaguely seen. Inside the room, a museum cabinet filled with antiques blocked the line of sight from the doorway.

The past Trissy stood in a relatively marginal position, looking outside. On her left hand was a sapphire ring.

At that time, she had not yet reached Sequence 5, and she did not possess the power her present self needed to borrow. But she had a ring from the Demoness Sect, one deeply connected to the Primordial Demoness.

What Trissy wanted to borrow was precisely that ring.

All of a sudden, this uniquely shaped ring inlaid with sapphire appeared on Trissy’s little finger. Unlike the past, the present Trissy had already fused with the mark, submitted to the Primordial Demoness, accepted tremendous transformation, and become a Sequence 4 demigod.

In other words, although she was not yet a firm vessel for divine descent, she already possessed the qualifications in that direction.

And the sapphire ring allowed her to briefly seize a certain degree of initiative.

After glancing again at that image from the past, Trissy raised her left hand while the spider-silk cocoon shattered inch by inch, the thick ice crystals silently melted, and the evil black flames were corroded. She closed her eyes and smiled as she pressed the sapphire ring against the center of her brow.

The ring melted like metal, half-real and half-illusory, flowing into Trissy’s head.

By then, the evil black flame layer had been completely deprived by Prince Grove. A blazing white spear of light was thrown toward her.

At the front of the spear, two pure white wings unfurled in layer after layer, embracing the tip like angels and sealing all surrounding space, leaving the target no possibility of escape.

At that moment, Trissy opened her eyes. They were completely dark.

Strand after strand of her hair rose up, all becoming as thick as little snakes. Their outer layers were slippery and evil; at the tips, some were inlaid with eyes where black and white were distinct, while others had grown heads like venomous snakes, mouths slightly open as they flicked their tongues.

The spear condensed from pure light stopped before Trissy, as though pressed down by an invisible hand, unable to advance another inch.

It was swiftly dyed grayish-white, changing from illusory to real, as though carved from stone.

With a whoosh, the spear fell rapidly, struck the edge of the cliff wall, and shattered into countless small pieces.

Around Trissy, the grayish-white color spread outward in every direction with a life of its own. Wherever it passed, stone became harder, while other things turned into stone.

The various rituals originally arranged inside Ruin No. 1 were also dyed grayish-white, preventing the angels guarding the other secret mausoleums from immediately detecting changes here and descending.

Prince Grove was instantly surrounded by grayish-white spreading from the void. He could only rely on the burning light emitted by the crown of thorns above his head to maintain a small safe zone. The words he wanted to speak and the prohibitions he wanted to make could not be transmitted at all.

Trissy, whose eyes no longer showed any distinction between sclera and iris, did not even glance at her former opponent. Surrounded by snake-hair that blotted out the sky, she took one step toward the secret mausoleum at the bottom of the dark valley.

Boom!

The earth began shaking violently. Muffled rumbles came from deep below. Red meteors trailing tails of flame appeared out of nowhere, passed over the witch Trissy, and smashed toward the mausoleum.

In an instant, this ruin was struck by multiple disasters.

George III, who was at the critical moment of his advancement, sensed this scene. Strong confusion and rage welled up in his heart.

With difficulty, he split off part of his power and used his advance arrangements to forcibly Distort the surrounding region, isolating the solemn, dark secret mausoleum from the real world in space, making it impossible for the earthquakes and meteors to approach the target.

Boom! Boom!

Amid all kinds of calamities, sections of cliff wall collapsed, and the ruin began to cave in. George III’s furious voice came from within the secret mausoleum, now forming its own world:

“Are you insane?”

For a Sequence 4 to forcibly accept the power of a true god’s descent, there was only one possible ending afterward: death!

Trissy laughed. The skin of her face had been stretched to its limit and split apart inch by inch, revealing the blood and flesh beneath that seemed to be writhing madly.

This now extraordinarily terrifying witch gave a soft “heh” and said, “Shouldn’t the ending of a beautiful story be for all the villains to die?

“For example, you… and for example, me…”

Before Trissy’s words had fully faded, she carried that horrifying smile and fell like a meteor toward the secret mausoleum, whose surrounding space had been Distorted, intending to forcibly destroy it.

…

Inside another mausoleum, Klein did not overdo it. He quickly ended his connection with Sefirah Castle, making it look as though he had been praying to The Fool for aid.

The disturbance just now had nearly caused all the angels present to stop. Unfortunately, the Angel of Concealment was only a historical image summoned by Klein. She would only continue fighting by instinct, making the chaos even worse.

