Chapter 589: Help

“All right already—stop rushing me.”

The silver staff slammed down on the ground. Professor Plang finally brought to an end the kind of chant that, for a Truth-tier archmage, was absurdly long.

Like a set of gears pushed to their absolute limit, those intricate magic arrays unfurled in a terrifying form. If not for the Archbishop of Canterbury’s illusory sacred domain cutting off the inside from the outside, everyone in the city would have seen this magical construct that all but set half the sky ablaze.

“This is the Flame that Burns the World.”

“This is the Ice that Extinguishes All.”

“This is the Wind that Tears the Heavens.”

“This is the Earth that Brings the End.”

Professor Plang spread his five fingers, aiming at King Indra.

Vast magic power became the foundation of all things. Under those precise magic arrays, it rapidly evolved into catastrophe-level might.

The streams of magic advanced segment by segment along engraved pathways. Lights of different hues flickered on, piercing the darkness—like some advanced weapon charging step by step. With every syllable of Professor Plang’s solemn proclamation, the power brewing within climbed another level.

Layer upon layer of constructed magic resembled cannon muzzles of a staggering caliber, and at this distance, it was practically the same as shoving the barrel into King Indra’s face.

Nowhere to dodge.

“This is... your dead end.”

And then came the declaration meant to end everything.

A magnificent rainbow radiance finally descended from the sky, engulfing King Indra.

A blazing sea of fire spread across the heavens and earth, scorching flesh.

An annihilating cold arrived, freezing all life.

Then a gale that tore space itself swept through, pulverizing everything.

Massive mountain rocks fell like planets, and crimson magma congealed into a dead land where life was forbidden.

Countless phantom images emerged—a scene like the end of the world.

Yet even within this area covered by holy light, it was already no different from doomsday. If the sacred domain projection hadn’t forcibly held it together, fully half of Berland would have been flattened by this single strike.

“Hah...”

The Archbishop of Canterbury let out a long breath. With a casual wave, the wavering sacred domain projection finally dispersed—taking with it those horrific visions of everything collapsing into ruin.

And King Indra, who had taken that attack head-on, finally appeared in the three of their sightlines.

He was still standing there.

But his entire body had been burned completely black, like dead wood carbonized beneath a heavenly thunderbolt—devoid of all vitality.

“Dead?”

Adolf popped up from who knew where, inspecting him with curiosity.

“So what now—do we still need to finish him off?”

“Of course.”

Professor Plang clenched his fist and coughed lightly a few times. “A Crowned one’s vitality is formidable. Letting him recover would be a headache.”

“What a waste.”

The Archbishop of Canterbury shook his head with the same sigh. “King Indra never committed evil in his life, but in the end, he was blinded by obsession. Pitiful. Tragic.”

“Then who’s doing it?”

Adolf asked again.

But after waiting a moment, he didn’t get an answer. He turned his head stiffly—and found both pairs of eyes fixed on him.

“Me?”

Adolf pointed at himself, eyes widening. “You want me to do it?”

“Who else?”

Both of them looked as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “The Stargazer, who contributed the least?”

“...Fine.”

Adolf shrugged helplessly.

Truthfully, he didn’t want to be the bad guy either. But since the grudge was already there, there was no reason to be kind enough to let a tiger return to the mountain.

“A King Indra famed across the continent, dying by my hand... I guess that’s fate’s little joke.”

Adolf produced an Ace of Spades. Reaching into it, he pulled—and a pitch-black spear appeared in his grasp, sinister and abyssal, as if it could swallow light.

“Still, with the Archbishop of Canterbury and Saint Maria Academy’s Professor Plang assisting, the wise and mighty Stargazer Adolf Lovis slays King Indra, who intended to cause trouble in Berland... That sounds perfect for tomorrow’s front-page headline.”

Adolf smiled. Then he tightened his grip on the spear. Battle qi surged as he aimed for King Indra’s vital point.

“Wuu...”

All of a sudden, a muffled, sobbing cry echoed through Berland’s silent city district.

Everyone instinctively cocked an ear, frowning slightly.

In truth, with senses like theirs, they had noticed that cry half an hour ago, already drifting through the city on the night wind.

But at this moment, it suddenly grew loud and clear.

Like... a pitiful little girl crying because she’d lost her lollipop, only to get beaten hard again by some trashy thug who came out of nowhere—so miserable, so helpless, it made you furious at how vile that thug was.

“Tsk tsk. That brat—he’s really that ruthless even to a little girl, huh.”

Adolf wagged his head and muttered, then stopped caring and prepared to continue his unfinished work.

But...

In the one or two seconds his attention was tugged aside, the corner of his eye accidentally caught something—

King Indra’s nearly fully carbonized, char-black finger... seemed to twitch.

“That fast?”

Professor Plang also sensed the anomaly at once. His pupils shrank as he bellowed, “Adolf, now!”

Even before Professor Plang finished shouting, Adolf had already moved.

The pitch-black spear coiled with lightning, carving a scorched black trace through space. A deafening roar—like a thunder dragon’s bellow—swallowed King Indra in an instant...

It failed to swallow him.

Because the black thunder dragon, less than eight inches from King Indra, stopped dead—seized in a charred hand that clamped down so hard it couldn’t move.

Adolf’s expression changed. He yanked himself back at speed, but a fist had already smashed in, carrying the lightning that had originally come from Adolf, shaking like a heavenly war drum.

“Damn it—I'm just trying to stab you once. Is that really worth going berserk over?”

Adolf cursed under his breath. At the critical moment, he pulled out a playing card and vanished from where he stood.

Crack. Crack.

After the lightning dispersed, fissures began to crawl over King Indra’s blackened surface, revealing newborn skin like an infant’s.

But after only a few breaths of contact with the air, that skin’s color deepened, becoming the imposing hue of cast iron.

King Indra opened his eyes.

Black flowing light rose up, linking into nine concentric rings that circled around the brilliant crown.

All dead silence fell away, replaced by endless vitality. He was naked, his powerful muscles like bronze poured over bone—ferocious, hunched, and oppressive.

The three wore solemn expressions. He had just suffered a near-fatal injury, yet the pressure King Indra gave off now was even stronger than before.

“An almost undying flesh-body... Is this the ultimate end of an ascetic?”

The Archbishop of Canterbury sighed in awe. “So you’ve already # Nоvеlight # reached this realm. I underestimated you.”

“Hey, hey—how are we supposed to play this? We fought this long and this guy still has a second phase?”

Adolf crawled out from some corner, rubbing his chest, his face bitter. “Wonder if that brat reimburses medical bills. Feels like we’re taking a huge loss this time.”

“Second phase or not, it’s still three against one. We can wear him down until he dies.”

Professor Plang had already reentered an attacking stance, his expression grave. “If we lose even like this, we might as well find a plot of land and bury ourselves.”

“...”

King Indra silently watched the three before him.

If he fought any one of them one-on-one, he was confident he would win—confident even that he could kill them.

But it was three people.

If they kept going like this, it would only be a repeat of what had just happened.

So he raised his head.

“You two—how long are you going to keep watching the show?”

“What?”

The three of them looked up in shock.

And only then did they realize... high above in the deep night sky, at some unknown point, a patch of blood-red cloud had appeared, floating there in absolute silence.