Chapter 835: Chapter 835

The previous attack by the tentacles had left He Ao with wounds both on his front and back, and just then, Cowen’s sword had connected these two injuries.

Blood continuously dripped down from the torn black robe, but He Ao’s gaze was still fixed on Cowen before him.

Cowen watched the youth before him and suddenly lifted his knife, sweeping it towards He Ao.

He Ao also stepped forward, swinging the broken sword in his hand, deflecting the golden long knife to the side.

The broken tip of the sword had been snapped off about one third of the way down from the sword’s blade, leaving He Ao with just two-thirds of its length to work with. However, because the Strengthening Magic Array was incomplete, the sword’s integrity was far from what it had been.

After this simple clash, new cracks began to spread along the broken sword.

He Ao changed his sword style, thrusting forward, stabbing at Cowen.

Cowen stood his sword in front of him, blocking He Ao’s broken sword, and with a powerful force, shook the entire broken sword apart.

He Ao’s wrist trembled, jolted backward.

Cowen took the opportunity to lift his leg and kick out, striking He Ao’s wrist with a snappy kick, sending the broken sword flying out of his hand, across the sky, out of the platform of flesh and blood, and into the drifting snow.

"Little fellow, your body is rapidly weakening."

Cowen, holding the golden long sword, watched He Ao, "Your own strength, the forces you can borrow, they are all weaker than mine. How much longer can you hold out?"

Snowflakes landed on the golden blade, gradually melting.

He lifted the long sword and thrust it forward once more, stabbing again at He Ao.

He Ao leapt forward, dodging to the side and rolling on the ground. Cowen followed closely, constantly thrusting his sword downward.

He Ao swiftly rolled several times before finally putting some distance between him and Cowen.

Then he slowly reached out, picking up the small remaining piece of the sword tip from the ground, held it in his hand, tip-down, and stood up once again.

At this moment, his position relative to Cowen had completely reversed.

He had rolled over just to retrieve this fragment of the broken sword.

Cowen glanced at the sword tip in He Ao’s hand and sneered, lifting his sword again and slashing towards He Ao’s face.

The short section of sword had no hilt, so He Ao could only grip the blade, letting the sharp edges cut into his palm, orange blood trickling down along the sword.

He Ao, holding the half-piece of the broken sword, blocked Cowen’s chop.

His body leaned forward with the motion, trying to trap Cowen’s long sword and close the distance between them.

Now with a shorter weapon, he needed to be in close quarters to gain an advantage.

Cowen clearly understood this as well, and he suddenly lifted his sword, slicing past He Ao’s armpit.

He Ao spun backwards, avoiding the slice.

Cowen, continuing the motion, held the sword one-handed, raising it high and chopping down at He Ao, who hadn’t yet regained his footing.

He Ao immediately lifted the broken sword in his hand to block the chop, then gripped the broken sword with both hands, disregarding the blood flowing from his palms, and with an upward tremor, shook off the long sword, taking a step forwards to close in on Cowen.

He grasped the broken sword, stabbing towards Cowen’s chest.

Cowen quickly drew back his sword to block He Ao’s broken sword, the blade clashing against the sword tip, with fine cracks spreading along the tip.

But He Ao seemed oblivious to the changes to the broken sword; the moment his sword tip was deflected, he quickly raised the broken sword, slashing at Cowen’s sword-hand.

At such a short distance, Cowen could not avoid the attack.

He immediately lifted his sword upward; the blade spun out of his hand, flying upwards. As his arm drew back, evading He Ao’s attack, it formed a small shield, guarding his chest.

By now, He Ao had already taken the opportunity to thrust the broken sword forward, stabbing at Cowen’s chest.

But in that instant, a sharp pain erupted from the boy’s own chest.

The flying blade was caught by Cowen’s other hand, stabbing into He Ao’s chest.

Blood continuously flowed down the golden blade.

Cowen held the hilt of his sword in one hand and his other hand still formed a golden glow, guarding his chest. A smile curled on his lips. He was about to say something more, but the next second, his words suddenly stopped short.

He reached out his hand, touching his own throat, only feeling warm blood.

Streams of fresh blood, glowing with orange brilliance, trickled down from the cracked and broken sword.

"How could this happen..."

Cowen’s mouth hung open, his gaze filled with disbelief.

From the very beginning, He Ao had not aimed for the chest, but for the energy convergence point at Cowen’s neck. Countless probing strikes, even the brief shift in the attack’s direction intended to mislead, had been a lead-up to this very instant.

Bright’s movement technique could be used not just for evasion but also for offense.

With a crisp sound, the broken sword scattered into countless sparkling fragments amid the falling snow.

The young man slowly began to speak, his hoarse voice emanating from him,

"The ones closest to death are not the weak, but the arrogant."

The snow fell thicker and thicker, covering both of their hair.

As Cowen’s life force gradually weakened, the massive fleshy platform rapidly disintegrated.

