Chapter 1718: Michael’s hidden ace
Michael’s instincts scread in pure horror as Cain’s right eye lood ever larger, dominating his vision entirely. As a seasoned warrior who had survived countless battles over millions of years, the white stag Deus Behemoth was prepared for virtually any threat—especially illusions.
Yet, even his vast experience could not help him in this critical mont, for his formidable defenses required preparation and forewarning.
The thrill of apparent victory and the sudden proximity of Cain’s terrifying right eye erased any opportunity Michael had to counteract the sinister technique.
Before Michael could even begin to comprehend the danger, the entire world drained of color, transforming instantly into stark black and white. Above him, a colossal dark moon hovered ominously in an otherwise empty sky, radiating a chilling, malevolent force.
Not even a nanosecond later, nightmarish hooks materialized from every conceivable direction, brutally piercing Michael’s legs, chest, and skull. They ripped violently through his flesh, pulling outward with agonizing force, slowly and thodically dismbering him.
Even for a Peak Prima Deity of Michael’s unimaginable resilience, the sheer intensity of this tornt was nearly unbearable. Yet the torture did not end there—instead, he was instantly reforged, only to find himself replicated tenfold.
Each agonizing version of Michael shared a consciousness, magnifying his suffering exponentially as they were slowly and rcilessly torn apart once more.
Inside the dense sea of dark miasma, Cain and Michael had remained locked motionless for rely a second. Yet, as the horrifying illusion ended and the Dark Moon Eye closed, a seismic shift occurred on the battlefield.
The raging energy, imnse focus, and legendary battle awareness of the Deus Behemoth suffered a trendous blow. The brilliant golden radiance that shielded Michael flickered dangerously, its stability severely compromised.
Cain seized the opportunity imdiately. Still gripping Michael’s antlers tightly to prevent any movent, Cain raised the Shooting Star Dragon Halberd decisively above his head.
With rciless precision, Cain brought the weapon down toward the center of Michael’s skull, intent on cleaving it in two.
At that crucial mont, just as death seed inevitable, a monstrous willpower flared in Michael’s eyes. In a shocking display of determination, Michael forcibly snapped off his own antlers, wrenching his head free at the last possible instant.
Cain stared in disbelief at the incredible ferocity and resolve Michael displayed, especially after enduring such relentless tornt. Yet, Cain did not falter. Although his strike missed Michael’s head, it still connected brutally with the previous injury on his opponent’s shoulder.
The already damaged shoulder provided minimal resistance against the overwhelming force of Cain’s halberd. A sickening, splintering sound echoed clearly across the battlefield as the powerful weapon cleanly severed Michael’s arm from his body.
“AAHHHHHHHHHHH!” Michael roared in agony. The Deus Behemoth imdiately transford his form into a blinding beam of light, swiftly retreating as far as he could manage into the dense miasma, desperate to gain distance from his deadly opponent.
Fortunately for Michael, Cain was not currently able to pursue him imdiately—the broken antlers still protruded grotesquely from Cain’s chest, piercing deeply into his internal organs.
Cain looked down, his expression grave, as he assessed the damage. Despite his trendous physical defenses, Michael’s antlers had penetrated astonishingly deep.
“I should thank my endurance,” Cain thought with grim satisfaction. “Without the ticulous refinent my body underwent, these antlers would have pierced straight through , exiting from my back. Moving would have been nearly impossible.”
With steely resolve, Cain grasped the antlers firmly and, bracing himself, yanked them from his body in a single, violent motion. Blood erupted forth, cascading heavily from the severe wounds.
Michael, who had just regained so asure of control over his own battered body, watched this scene unfold with renewed hope.
Noticing the gaping holes in Cain’s chest, Michael briefly smiled. He understood that Cain’s injuries, though montarily disguised by bravado, were equally critical. There remained a genuine chance to win this brutal encounter, despite his own grave wounds.
However, Michael’s hope evaporated into shock re monts later.
Under the stunned gaze of the Deus Behemoth, Cain’s horrendous wounds closed rapidly, seamlessly repairing themselves in re seconds. Soon, no trace remained of the terrible injuries—no scars, no damage—as though they had never existed.
“The regenerative power of the Royal Rebirth Mark’s Pseudo-Immortal Body is truly extraordinary,” Cain remarked quietly to himself, smiling confidently.
Of course, such miraculous healing consud vast amounts of energy, but it was unquestionably worth the price. Cain then fixed his icy gaze back onto Michael, his expression cold and ruthless.
With deliberate coldness, Cain opened his mouth wide and swallowed Michael’s severed arm and broken antlers whole. This chilling spectacle left Michael feeling both shocked and deeply enraged.
Few things were more insulting to a warrior of his stature than witnessing an enemy treat him as re food, a casual al rather than a formidable foe.
Yet, unlike the Crown Prince of the Golden Star Kingdom, who would crumble under hatred and humiliation, Michael retained his stoic composure, responding only with a asured nod of grudging respect.
“I admit it—you are indeed powerful,” Michael began slowly, his voice steady despite his grievous injuries. “And in my current state, I definitely cannot defeat you.”
Although these words appeared to concede defeat, Cain’s expression did not relax. Instead, his grip tightened instinctively around the Shooting Star Dragon Halberd, sensing an impending threat—sothing dangerously beyond re bravado.
“I always knew I might have to use this power during the Oga War,” Michael continued solemnly, his chest beginning to glow ominously with radiant, blood-red energy.
Cain’s eyes narrowed sharply as he felt the imnse and terrifying aura emanating from Michael—an aura clearly surpassing the limits of the Prima Deity Rank, existing above the very laws that governed the universe itself.
“I believed this power would be reserved for the triumvirate of Divine Calamity Heaven,” Michael declared resolutely, the intensity of the bloody radiance reaching its zenith, illuminating the oppressive miasma.
Cain’s expression darkened profoundly as realization dawned, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with recognition and dread.
“That aura belongs to ArchDeity Divine Sea.”
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