"Your goddamn plan is in place? You call that a plan, you moron?" Wrath roared furiously. "This morning you told me you had everything sorted out, that we could just go! But I never imagined your 'plan' was for us to disguise ourselves as ordinary citizens and rush Elysia during her public speech to take her down?"
"Even my senile grandma could come up with a more feasible plan than this! You shouldn't call yourself Pride anymore—you're nothing but an idiot!"
"If you'd explained this shit properly this morning, I never would have agreed to come!"
"You don't understand," Pride said, adjusting his monocle. "This is confidence in my own abilities—isn't that the very essence of pride? It's just some pink-haired girl. Watch me take her down in a heartbeat!"
"Then go! Don't come crying to me later when you're getting your ass kicked like some toe-stubbing sissy!"
"That won't work. I can't just charge in alone while you stand back and watch. If we're going, we're going together."
"Fuck! What twisted logic possessed me to trust your so-called 'plan' and come all the way here?" Wrath cursed. "Right now, all I want to do is kick your ass with my steel-toed boots!"
Within the Eldritch Concord, the seven members who had absorbed the most power from the Blood God and possessed the greatest strength each adopted one of the Seven Deadly Sins as their codename. However, these seven individuals were far weaker than the White Eagle Eight.
During wartime, the White Eagle Eight could have steamrolled Great Britain. If the Eldritch Concord had comparable firepower, how could they have struggled so much to gain a foothold there?
Wrath might have been able to handle a pushover like Kaya, but he knew all too well that the pink-haired woman before him was at least on par with a standard member of the White Eagle Eight. Confronting her head-on would be exceedingly difficult.
As Wrath and Pride argued, White Tower personnel, alerted by the commotion, began to approach.
"Hey! What's going on here?"
"Freeze! Hands up!"
"Damn it!" Wrath cursed, glaring at the two guards advancing toward him. Trapped, he reluctantly braced himself to execute Pride's "plan."
"Enough stalling! Let's move!" Pride barked.
In the next instant, both men surged into action. Wrath transformed into a streak of crimson blood energy, slicing through the crowd of civilians as he raced toward Elysia on the stage.
"Assassin!"
"Protect Lady Elysia!"
Chaos erupted as Wrath reached Elysia's side.
Thud! A muffled crash echoed as microphones, close-up cameras, and other equipment on the platform were swept away. Even the civilians in the front row were knocked backward by the force of the blast.
At the center of the platform, Elysia raised her hand. A pink, petal-shaped crystal materialized before her, blocking the crimson spearhead that pressed against it. The spear couldn't advance.
Elysia stood firm, but her expression betrayed her astonishment. She genuinely hadn't expected the Eldritch Concord to launch an attack under such circumstances.
Her daily routine was so predictable—the same route to the White Tower every day. Wouldn't it have been more effective to strike her residence directly or ambush her along the way?
With all the White Tower personnel present, this wasn't a mere assassination attempt; it was an open declaration of war against White Eagle.
It's worth noting that Elysia was pondering the same thing that Wrath was puzzling over. But it was too late; the battle had begun, and they had no choice but to continue fighting.
Wrath watched his first strike blocked, swiftly retreated half a step, readjusted his stance, and prepared to attack again.
By now, Wrath no longer resembled a human. His entire body was encased in a thick, hardened substance resembling chitinous armor.
The spear in his hand hadn't been forged; it had grown directly from his palm. The crimson shaft was covered in fuzzy, red, vein-like structures that writhed unsettlingly, both terrifying and nauseating.
The Flesh God's Blessing operated on a simple principle: physical mutation.
Hadn't cultists previously sprouted dog snouts or gained the strength of bears? Wrath was undergoing a similar transformation, harnessing power by warping his own flesh.
Initially, these changes were minor, limited to traits from ordinary Earth animals like dogs and bears. But as he absorbed more of the Evil God's power and became more deeply influenced, increasingly bizarre features from increasingly strange creatures began to manifest.
A second head sprouting from the neck, a mass of tentacles erupting from the buttocks, a mouth forming on the tongue—these were all possible outcomes.
It's worth noting that cultists could actively embrace the power of the Evil Gods to accelerate this transformation. However, even those who resisted, like a repentant cultist, would still undergo passive mutation over time.
In other words, all members of The Eldritch Concord ultimately faced a single, inevitable fate: becoming inhuman monstrosities.
Those who worshipped the Evil God behind the Human Skin Book would hear maddening whispers that would eventually shatter their sanity. But compared to the consequences of worshipping the Blood God, the outcomes seemed equally dire.
Returning to the present, as Wrath unleashed his power, his appearance grew increasingly grotesque. Six densely packed eyes erupted across his forehead, while four arms sprouted from his back and armpits. From the palms of these four arms, crimson flesh surged forth, rapidly coalescing into four gleaming spears.
Wrath recalled the video he'd seen of Elysia in combat. She'd drawn her bow, pierced Thumb Guy's summoned monster with a single arrow, and then encased it in pink crystals. Even after entering that strange purple space, she'd manipulated shards of pink crystal and unleashed light cannons for ranged attacks.
All this proved beyond doubt that Elysia excelled at ranged combat. Wrath's strategy was clear: maintain relentless close-quarters pressure, denying her any opportunity to use her ranged abilities.
Wrath tightened his grip on the four spears that had materialized in his four newly grown hands. Just as he finalized his plan, Elysia moved with blinding speed. She retracted the pink crystal from her hand, spun, and delivered a devastating roundhouse kick, her white stocking-clad ankle slamming into his temple before he could react.
Though Elysia specialized in ranged combat, she was far from weak in melee. An archer who can't fight at close range isn't a true archer at all!