Chapter 1581: Chapter 1581

As Jenkins pondered the colossal monster's weakness, he rode the unicorn high into the sky. He cast a glance at the Church's demigods, poised to charge in the moment the arcane lock finally shattered. He reached for the metal block in his coat, then hesitated, deciding he could probably save it.

He was known as a "Believer of Lies," a title that made him an object of apprehension for the Church and a source of dread for the Enchanters of Nolan. Yet their fear didn't stem from some imagined power they had concocted in their minds while he remained weak. No, they were afraid because he was genuinely, terrifyingly powerful.

Though he was known to the world as a Believer of Lies, every feat attributed to him was one he had accomplished through his own strength. He might have concealed his face and identity, but he was no coward hiding in the shadows, building a reputation on the wild imaginations of others.

He used many lies as a cloak, but beneath them all, one fact remained undeniably true: he was powerful.

Lost in thought, he found himself hovering directly above the colossal blood-mosquito. Its compound eyes swiveled upward to fix on him, and a profound, cursing power materialized from thin air. The unicorn instantly reared its head, unleashing a resounding cry. Amid the creature's spirited call, its golden horn radiated a gentle white light that pierced the blood mist. The spreading glow illuminated the crimson aura of the curse itself.

Jenkins gently stroked the unicorn's mane, enjoying its surprisingly soft texture. *A good thing Chocolate is back in the ruins watching Miss Capet,* he mused. *Otherwise, that cat would have bristled with jealousy.*

"If it's a Cursed Item's curse," he said with a smirk, "then I have just the thing..."

With a sudden leap, he vaulted from the unicorn's back. In mid-air, he gripped his sword with both hands and brought it down in a powerful cleaving strike. The blood-mosquito monster registered the lethal threat, whipping its head around and thrusting its sharp proboscis toward the falling Jenkins.

The massive, rapier-like proboscis met the White Bone Holy Sword in mid-air. With startling ease, the holy sword sheared through the tough biological tissue before striking the monster's head, which had no time to evade.

The creature instantly let out a howl bordering on infrasound, thrashing its head violently in an attempt to dislodge him. But Jenkins held fast, using the embedded sword as an anchor.

The holy sword was buried nearly to the hilt in the colossal mosquito's head, bringing Jenkins's hands and feet into direct contact with the monster. Unable to shake him off, the creature changed tactics. The thick blood mist billowed in from all sides, surging into the monster's body and, impossibly, trying to pull Jenkins in along with it.

Though Jenkins was still a creature of flesh and blood, the myriad abilities he possessed were a perfect counter to this monster. He wouldn't even need to resort to [Blasphemous Creation]—he had plenty of other ways to win.

"Just what I was waiting for!"

He offered no resistance, allowing the monster to pull him inside. A few seconds later, a brilliant white light erupted from within the creature's torso. A whirling sword dance, unleashed from the inside out, nearly bisected the colossal blood-mosquito. Orıginal content can be found at novęlfire.net

Laughing, Jenkins leaped from the gaping wound. Even as the blood mist rushed to seal the injury, he vaulted back onto the unicorn's back. The brilliant aura of his sword blazed with enough power to seemingly shatter the arcane lock itself.

"I am a hero, after all."

As he spoke, the black point of light in his vision representing [Hero] flared brilliantly. All this time, Jenkins had assumed it was merely a passive ability, one that granted him immunity to the mental corruption of Cursed Items and allowed him to touch them with his bare hands.

But now, as the fight raged on, [Hero] finally revealed a different purpose. In this moment, Jenkins was forging a legend, shaping a myth. He was a lone man fighting a monstrous, inhuman foe for the sake of justice (supposedly), and he was, without a doubt, worthy of the title "hero."

A white light flowed from his body into the blade of his sword, but this newfound power was merely a bonus. What was truly important were the combat techniques and the experience in fighting colossal monsters that had suddenly flooded his mind.

The ancient hero who had passed this power to Jenkins had been right. The essence of the [Hero] ability was a bond—the conviction of generations who had passed down their strength for the sake of justice. When the ability was truly activated in a fitting context, those forgotten figures, long since lost to the river of time, could still offer their experience and power to their successor.

Their raw power was insignificant to Jenkins, but their combat experience was precisely what he lacked.

It was as if his eyes could pierce the river of ages, witnessing the battles of ancient champions. The stream of history had washed away their names, but as long as someone remained to carry the torch of their justice and conviction, their strength would never truly fade.

Jenkins never considered himself the type to fight for justice. Still, he didn't mind playing the "champion of righteousness" when he had nothing better to do. For that reason, he was no natural-born savior, no true [Hero]. And yet, in this era, it would be hard to find anyone more kind or merciful than this outsider.

A torrent of flame erupted from his body, seeming to set the very blood mist ablaze. The unicorn let out a piercing cry, its sacred power driving back the encroaching malice of the curse. Jenkins swung his sword down, and its radiant aura crashed against the blood-mosquito that was once the Countess.

The resulting shockwave scattered the blood mist once more. Furious and humiliated, the monster let out an enraged buzz and shot into the sky as well.

Below the unicorn, the ring of swirling sword energy expanded outward once more, and a biting frost began to fill the air, threatening to rival the oppressive blood mist.

The blood mist coalesced, forming crimson tentacles that lashed out at Jenkins, only to be effortlessly severed by the trails of his blade.

Hidden within the animated mist were the souls of the cursed. As the great blood-mosquito manipulated blood energy to attack Jenkins, it also commanded these souls—twisted into ghastly forms by the Cursed Item's power—to harry its opponent.

The souls took the form of swarming, bloodsucking insects, but Jenkins merely had to glance their way. The power of [Nightmare Entanglement] immediately sent them into a deep, peaceful slumber.

A distorted human face lunged from the mist, and Jenkins shattered it with a single punch. The unicorn carried him, weaving nimbly through the crimson haze, as the ever-whirling arcs of his blade threatened to finally sever the arcane lock, now on the verge of collapse.

"So this is how strong I've become."

He thought to himself as he leaped from the unicorn's back once more, diving toward the colossal mosquito's head below. A gray mist of decay wreathed his blade, but clinging to the holy sword—forged with material from the World Tree—was a green spiritual light visible only to him.

The blade, now imbued with two opposing forces, plunged into the monster's head once more. As the powers of death and life intertwined within its body, the conflicting energies collided, triggering a terrifying explosion.