WHIMPER!
A woeful cry imdiately rose from above the pyramid. The originally dazzling Golden Code, shining like a miniature sun, extinguished in an instant. As Beatrice collapsed to the ground with a THUD, Byron swiftly caught her. The Code’s nearly established firm anchor chain to Conqueror Cortes, along with the na about to be successfully imprinted on its title page, all disappeared without a trace. The Luminous Crown that was about to coalesce above Cortes’s head naturally disintegrated as well.
A chain reaction of collapses occurred as suddenly as a line of dominoes falling. This was a hidden ritual Priestess Beatrice had secretly constructed for Cortes, leveraging the Aztec Empire’s resources. It was all to cunningly seize the golden "bridal gown" that the Aztecs had so painstakingly woven. As the presiding Wizard, Beatrice acted as the dium for the ritual connecting heaven and earth. At this critical juncture, Byron seized the opportunity to backstab the dium during the ceremony’s most crucial mont, thereby bankrupting the coronation.
Destroying was easy; succeeding was hard. For Beatrice and Cortes, who had ticulously planned for years, this failure was catastrophic. Once this opportunity was missed, and with most of the Imperial City’s residents succumbing to illness and perishing, the Golden Code would lose much of its power without the support of its "citizens." Even if it remained a powerful First-Class Holy Relic, the elents required for kingship were incomplete. Thus, Conqueror Cortes’s prospect of claiming the Kingly Title would beco indefinitely distant. Even if, one day, he could successfully achieve it, without the current Heavenly Ti and advantageous geography, it might no longer possess the potential to break through the limitations of the Silver Law.
"No——!"
Cortes’s smile froze on his face as he desperately tried to grasp the vanishing Crown. But like trying to catch the moon’s reflection in water, his hand closed on empty air. What he failed to grasp wasn’t just a Crown, but also the radiant future he was about to steal from the Aztec Emperor, a gamble for which he had risked all his wealth and his woman. This ambitious conspirator, so close to victory, finally tasted the sa tragic, joy-turned-to-sorrow pain that Montezuma II had just experienced.
Looking at Beatrice, who lay stabbed on the ground, her full, red lips suddenly parted, stretching wider than her shoulders, like a snake’s. Imdiately, another beautiful, naked woman slithered out from within the original skin, boneless as a serpent. As she erged, she shrieked, "Alvin, you treacherous dog, I will kill—"
Before Beatrice could finish her threat, she was horrified to find that the penetrating sword wound, which should have vanished after she shed her skin, remained on her chest. Her already unsightly complexion instantly turned a ghastly, ashen white. "Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!"
Her mouth parted, she shed another skin; parted, shed again. Soon, dozens of beautiful human skins, slick with transparent mucus like so many snake sheddings, lay scattered on the ground. It was clear that these still-animate skins all belonged to stunning beauties; even without flesh and bone, their features remained picturesque, their allure undeniable. Among them was the flayed princess of Chichen Itza City.
Byron, holding the blood-dripping long sword, quietly watched Beatrice’s expression shift from disbelief to unbridled rage, and then from rage back to incredulity.
Having acquired Alvin’s mories, he naturally knew this was the Black Sorcery "Skin Shedding Death Evasion," recorded in the Forbidden Book "Thousand Faces Rites." It allowed her to shed her skin like a snake, transferring any harm she suffered onto the animate human skin she wore—an incredibly potent life-saving ability. Unfortunately, against the True Damage augnted by his "Heartfelt Trouble" ability, her "Skin Shedding Death Evasion" failed to produce its intended effect. The sword wound piercing her heart, her "Achilles’ heel," remained stubbornly on her true body’s chest. She had nearly bled out. Moreover, due to repeatedly activating high-level Black Sorcery in such a short span, this venomous beauty had completely exhausted her Spirituality.
"Falcon, you... you..." Until she drew her last breath, her blood-red snake eyes, filled with confusion, anger, and terror, remained fixed on her "loyal dog," Alvin.
WOOF, WOOF, WOOF...
A loud bark, followed by a fainter, more ethereal one, echoed from the shadows at Byron’s feet. Beatrice’s soul was instantly dragged into his shadow. This ti, however, he did not use one of the three Wild Hunt Servant slots as he had when subduing Alvin.
[Mad Hunt Legion Ability II: You may choose whether to preserve the self-consciousness of the Undead Servant, transforming them into Bizarre entities called Wild Hunt Servants. They shall beco your eyes, ears, will, and the extension of your transcendent abilities, able to move freely, possess living beings, use abilities, and even pass as ordinary people. When possessing their original bodies, they can fully utilize their past strength and even self-ignite for a burst of power at the limit. The current limit is three people.]
With this ability, he could have preserved Beatrice’s consciousness, turning the Third Order Black Witch into a versatile slave who wouldn’t refuse any of his excessive demands. And indeed, her recent boneless, flexible movents had strongly appealed to his aesthetic sense.
However, after confirming that Beatrice’s history had co to a definitive end, Byron casually flicked the blood from his sword blade, his heartstrings finally relaxing. He had his reasons.
