Chapter 213: fighting amongst themselves(3)

Rosalia’s every slash tore through the air with a piercing sonic boom. The domineering greatsword didn’t even need to land a direct hit—just the residual force of its arc was enough to blast away everything nearby.

Likewise, although Alice constantly darted and maneuvered, her attacks were just as overwhelming. Brilliant flames erupted and spread, igniting the surroundings into a blazing inferno.

Yet no matter how violently Alice detonated her flames, Rosalia remained unfazed, repeatedly suppressing the fire with her greatsword as if nothing had happened.

Back and forth they clashed, dozens of exchanges passing with neither side gaining the upper hand.

"Huff... what is wrong with this woman? She’s been hit by so many Flame God Butterflies, yet even her clothes aren’t damaged."

Divine power continuously condensed into butterflies, wave after wave flying out and exploding into dazzling bursts of fire. The anger on Alice’s face gradually gave way to vigilance and gravity.

"And her attacks are getting sharper... she must have some method of strengthening herself."

Sensing Rosalia’s steadily rising combat power, Alice clenched her teeth and frantically circulated the violent divine power within her body.

"In that case, I’ll end you in one move with a divine skill."

"Second-Tier Divine Skill — Cinder-Star Conflagration!"

The Flame God Butterflies split from one into two, from two into four, until they blanketed the sky in an instant.

Even from a distance, Phield could feel the scorching heat. The searing waves made it feel as though he were standing at the mouth of a volcano.

"So this is Lady Alice’s power."

"The invader is doomed."

The onlookers risking their lives to watch all revealed excited expressions.

The crowd erupted in awe. The citizens instinctively supported the Divine Chosen—after all, they were the embodiment of faith itself.

"Is that so? I don’t think so."

Phield shook his head.

Sensing Alice’s undisguised killing intent, Rosalia swept her gaze around. With no room to evade, she raised her greatsword horizontally before her. Chains burst forth from the blade, weaving into a defensive net.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The terrifying divine skill descended.

The vast square before the lord’s palace was instantly engulfed in relentless bombardment.

It was as if bombers had plowed across it—the entire ground trembled, and the scorching heat filled the air with the stench of burning.

"Good! As expected of Lady Alice!"

"She’s won!"

Cheers erupted from the distant crowd.

"Not necessarily." Phield had long grasped the flow of the battle. Arms crossed, he stood firmly in place.

"Hey, you brat, how dare you not support Lady Alice? I’ve heard you several times already."

Some citizens angrily slapped Phield on the shoulder, having noticed this black-robed figure constantly saying things that undermined morale.

Wearing a mask, Phield spoke in a mysterious tone, "Ahem, I’ve merely foreseen the outcome of this battle. Trust me—leave Wind Orchid City now."

As if confirming his words, before the cheers had even faded, the sea of flames was split apart by a massive sword strike.

"Second-Tier Divine Skill — Endless Severance!"

The sword energy, brimming with corrupted aura, instantly annihilated the surrounding flames into nothingness.

Facing the flood-like sword energy, a rare flicker of shock appeared in Alice’s eyes.

"This level of power... it’s comparable to my Cinder-Star Conflagration. I can’t take it head-on."

Alice retreated at high speed.

Boom!

The sword energy slammed into her previous position, instantly reducing the solid stone structure there to rubble.

Some overly bold onlookers, having stood too close, were caught in the blast and shredded into pieces—their blood drawn into Rosalia and absorbed.

"The taste of the living... is truly delicious..."

Rosalia licked her lips, revealing a serene smile.

"Damn, she’s a monster!"

The crowd watching from afar instantly panicked.

They had assumed Divine Chosen wouldn’t waste divine power attacking ordinary people, but seeing Rosalia absorb them sent chills down their spines.

"Run! Don’t look back!"

Someone screamed, and countless citizens scattered in all directions, abandoning the spectacle entirely.

"Now that Alice has used her divine skill, her threat level is much lower."

Unless they possessed special abilities, most Divine Chosen couldn’t repeatedly cast the same skill in a short time.

"Damn it..." After continuous fighting, Alice’s body had grown stiff, and circulating divine power became increasingly difficult. "If I hadn’t already fought three Divine Chosen earlier, I could have killed her outright."

Phield drew the Silver Iris Longsword, his spirits lifting as he led the greatsword warriors toward the lord’s palace.

"I will not allow you to harm my lord!"

Alice bit her tongue, forcing herself to stay conscious.

Even if Adrian hadn’t treated her particularly well, Alice still felt gratitude toward the Ross family. And as a Divine Chosen, she held a natural affinity toward her lord—she would never stand by and watch disaster unfold.

"Heh heh heh, your opponent is me."

Rosalia flicked her chains, wrapping them around Alice’s pale ankle before hurling her away.

Alice shot through the air like a blazing cannonball, crashing into the distant commercial district and triggering another wave of screams. Rosalia didn’t hesitate, immediately pursuing her.

Their fierce battle continued, explosions erupting everywhere.

"Find Adrian." Phield pointed toward the doors.

"Yes, my master."

The emotionless Corrupted Greatsword Warriors surged forward, channeling their magic to smash the doors into pieces before flooding inside.

The guards within the hall braced themselves, forming a tight defensive formation. Interlocked shields created a solid wall of steel.

Phield’s gaze fell upon the massive, luxurious drapery inside the hall—a stylized rose embroidered upon it. The sight stirred complex emotions within him. He wondered what his father would think upon witnessing brothers turning against each other.

Ahead lay the tense standoff within the hall. Behind him burned the city—countless lives lost to his own schemes.

"All of this was inevitable. Either you die, or I do. Sorry—but I have no intention of being the one who loses."

Phield felt no guilt, no hesitation—let alone any misplaced compassion. The dead weren’t his people—why should he care?

He himself had once been targeted by mercenaries, and many had died at their hands. Not to mention the original host, who had suffered betrayal and died with resentment. Phield was certain Adrian would never spare him either.

To ignore it—or to deceive himself—would only harm those he cared about.

Scanning the hall, Phield didn’t see Adrian, but he wasn’t in a hurry. He simply raised his hand.

The Corrupted Greatsword Warriors lifted their blades in unison, eyes locked forward.

"Greatsword warriors, form ranks. Prepare to attack!"

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

The warriors roared in unison.

At the same time, Adrian’s guards erupted with hysterical shouts.

"For our lord!"

"For our lives!"