The Eternal Divine Nation had no self-consciousness; it would not attack on its own and relied entirely on Cowen’s control.

In fact, the Esoteric Teachings would prefer that the Eternal Divine Nation did not possess self-awareness.

This was something He Ao deduced from the ’actions’ of the Eternal Divine Nation since his entry, as well as the ’slow movements’ of those blood-shaded figures.

As a human, Cowen’s brain had its limits, and his connection with the Eternal Divine Nation was not that profound. He couldn’t make all the blood-shaded figures come alive and act at his command.

Naturally, if he had fused with the Eternal Divine Nation from the start through ’Enchantment’, the outcome might have been different.

But in this world, there are no what-ifs.

The external connection built by ’Enchantment’ had been ’erased’ by He Ao from the start.

Since Cowen had not merged with the Eternal Divine Nation, there were vulnerabilities in their ’combination’, and that vulnerability was Cowen, the ’controller’ himself.

To kill Cowen would be to return the mighty Eternal Divine Nation to silence once again.

Therefore, He Ao had never intended to flee from the start; he simply forced Cowen into a personal confrontation through this tactic.

Retreat as a way to advance, luring the enemy to come to him.

Evidently, Cowen realized this too. He didn’t fall backward but instead, with the last of his strength, raised his head and laughed as he looked at He Ao, blood spewing continuously from his mouth,

"Indeed, just as the Holy See said, if I’m not careful, I really could die at your hands."

At that moment, He Ao’s thoughts suddenly shifted, and he looked up into the sky.

Endless brilliance emerged beneath the dancing snowflakes, forming a twisted net of golden light in the sky.

The young man immediately leaped backward, attempting to pull out the golden longsword embedded in his own body and break free.

Mecha in the sky descended swiftly.

In that instant, a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.

He Ao turned back to see Cowen in front of him.

The body and soul of the white-robed High Priest before him were rapidly disintegrating; his body breaking apart as he clutched tightly to He Ao’s arm,

"But in the end, you still fell into the Holy See’s scheme. This is the Cage prepared for you! You will never be able to leave here!"

The fleshy platform under their feet that was falling apart turned into the final tendrils, twisting around both their bodies.

Some sort of twisted ritual seemed to have been triggered, finally activating the power of the Eternal Divine Nation.

And as the fleshy platform collapsed, leaving them without support, both their bodies fell rapidly.

The Mecha in the sky sped downward, attempting to catch He Ao, but it crashed into the golden light net as if hitting an impenetrable wall, unable to advance.

The Mecha lifted its Plasma Cannon and fired upon the light net, but it did not shake the net in the slightest.

This massive light net, like a hemispherical dome, covered the entire area.

Howling winds swept across He Ao’s face as, under the last remnants of falling snow and the shroud of night, all ’buildures’ were rapidly collapsing.

High-rise buildings, as if devoid of structural strength, melted like snow and ice into surging flows of flesh and blood.

Cowen, with his gruesome, bleeding head, kept his gaze on He Ao and also watched the golden ’Cage’ flickering in the sky, laughing hysterically,

"The coming of the great Divine Nation is unstoppable!"

From the beginning, his goal had been to kill He Ao or imprison him here, no matter the cost, even if it meant sacrificing his own body and soul.

With all the power of the Eternal Divine Nation in this area, he sealed the heavens and the earth, turning them into a prison, to incarcerate the youth within.

Until the final moment of Advent.

The tentacles that tightly entwined both figures could not loosen, as both silhouettes simultaneously crashed into the flowing flesh ’stream.’

The surrounding void fell into an eerie silence, aside from the mechas in the sky still trying to break through the protective shield, only the drifting snowflakes, also trapped in this cage, sprinkled down bit by bit, sinking into the writhing flesh.

After an unknown amount of time passed, these writhing flesh churned, and a figure in a golden-threaded white robe emerged from the flesh, his eyes wide as he stared at the sky, his expression already lifeless.

His body quickly disintegrated and merged into the surrounding writhing flesh.

After a brief pause, the body of a black-robed youth, with eyes tightly closed, also floated up from the flesh.

The pristine snowflakes landed on his eyelids, and then, his eyes abruptly sprung open.

Specks of red-tinged orange brilliance emerged from his pitch-black eyes, forming an inverted triangular symbol embedded within the sealed eyelids.

The falling snowflakes landed on his body, melting into his snow-white skin.

The clouds in the sky seemed to descend further, the howling blizzard surged.

The darkness of the entire city seemed to throb and undulate.

It was as if something was writhing beneath the darkness, continuously touching the barriers between the dark and reality.

But everything was so quiet,

As silent as a womb in gestation.

Amidst gunfire and cannon fire, Captain Lutz, with a calm smile on his face, slowly stepped into the warplane that came from Ains.

Directly ahead of the entrance was a holographic projection of a blonde serving woman. She looked at Lutz, smiled slightly, and then slowly lifted her hand to point inside the cabin.