"The Versatile Enchantress Beatrice is a born Impostor. If it weren’t for her, even the formidable Cortes could not possibly have completed such an imnse and delicate sche. However, rely spying on Catherine was an act punishable by death. No matter how useful she might have been, her sin is unforgivable; death is the only option! If one only changes their form of existence but retains consciousness, what’s the difference from not dying at all?"
Beatrice herself could never have imagined that her fate would be sealed by her own casual remark: "As soon as this battle is over, I’ll imdiately co back and harvest the renowned Countess Catherine, the Flower of the North."
Byron had no interest in clarifying any doubts for his enemy, letting her die in utter bewildernt.
Having finally personally eliminated this threat that constantly endangered all the world’s beauties, Byron felt a sense of liberation, and even the Spirituality within his body seed to grow more vibrant.
"Ah! You actually killed Beatrice?!" At this mont, the enraged Conqueror Cortes, having drawn his Swift Sword, charged at Byron like a frenzied bull. "Put down my Golden Code!"
Byron once again solemnly corrected him, "No, it’s *my* Golden Code!"
Simultaneously, large swathes of dark blue flas erupted from his body once more. The twelve newly gathered Second Order Undead Servants manifested behind him one by one, then charged into the blue flas like moths to a fire. Serving as spiritual fuel, they caused the flas to burn with even greater ferocity.
As a massive pillar of fire, ten ters high, exploded—
CLOMP! A pitch-black hoof the size of a bowl stepped out of the raging inferno. It was followed by legs sheathed in bone armor, and then a ferocious horse head with razor-sharp teeth, a chaotic mane of thorns, and piercing, dark blue eyes. Its aura, like a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, was terrifying enough to send chills down one’s spine. No, it wasn’t just an aura; actual mountains of corpses and seas of blood seed to manifest with it. The countless Dead Souls that had perished along with the Hethings Strait Fleet wailed mournfully behind it. Upon its back sat a tall Knight, clad in black full-plate armor and a blood-red cape. Two blue flas burned brightly through the slits of his helt.
With a squeeze of his legs against the horse’s flanks, the Phantom Warhorse surged forward like an ironclad War Chariot. Byron, wielding the heavy black lance with his Storm Sword Technique, handled it as if it weighed no more than a straw. The dark blue flas on the lance erupted powerfully as he t the experienced Third Order Knight Commander Cortes head-on, matching offense with offense.
BOOM—!
A shocking explosion thundered through the air. The combined might of rider and steed was so overwhelming that it blasted the enraged and discomposed Transcendent from the pyramid’s summit. He crashed heavily into the Blood River encircling the edifice.
In Transcendent battles, quantity could indeed overwhelm quality. Normally, the Mad Hunt Legion, by sacrificing ten Second Order individuals, could burn them out in three minutes to unleash power surpassing an ordinary Third Order being. Not to ntion Byron had sacrificed twelve at once, and with the Phantom Warhorse beneath him, his explosive power was boosted by another third.
CLATTER, CLATTER, CLATTER...
Byron fastened the Golden Code to his waist. With a tug of the reins, the Phantom Warhorse dashed down the precipitous slope of the pyramid as if scaling walls and leaping across rooftops.
He hadn’t planned on killing only Beatrice today. If you don’t remove the roots when cutting grass, it will grow back with the spring breeze!
Byron never forgot that the Conqueror was not only a vice-admiral of Castilia’s Navy; his wife’s brother-in-law, the local Governor, also wielded significant power. Now that an irreconcilable enmity had been forged, it wasn’t just Cortes; Byron intended to pay The Skinners’ Church a visit soday soon. After all, he possessed Beatrice’s mories and even a complete version of the Bloodline Codex, which might lead directly to a Divine Domain. He had no concerns about finding his targets.
"Of course," Byron mused, "there’s one more crucial reason."
The Sailing Logbook displayed the entry [Why did you carve your na on my pipe?], with the effect:
"Why do you say this is your pipe? My na is carved on it! Huh? Why did you carve your na on my pipe? Pay up! This ability sowhat resembles Cortes’s pioneering order, but each has its strengths. As long as one boldly declares ownership in front of the legitimate owner and then forcefully seizes the item, one gains permanent possession. Not only will you physically claim the object, but mystical ownership will also be inherited."
This ant that if Byron completely seized the Golden Code, he would obtain not only a Sacred Relic but also the lawful right of coronation previously held by Montezuma II and Cortes! Even if he couldn’t solidify his Kingly Title in the short term, he would at least beco the legitimate heir apparent and the successor to the Aztec civilization. From then on, Byron could rightly declare, "The true line of the Aztec Empire resides in the Tayman Archipelago." The best use for this power wasn’t ordinary treasures like gold and silver, but rather contracts, agreents, bank receipts, royal decrees... All those docunts that Pirates would consider trash were, to him, a veritable treasure trove! Henceforth, Byron’s destiny would be closely intertwined with the world’s various treasures. Even if no connection existed previously, a few forceful claims would soon establish one. Dominating and taking by force; it was as simple as that.
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