125: Chapter 117: Ice Prison Calamity Ash (4/4, word update, please subscribe!) 125: Chapter 117: Ice Prison Calamity Ash (4/4, word update, please subscribe!) “…After so many years of honing, Weyges, it seems you have indeed achieved so results.”
Hiliard let out a heavy breath, his expression grave as he said, “Your swordsmanship, even back then, I would have rated as ‘excellent’.”
He said that, but only he knew how dire his current condition was.
The Originium Plague ‘Ice Prison Calamity Ash’ originated from the Great Labyrinth’s ‘North Sea Hellfrost’, is a kind of vicious toxin that can corrode any Origin Structure, proliferating itself.
So scholars have studied it and believe that ‘Calamity Ash’ is fundantally an out-of-control Alchemical Creation, tiny in size, that only consus and replicates itself—not only difficult to preserve but also impossible to duplicate, extrely rare, with the only sample brought out of the Hellfrost by a combined effort of The Empire and the Yanjiang Countries, not a traditional plague.
However, due to its overly ruinous and domineering effects, even Sublimators at the Fifth Power Level cannot be immune, thus it is still called one of the most terrifying plagues.
Hiliard was well aware that nearly all of his Essence Organs were consud and destroyed by the Ice Prison Calamity Ash.
It was only with the last bits of power from His Majesty of those years that the spread of this fierce toxin was suppressed.
Having lost his essence conversion organ, he was no longer able to normally extract Origin Quality from food.
Calamity Ash was only confined, not eradicated; he could only rely on the most primitive, ordinary human-level digestive system to extract such a negligible amount of Origin Quality.
He couldn’t even consu many sublimation foods, for his body was so decayed that it no longer had the ability to digest those nutrients normally.
So much so, that even aging could not be stopped.
If it wasn’t for the old Knight still retaining a considerable amount of Origin Quality left over from the past years, he might have already died of old age.
Even so, it was diminishing each ti it was used…
and it was becoming more difficult to recover.
The more he battled, the weaker and older he beca.
Moreover, the enemy was suprely skilled in his craft; if it hadn’t been for the covert suppression he faced in recent years, he might have been well on his way to envisioning the lodious Knight Weyges, a forr Apprentice at the Fourth Energy Level.
“You never taught swordsmanship… and now you’re evaluating the quality of my swordsmanship?!”
Weyges was angry despite being praised by the ntor he had always pursued, “Rather, did anyone from the Knight Order of Inspectorate ever really catch your eye!”
“All those you left behind, all the colleagues and Apprentices executed by the New Emperor, those who still believed you would co back before they died… Is this how you looked at them… with such a perspective and such thoughts?!”
Hiliard was silent.
He truly had no response.
“Gulp!”
At that mont, Weyges took out a series of potions from his Armored Clothing and poured them straight into his mouth, even shoving them down his throat and crushing the glass with his incredibly tough esophagus before swallowing them, absorbing the effects of the dicine.
Hiliard’s expression tensed, for he recognized among the potions consud by his opponent were Fluid Source, High-Rank Recovery Potion, Iron Calming Agent, and other Sublimation potions worth hundreds of Talle each.
The enemy was more than prepared; he was clearly fighting him with the resolve to die!
Boom!
Blood surged into his eyes, and Weyges glared furiously.
He could see that Hiliard, old and weak, with his internal Origin Quality continuously depleting, didn’t have much strength left…
At most, at most, there was only enough for one more strike!
If he could withstand this one strike, victory would be his!
Without wasting words, Weyges, after consuming the potions, let out a fierce shout and stepped forward.
His white bone Armored Clothing, almost dyed red with blood and on the brink of shattering, was once again replenished from the earth.
The Origin Quality within his body burst forth, invisible force filling the greatsword in his hands, then vanishing in a blink, whipping up a vortex storm.
The Enal Scorpion Spider possesses the ability to control calcium and, for brief monts, to change its center of mass with Origin Quality—this allows it to strike with its ‘tail hamr’ at lightning speed, using the full strength of its body and its own weight to pulverize its prey.
Weyges had applied this to his swordsmanship.
His sword was the scorpion’s tail hamr; every swing was a ‘stinger’ capable of shattering a war chariot, and with the precision of a Grand Knight Level swordsman, tearing through sound barriers and the atmosphere.
Like in this instant, the longsword in the hands of the lodious Knight caused the surrounding air to howl, winds and thunder combining, with the trailing shockwaves alone able to blow the nearby rolling dust as if it were bullets from firelocks.
Facing such a strike, Hiliard also had to take it seriously.
He raised his Black Iron Longsword, a pale golden radiance shining forth.
The swirling dust struck the illusory Origin Quality, but produced the sound of an iron clash.
