Chapter 379: Crushed to Death

"Ah... Goddess... please forgive... forgive the sinner..."

After the thunderous explosion, the whole space suddenly became quiet. Thus, that mournful wailing became all the more distinct. It was like the crying of a soul at the end of its path, like the moan of one enduring countless sufferings, like... that hopeless, deathly still, hoarse song through the endless passage of time.

In that hoarse song, the tadpole-like golden lines on the prisoner’s emaciated body shone brighter than ever before. As if unwilling to yield under oppression—thus... rebellion!

Crunch, crunch.

Under the dual suppression of gravity magic and shadow magic, the prisoner’s bones and joints gave off an ear-piercing grinding sound, and under everyone’s heavy gaze, he once again slowly straightened his body bit by bit.

The lantern swayed, the flame flickered. From the eyes that had been burned blind by boiling mercury, black tears of blood still flowed. The foul, poisonous wind blew his tattered robe, and from there erupted a terrifying power like a volcanic explosion!

Clang——

The prisoner’s thin body trembled violently. Paul’s hands shook; from his palms came a powerful recoil force, almost making it impossible to hold his sword hilt firmly.

"So, it really isn’t that easy to suppress this damn thing?"

Paul rarely put away his playful expression, and his face sank.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed—not only him, but also the adventurer Thunder Spear and the strange one, Reta, who had attacked together with him, were all slightly forced to retreat under the prisoner’s fierce counterattack.

A slight retreat didn’t seem like a big deal, but those who had attacked together just now were not simple people.

A mysterious woman famous throughout the Adventurers’ Guild, whose real name no one knew, only her title—Thunder Spear. The war monster Reta, painstakingly crafted by the Stone Cauldron Society. The magician Phil, highly valued by the Origin Tower; even if she had failed to seize the Saintess position, she could still go back and continue studying profound magic. The famous Saintess candidate Freya, and beside her, the God’s Attendant Knight—equally impossible to ignore, and according to information, a powerful warrior who could even use the extremely rare Shadow Magic. And himself, the successor of the Sword King’s legacy.

Under the strong offensive of five people, the skinny prisoner before them, who looked like he could be blown over by the wind, had only been suppressed for a short while.

But such suppression was still far from enough.

To achieve a level where they could safely purify the thing before them, they had to make it completely unable to resist, unable to move.

Yet to make a person completely unable to resist or move, in some sense, was even harder than killing him outright.

Perhaps that was the reason they intended to refine him into an alchemical object.

"This won’t do."

Seeing her own knight faltering slightly, and that the prisoner still had room to resist, Margarita’s gaze flickered faintly.

"You mean they can’t keep him down?"

Anne’s face was equally grim. She hadn’t struck directly, because Reta required her control to exert its greatest strength for a short time.

"No, they can keep him down. But that’s not the problem," Margarita said.

Although the few of them had been forced back temporarily, it was only a momentary retreat.

The prisoner, refined into an alchemical object, possessed terrifying toughness—immune to blades and resistant to magic—but precisely because of that, he had no means of attack.

Since just now, he had only been resisting one-sidedly.

Such resistance was inevitably futile. Margarita had great confidence in her own knight, and also in the other formidable opponents around her.

But the only problem was—

"Time... seems a little short."

Margarita sighed lightly.

Their movements had been fast; from the moment they struck to the moment of initial suppression, it took only ten seconds.

However, the prisoner’s resistance had exceeded her expectations.

At this rate, to completely restrain him again would take at least another minute.

One minute...

Margarita glanced sideways, and her lips twitched slightly.

Originally, it should have been enough time, but some genius had actually thrown out a Heart of Destruction—something that harmed friend and foe alike.

While blowing a great number of demon hounds sky-high, it also blasted a gap in their own defensive line.

Though the hounds could replenish their numbers quickly, who on their side could spare anyone to fill the breach?

So it was likely that in less than thirty seconds, those demon hounds would be charging straight at them.

