Chapter 173: Battle in Grimhollow II: Devil vs Deacon
The battlefield in Grimhollow was chaos incarnate. Explosions, spells, and roars of fury resounded through the air as steel and magic clashed endlessly.
"Kuroha! Left flank collapsing!"
"On it, nii-chan!"
The assassins moved like shadows. Kageha's strikes were sharp and reckless, while Kuroha's were precise and flowing, but when joined together their fused twin arts created an endless spiral of death. Their chains and blades weaved like serpents, cutting through dozens of Gold tier 3s and below.
An enemy tried to strike from Kuroha's blind spot—only for Kageha's blade to intercept mid-swing. She spun, following the motion, carving down two more men before returning to back up her brother.
"Perfect, Kuroha. Just like always," Kageha smirked.
"Don't get cocky, nii-chan," she shot back, though her lips curved faintly.
But their slaughter halted as two oppressive auras bore down. Two Gold tier 4 experts of the Church strode forward, armored priests bearing massive halberds glowing with devouring divine light.
"You twins have toyed with our flock long enough."
Kageha cracked his neck, blades twirling. "Finally, something fun."
Kuroha's eyes narrowed as her chains rattled. "Nii-chan… don't fall behind me."
Joe-Pine whistled cheerfully as his thin sword blurred, slipping between gaps in armor and striking throats, hearts, and tendons with surgical precision. Around him, roots surged from the ground, binding opponents just long enough for his fencing blade to dance across their weak points.
"Blood Pine Fencer!" roared a hulking priest clad in crimson armor. His mace burned with cursed fire, every swing leaving behind trails of molten earth. "Your head will be my offering to the Lord of Devouring Night!"
Joe-Pine tilted his head, parried another opponent aside, then twirled his blade in a lazy flourish. "Mmm. You know, if you're going to shout something that dramatic, at least land a hit first."
With a roar, the priest charged, mace swinging like a comet. The air cracked as the weapon smashed downward, earth exploding. Joe-Pine's body flickered, leaving behind a fading afterimage, reappearing behind him in a swirl of leaves. His sword thrust forward, nearly piercing through the man's exposed armpit—blocked only by a last-second surge of divine light.
"Not bad," Joe-Pine muttered, lips tugging into a wolfish grin.
"Not bad? I'll grind your bones into ash!"
Their clash erupted. Mace and sword collided again and again, cursed fire spraying sparks against the living vines Joe-Pine summoned for defense. The ground beneath them cracked under the repeated detonations. Both men laughed, wild and savage — battle-thrill singing in their voices as neither gave an inch.
The barbarian's roar thundered like an avalanche. His massive black club whistled through the air, each swing fueled by brute strength and raw Gold tier 5 Ki. Every strike left shockwaves that split the battlefield, flattening lesser warriors caught too close.
His Church opponent, a knight wrapped in gleaming white and black armor with symbols of the Nights Light Devouring Church, countered with a radiant greatsword. His form was disciplined, honed, every parry calculated to redirect the barbarian's ferocious strikes. Divine light clashed against dark Ki, sparks scattering like falling stars.
"Barbarian dog! You'll never break my blade!" the knight shouted, locking weapons in a clash that shook their arms.
The barbarian bared sharp teeth in a manic grin, eyes bloodshot with frenzy. "Haaah? I'll BREAK EVERYTHING!"
He swung in wide arcs, the club smashing into the knight's shield with bone-cracking force. The sheer momentum forced the knight back, heels carving trenches into the earth. Yet the knight held, roaring as divine aura flared to reinforce his stance.
Back and forth they traded, one fueled by primal savagery, the other by disciplined faith. Their duel was a brutal contest of endurance, shockwaves rippling outward with every collision. Neither seemed willing to give ground.
Around them, soldiers on both sides gave the duel wide berth. To get too close was to risk death from the stray backlash of their titanic struggle.
Boom!
Crack!
The mercenary's gauntlets and shoulder cannons lit the battlefield in constant thunder. Beams of compressed energy carved the earth apart, exploding in white-hot bursts. His foe, a Church exorcist wielding a radiant spear, was forced into evasive maneuvers, light weaving frantically to shield him from annihilation.
"Stand still, coward!!"
The mercenary smirked beneath his visor. "Sure—if you can make me." He unleashed a devastating salvo, each blast locking onto his foe like relentless hunting hounds.
The air rippled violently where Rudecka battled two Golden Lords. Each spell she wove with her four arms carried suffocating weight — dark lightning crashing down, earthen spears erupting beneath, barriers shimmering, raw magic tearing space itself.
Her two opponents, a paladin-like priest and a robed sorcerer, fought desperately. One deflected with radiant shields while the other fired searing lances of divine light.
"She's too strong—"
"Shut up and focus!"
But even their combined resistance faltered. Every time they blocked, another arm of hers struck from a different angle, layering endless destruction. Collateral bodies — ally and foe alike — were caught in the wake, vaporized or blown aside screaming.
Rudecka's veiled lips curved faintly. "Two against one, and still so pitiful. Is this all that you all amount to?"
Her aura surged, blasting them backward, tearing blood from their mouths.
At the battlefield's heart, Zoro and Deacon Dooley's duel overshadowed all else.
Every clash was a detonation. Zoro's twin katanas struck like lightning, but Dooley's saber crashed down like a mountain. Mortal Lord pressure warped the air, pressing Zoro into disadvantage. His boots tore trenches through the soil with each blocked strike.
"Hahahahaha! Pathetic insect! Did you think your tricks could reach me?!" Dooley howled, saber splitting the earth in great gashes.
Zoro slid back, chest heaving, arms trembling from the sheer force. A line of blood traced down his chin. Yet, even as Dooley pressed the attack, Zoro's lips curled into a sneer.
Dooley raised his saber for a killing strike—
And Zoro's aura exploded.
His skin darkened to iron-brown, his eyes turned abyssal, and black hellfire surged across both katanas. The ground quaked as his Might of the Devil Lord form erupted outward, suffocating the air with killing intent.
Dooley froze, shivering despite himself. "…W-What is this?!"
Zoro's voice was a growl, chilling, primal.
—Nitōryū: Majin Saru Ranbu—
(Two Sword Style: Bedeviled Gorilla's Rampage)
He lunged, his twin blades engulfed in surging black fire, arcs wild and primal, like a raging beast smashing down mountains.
Dooley gritted his teeth, divine aura erupting around him. He gripped his saber in both hands, roaring as it ignited with blinding white-red energy.
—Mortal Severance of the Saber Lord!—
The valley shook as both men hurled forward. Their skills collided in a cataclysmic flash, splitting the heavens, drowning the battlefield in light and shadow—