An Inspector Knight’s ultimate move, striving with all his might against his forr ntor, while the old Knight simply countered with his longsword infused with Origin Quality—their weapons collided with a thunderclap, causing the invisible air around them to shatter and the wind to howl unceasingly.
Catching Hiliard’s heavy strike, Weyges intended to counterattack, but when he expected his opponent to exhaust his strength imdiately, he was shocked to find the old Knight delivering an even heavier sword blow, pushing him back again.
“Stronger than I imagined… Worthy of being the ntor!”
Clenching his teeth, the Black-Haired Knight felt it was unbelievable, but if it were Hiliard, having such strength was only to be expected—he too squeezed out his potential and the power of the potions, continuing to reply with swift stabs.
But there is still one more sword strike.
After one strike, there cos another.
And after that, yet another sword strike!
Weyges watched incredulously as the figure before him, seemingly on the verge of collapse, stood tall and mighty like a mountain—possessing only a sliver of strength, only a thread of life, yet able to unleash a force far beyond his imagination, far beyond all his predictions!
No matter how Weyges changed his tactics, no matter how he tried to break through Hiliard’s defenses, all were in vain.
The old knight’s defensive stance was as solid and thick as a mountain, while his offensive was unstoppable like an avalanche.
He was just an old and frail man, yet he stood directly in front of him, always standing tall.
And yet, even so!
“That’s it!”
Crying out almost fanatically, staring at the figure before him that seed to overlap with the past, Weyges kept charging with his sword: “That’s it!”
And the old knight simply swung his sword in silence.
The storm raged, causing the lake and forest to sway.
In the fierce confrontation, Hiliard spotted a flaw in Weyges’ shifting center of gravity.
A black arc of light cut through the fierce wind.
The knight tried to block with his sword, but a montary change caused him to lose grip, and his weapon was knocked away.
Weyges knew the situation was bad.
He took a step back, and his huge bone Armored Clothing shattered on the spot like reactive armor, confusing the old knight’s judgnt, and he slipped out of it, retreating back agilely like a large cat.
But in the instant of his retreat, he saw the arc of the Black Iron Greatsword following closely, always having locked onto him.
Hiliard, it turned out, had not been affected by any blinding tactics; his sword thrust straight for his heart!
Weyges put all his effort into bracing and turning, his spine powered him to shift half a foot in mid-air.
But Hiliard’s thrust still pierced through his shoulder blade.
The force of the Blunt Greatsword, like breaking porcelain, effortlessly shattered Weyges’ right arm, scapula, and collarbone, and even part of his rib cage suffered comminuted fractures.
His flesh and blood turned into a muddy ss akin to being struck by a heavy hamr.
The Black-Haired Knight was thrown like trash, rolling several tis on the ground.
But at this mont, which should have declared victory, Hiliard’s face showed astonishnt.
He stepped back two paces, not pursuing but clutching his abdon instead.
Blood was flowing out, and there was a bone long knife there, looking like a hand bone.
“…Good decision.”
The old knight gazed at the long knife made of human bone stuck in his own abdon and admired sincerely: “Knowing that your right hand was bound to be severed, you simply controlled the calcification of your right hand to use as a weapon.
While I shattered your bones, you took advantage of the situation to activate it.”
“Cough cough…
Don’t ntion a hand, even if I bet my life, in the thousands of sword exchanges, it was just for the chance of a single counterattack.”
Spitting out a mouthful of bloody water, Weyges struggled to his feet, his gaze firmly fixed on Hiliard.
His eyes, reddened by his own blood, showed no emotion, only the deepest determination.
Joy?
Awe?
Respect?
Anger?
Hate?
Doubt?
All complex thoughts were cast aside.
He now wanted victory.
The ntor was injured, could he still attack?
No matter what, caution was needed…
The knight bolstered his spirits, digesting the potion in his belly.
As long as he could continue to endure, victory would be his.
Of course, he might also die…
but what of it?
To die in…
Just as Weyges was pulling together his spirit, preparing for the final showdown, he was taken aback to see Hiliard break off the bone knife in his abdon, leaving just a piece of the blade in the wound to prevent heavy bleeding, and then without a mont’s hesitation, turned and walked away.
“ntor!?”
Watching the retreating figure, Weyges was stunned, but soon his astonishnt turned into extre rage: “Again—just like this!
Leaving without saying anything, even if it’s to the death, you’re not willing to tell the truth!”
“What do you actually want to do?
Am I not worthy?
Do I not even deserve to die by your hand?!”
As if the bewildernt from decades ago at the palace rged with the present, Weyges took an angry step forward, but the loss of his hand and a severe lung injury caused his body to sway, leaving him only able to watch helplessly as Hiliard disappeared from his sight.
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