Truly troublesome.

......

"Looks like it’s my turn."

Watching the scene before him, Muen closed his pocket watch, a smile of delight curling at his lips.

The situation looked less than ideal.

But it only looked that way. Given those people’s abilities, it was far from what could be called hopeless.

After all, those Saintess candidates hadn’t even shown their true hands yet.

However—

"Since I’m the one who said everyone should show their real skill, I can’t just stand here doing nothing, can I?"

Then he would just rush in, swing his blades twice, look busy, and call it a day.

No need to waste too much effort in a place like this...

"Hm?"

At that moment, Muen turned around to look at Liya, puzzled.

"What’s wrong?"

"Um..."

Liya reached out again to tug at Muen’s sleeve. Biting her soft pink lips, her small face showed a hesitant, adorable expression as she stammered, "Muen just now... you deliberately gave me a chance to stand out, didn’t you?"

"Weren’t you the one who stepped up first?" Muen smiled.

"No, if it weren’t for you..."

Liya shook her head hard, then said, "So... I want to see it too—Muen’s shining side."

"Hm?" Muen blinked. "Why?"

"Because... those things they said about you earlier—I didn’t say anything at the time, but honestly... I wasn’t happy," Liya said seriously.

Muen quickly realized she meant when the others had called him a soft persimmon or a pretty boy.

So Liya had actually gotten angry over something like that.

For some reason, that made Muen feel a little happy.

"Are you sure?" he asked, meeting her ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) eyes seriously.

"Mm!"

Liya met his gaze without a hint of fear, straightening her back.

"If it were before, maybe I wouldn’t have liked it—maybe I’d even have been afraid—but now... I’m strong. So..."

I want everyone to know that my knight is the strongest.

"I see."

Muen didn’t ask what she hadn’t liked before or what she had been afraid of. He simply looked quietly at her.

Right now, he suddenly wanted to pull this girl—fragile in appearance, yet strong inside, and most importantly, the cutest girl in the world—into a tight embrace.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he took her small, lovely hand and gently kissed the back of it.

"As you wish, my lady," he said. "In five seconds, I will bring you victory."

......

"Then why the hell hasn’t that damned yellow-haired guy made a move yet?"

Anne arched an eyebrow and said coldly, still holding a grudge over Muen calling her a damned steel board earlier. "He’s the one who told everyone to show their true skills, and now he’s just standing there watching the show?"

"Or maybe he knows it’s pointless if he does," Margarita said expressionlessly.

Right now, what they needed was that one straw to break the camel’s back.

But to bring that camel down quickly...

Margarita thought back to the way Muen had fought earlier—he seemed, like Paul, to be the speed-and-technique type.

Though his blades looked strange, when it came to suppressing an enemy, they likely wouldn’t have much effect in a short time.

Against an alchemical object that was both foul and as hard as rock, technique alone wouldn’t help much... which was exactly why Paul had been struggling.

"So what should we do then? We don’t have time to just stand here and watch," Anne said.

"You’d better not say that too loudly."

Margarita turned her head with a faint smirk.

"Looks to me like you haven’t gone all out either."

"Right back at you."

Anne folded her arms, giving a cold, meaningful smile.

The two locked eyes, and for a moment, it was as if an unspoken understanding passed between them. Together, they stepped forward.

At that instant, the same image appeared in both their minds—the sight of Liya earlier, under everyone’s gaze, reversing the tide and opening the great door.

"As fellow Saintess candidates, we can’t just let her hog all the spotlight, can we?"

They stepped forward again, confidence flashing in their eyes...

"Whoa~"

But suddenly, they heard a playful whistle.

A golden-haired figure darted past them, glancing sideways at a certain part of their bodies.

"Four Aces? You’re betting that big?"

The golden-haired figure, holding twin blades, disappeared swiftly, leaving behind only one sentence that made them stare blankly into the wind:

"But sorry, I call—and crush."