Lutz turned and followed the direction she indicated, moving forward through a narrow corridor until he stopped in front of a tightly closed electronic door.

As the electronic door in the corridor opened, the smile on Lutz’s face stiffened in an instant.

Inside the narrow cabin were simple sofa chairs, but not a single ’passenger’ was present at this moment.

Then, the warplane that had been stationary suddenly started up, and the cabin door swiftly closed.

In that instant, Lutz realized something and immediately ran back.

The dazzling muzzle of the warplane lit up thunderously, as the powerful plasma cannon unleashed a brilliance that could nearly illuminate the entire dark sky in an instant.

This brilliance pierced through the defensive position in front of the Security Union and even directly through the exterior walls of the airport, creating a vast opening.

Everyone was briefly stunned at this moment. The Mercenary Corps, which had been systematically surrounding the Security Union and others, suddenly forgot to regroup.

Jato, who was at the forefront, didn’t hesitate as he fired a few shots into the sky and then quickly led the people from the Security Union toward the gap.

Cloud District・Mayor’s Mansion

The red-haired woman maneuvered the dagger, shattering the energy cell of the mechanized body soldier in front of her, and the intense flames of the explosion filled the narrow corridor.

The blonde girl charged out against the flames, continuing to dart down the long corridor.

The corridor was filled with an eerie silence; the bright lights from the top stretched down to the door at the very end.

No more mercenaries were blocking the way.

This did not fit the conditions for an ’imprisonment.’

This wasn’t the girl’s first time in this corridor, nor her first time passing through it, but it was her first time feeling so estranged from it.

Her rose-gold metal boots clinked crisply against the floor.

She clenched her teeth and ran desperately, as if trying to throw the thoughts in her mind behind her.

The floor, clean as a mirror, reflected the running figure of the girl.

Her speed increased, faster and faster.

Until she reached the small door.

She stopped, slowly stretched out her hand, and grasped the doorknob.

The trembling, hesitant beat of her heart echoed in her ears and in her heart.

She stared at the bright silver doorknob in front of her, falling into silence.

The hand that held the doorknob loosened subconsciously.

But in the end, she tightened her grip on the doorknob again, gently turned it, and pushed the door open.

There were no gunshots, no roars, and no scolding.

In the spacious office, there was only an elderly figure with white hair and beard, who lifted his head when the girl opened the door, his hand wiping a picture frame with a white cloth.

The colorless, pure white robe draped over him filled the entire space with a faint, holy radiance.

"You shouldn’t have come, child."

He turned around and placed the picture frame on the bookshelf.

The girl calmly gazed at the old man, and at that moment, she finally realized something. Her hand remained on the doorknob, eyes shimmering with tears that yet did not fall.

"We were all young back then,"

The old man looked at the four youthful faces in the picture frame, his aged voice tinged with a hint of a sigh, "Youth is always fearless, but as I taught you, to achieve a certain goal, you always have to sacrifice something,"

He turned back to face the girl, "I am very sorry about your father. He still is my dear friend, always has been."

The old man’s figure shattered in the hazy light, dissolving into the brilliance.

The girl lowered her head, fingers tightly gripping the doorknob.

The red-haired woman standing behind the girl stepped through the door and onto the balcony.

She reached out to catch the falling snowflakes, looking up at the grim gray sky.

In the deepest part of the drifting veil of snow, high above, the clouds and wind seemed torn apart by some twisting force, revealing radiant fissures.

These fissures stretched and contracted, like a massive ’heart,’ ’thumping’ rhythmically.

The howling wind swept snowflakes across the freezing cliffs.

Gast, with bandages tied across his chest, stood against the gale on the cliffs, gazing out at the distant sea.

An elderly man of lean build, his eyes bright and sharp, dressed in a Federal Bureau of Investigation uniform, also stood on the cliff, staring out at the sea ahead.

The surface of the sea undulated in darkness, with only the sound of waves crashing against the rocks.

"It looks like we don’t have much time left."

A man with brown short hair and a fine mustache on his upper lip, standing tall and looking rather sophisticated, walked out from behind Gast; he didn’t look at the sea but swept his gaze over the snowflakes in the sky, looking along the coast toward another place.

At the end of his view, beneath a dimming sky, loomed a grand and massive city, its silhouette barely visible in the dark at the edge of the sea.

Above this colossal city, among the rolling snow and mist, radiant fissures spanned the void, as if nameless shadows crawled over the city with bizarre glows, obscuring the already dim lights.

Under the illumination of this twisted radiance, the steel and concrete walls covered with shadows seemed like contorted flesh, with piercing screams hidden in the wind, writhing in the depths of the night.

A giant Hell Apostle Mech hovered behind the group.

Gast looked at the churning sea and suddenly said.

Everyone looked ahead as a few scattered lights bobbed with the waves in the storm, gradually approaching them.