"Ah!"
The raspy roar of the monster heralded the beginning of a new battle, and its heavy steps made even the earth tremble with each stride.
But the Black Armor feared no challenge, and the dark flas on its body seed agitated, influenced by the surging battle intent.
The frenzied power seed to activate the life within the Black Armor. The dull red eyeball on the helt suddenly brightened, as if fresh blood was flowing within it. The helt, styled like a monster's head, gradually took on a snarling appearance, looking even more sinister.
From the shoulders, a thick surge of dark flas ford a cloak, crackling animatedly despite the lack of wind, like flickering flas.
Simultaneously, the joints of its body ignited with unquenchable dark flas, and the spikes on its body extended again, while the armor on its hands transford into claws. The Black Armor appeared like a demon returning from the Abyssal Purgatory.
It moved!
With its movents, the plates of armor that fit snugly to its form shifted, and the connecting tendrils seed to squirm, creating ripples in the air.
As if free from air resistance, after a few strides, it erupted with speed far surpassing before, reaching the monster almost instantaneously.
There were no flashy combat skills. It simply raised its hand high, the fist fully engulfed in dark flas.
As the fist descended, the dark flas stretched out like a cot's tail, dazzlingly brilliant.
teor Fist!
The next second, that fist collided fiercely with the monster; the flesh could not withstand the violent power carried by the Black Armor. A single punch pierced directly into the monster's body.
It was an explosion of violent power in an instant. The flesh could not bear such terrifying force, shredded like a juicer grinding it to pulp.
As the fist was withdrawn, the putrid flesh was expelled from the cavity's pressure, pouring out like breaking a vat filled with flesh.
But even this could not stop the figure's uncontrollable raging power.
"Ee~ya! Ya ya ya!"
A series of desperate roars transmitted through the Black Armor, as if the monster hidden within had awakened.
Both arms swung their fists at a terrifying speed, instantly creating countless fist shadows, as if striking all at once.
teor Hundred Rupture Fist!
The fists were indistinct, but the monster's enormous body, like a target, visibly caved under the fists, the thick flesh gnawed away at a speed visible to the eye, unable to be stopped even by bone.
This horrific scene even elicited a desperate cry from the forrly fear-bereft monster.
It seed that even the flesh blessed by the Evil God could not combat this terrifying force.
Were it conscious, it surely could not fathom why the blessing of a god was so fragile?
But at this mont, the Black Armor's action paused, still maintaining a punching stance. The pits on its arm were filled with flesh, evidently feasted just before.
And the power from this consud flesh?
The Black Armor slowly retracted its fist, showing no intention of continuing the fight, instead standing before the monster. The monster paused as well, riddled with holes yet not dead; this was the confidence of the Ascension Cultist!
The monster suddenly let out a strange cry, its body finally reacting to strike the Black Armor with a bone spur.
Yet this movent seed to trigger sothing, causing the body to suddenly freeze.
The monster's woundless back suddenly bulged, then the next second, split open with fist-sized holes, from which dark flas erupted instead of flesh.
It was like fireworks igniting, the monster's body continuously bulging and exploding with dark flas.
The power injected with each punch erupted simultaneously, like morbid flowers blooming on the flesh.
Finally, the surging dark flas engulfed the entire monster, the largest bloom unfurling at the mont of its death, a strange beauty indeed.
The Black Armor raised its hand, the monster's massive corpse devoured by the Void, and with it, the dark blossoms withered...
As the monster fell, the town returned to silence, save for the crackling of burning buildings around.
Yet the Black Armor unexpectedly turned its head to the side, and from that direction ca a startled cry.
"Ah!"
Realizing its presence was detected, the hiding Looter imdiately turned to flee.
He had earlier burst into a house and killed the owner, then found a cellar, thinking there were valuables, he searched thoroughly but found nothing, yet unwittingly avoided the initial wave of the heretic's assault.
The problem now was as the Looter fled, the remaining being devoured alive by the heretics. Trapped inside the house, he dared not exit.
For the living's scent had been detected, the heretics began frantically banging at the door, the nearly collapsing wooden door seed ready to give any second.
He thought his end was near, but suddenly, the heretics were drawn to sothing, rushing away like maniacs.
Thinking himself saved, he bitterly realized those heretics headed towards the town's gate; to escape, he could only follow.
Thus, he beheld that indescribable battle... but now, it had its eyes on him!
Flee, the only thought consuming his mind.
He sprinted towards the town's entrance.
If he could reach that place...
The Black Armor watched silently, the dark flas around it suddenly swelling to envelop it entirely, and in the next second, the silhouette vanished along with the flas.
When it reappeared, it had crossed a significant distance, materializing right in front of the fleeing Looter.
"Where are you going?"
The voice was like a ghost calling for his life. The Looter looked up, instantly freezing and collapsing to the ground motionless, terror etched on his face, eyes wide with despair.
He was scared to death!
The mind couldn't endure the assault of such magnitude.
The Black Armor seed perplexed by this, but rely raised its hand to erase his existence's traces.
After leaving battle mode, the black flas on the armor dissipated, the cloak with it, the spikes retracted, the claws beca smooth, resembling normal human hands.
With the transformation of the sinister helt into dispersing dark flas, a terrifying sight was revealed, the face marked by scorching and tearing, nearly grotesque with disfigurent.
Yet with each breath, the flesh reconstructed, revealing Lance's slightly weary countenance.
Such a peculiar armor, burning dark flas, and the helt resembling the Limping Walker's head—there was no one else in Hamlet linked to it other than Lance.
Regarding this Black Armor, created by slaying the Limping Walker and using Fleshcrafting, then tainted by Dark Flas, nourished through Sacrifice, it was the teorite.
An array of seemingly bizarre and inexplicable operations ultimately forged this armor.
"Whew~" Lance exhaled deeply, as if released from a long-held breath.
It seed that wielding this armor in intense combat was still sowhat of a strain even for him.
Lance glanced down at the armor, not capitivated by its displayed power, but with an expression of apprehension.
Because this armor was alive...
The recent skirmish was Lance's test of the full armor setup. One had to admit neither the Looter nor the heretics elicited the armor's true might, only the final Flesh Monster served as a worthwhile target.
The armor's capabilities weren't as simplistic, its basic transmitted power gave Lance a fundantal understanding.
Foremost, the armor's crucial ability was Activation, a trait discovered earlier, a likely residual effect of unsuccessful Fleshcrafting.
It could slightly alter according to the user's intent, or adapt to the user's instincts, akin to shifting into different modes.
The appearance during battle with ordinary Looters and heretics, and with the Flesh Monster, was evidently different.
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