At this moment, William Augustus I’s projection drew a silver rapier, pointed it forward, and made a slash.

Without any need for Him to say another word, the strange chaos throughout the ruin was brought to an abrupt halt. The fighting parties were divided onto different battlefields:

Hermes faced the beautiful, vacant-eyed lady. Abomination Suah suppressed Reinette Tinekerr. Emperor Roselle and the Light Angel, two projections from the gaps of history, surrounded Klein. William I himself stood in an independent position, controlling the influence so that the aftershocks would not strike the mausoleum below.

As expected of a Hand of Order… Klein’s pupils abruptly dilated. Without thinking, he reached his right hand into the inside of his clothes and extended his left hand forward, borrowing power from his past self.

Death Consul, the abbess of the Evernight Cloister, and the Angel of Concealment all exceeded Klein’s own level by quite a bit as historical images. Whether summoning them or maintaining them had placed an enormous burden on his spirituality. Before his spirituality was completely exhausted, he had to borrow strength from his past self.

With that, he was once again filled with false spirituality. For five minutes, it would be no different from the real thing.

Then Klein saw light.

The angel composed of pure light, whose back bore illusory wings, caused layers upon layers of radiance to surge toward him like a tide, drowning him.

In the blazing white ocean of light, an object abruptly appeared, rapidly falling, drawing nearer and nearer to the secret mausoleum.

It had a dark cover and pages made of parchment.

Groselle’s Travels!

Relying on his essence, which could divide into Worms of Spirit, and on his improved transformation ability, Klein had shrunk into sheets of flesh-and-blood “bookmarks” embedded inside the travelogue. He relied on it to block the endless purification and dissolution brought by the light.

Even so, Klein suffered fairly serious injuries, because the light could shine from the side onto portions of his body.

And that was not all. In the direction where Groselle’s Travels was falling, Emperor Roselle, dressed in magnificent clothing, was waiting, raising both hands.

“…” Klein had no time to think about anything else. He could only activate his first method of self-preservation:

Hide directly within the gaps of history!

Boom!

A great peal of thunder rang out outside the ruin.

At first it was still far away, but by the tail end, it was already close at hand.

Every living being inside the ruin, including Klein and the projections in the gaps of history, was struck by the shock and turned rigid. That ocean of light instantly dimmed.

No—one figure was unaffected. In Klein’s eyes, the Angel of Concealment from the Church of Evernight, the beautiful but not very lively lady, seized the chance to actively fade her body. She transformed into numerous symbols representing concealment and terror, expanding into a strange world that enveloped Hermes, Reinette Tinekerr, Suah’s arms, the Light Angel, and William Augustus I.

Although what Klein had summoned was a historical image whose strength had been greatly reduced, certain essential qualities were still there!

The chaos Klein had been waiting for had finally arrived!

George III’s other helpers, such as that King of Angels, were still at other mausoleums.

The moment that almost transparent, strange world formed, the angels inside began their separate resistance.

Amid the chaos, that strange world was easily torn apart.

However, under the deliberate guidance of that lady, the light mixed with residual angelic power rushed out and headed straight for the secret mausoleum at the bottom.

Boom!

An even louder peal of thunder sounded. Emperor Roselle, who was attempting to stop it, was shocked again and failed to make any attempt in time.

In the next instant, the deep-black, majestic secret mausoleum was struck. Cracks across its surface silently deepened, revealing the dark interior.

Within those cracks, streams of blood appeared out of nowhere—some bright red, some dark and heavy.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

This time, the blasts came from air bullets fired by Klein, who had recovered his human form and was holding Groselle’s Travels, together with portions of scattered Worms of Spirit around him.

The mausoleum, already on the verge of collapse, came crashing down. Even more blood flowed out in great swaths.

…

With one mausoleum destroyed, George III’s advancement ritual was no longer stable. It had lost a crucial support.

If only one mausoleum had been attacked, He could still have relied on His invisible connection with them to mount a certain defense. But now, He himself was under fierce attack.

His already illusory body abruptly boiled. No longer able to maintain the Distortion outside, the mausoleum isolated from reality finally appeared before Trissy.

On Trissy’s face, where blood and flesh were writhing, the corners of her lips lifted.

…

Within Backlund, in Memorial Day Square.

“My subjects…” George III, with his two little mustaches and stern, rigid manner, was reaching the end of his speech when he exploded with a boom.

His flesh and blood turned into fireworks, spraying into the air.