Chapter 62: Sacrificial Fire |
The lesser demon was summoned, and just as quickly, it was sent away.
Everything unfolded in a mere matter of seconds.
The blade twisted, slicing through the incoming attack once more.
Nemus''s reinforcements had finally arrived.
Enveloped in a dark aura, Downs darted past Purr—who had just been swatted away by a whip formed from condensed golden threads—and charged straight at the old priest.
Simultaneously, a sickly greenish-black flame ignited over Downs''s fist as he threw a savage punch at the old priest.
Demonic Spell-like Ability: Sacrificial Fire!
By burning oneself and offering pain as a sacrifice, the flames'' power surged immensely. Upon striking a target, it would inflict absolute, paralyzing agony.
Most lesser demons were purely physical combatants, entirely devoid of spell-like abilities.
The abilities they awakened varied based on their specific evolutionary path.
Though Krog was merely a lesser demon, he already possessed the necessary foundations of a true demon.
The injection of temporary power fully activated these latent abilities.
As a result, he awakened a relevant spell-like ability. Judging by its effects, his evolutionary trajectory leaned heavily toward a magical specialization, akin to a pain demon.
Such demons were part of a widespread category. In fact, pain warlocks—a prominent branch of spellcasters—derived their practices from studying this exact lineage.
Furthermore, virtually all spellcasters of the warlock class maintained close ties to demonic entities.
Downs''s fist was wreathed in Sacrificial Fire. If even a single spark touched the old priest''s frail, aging body, the sheer agony would annihilate him instantly.
"Demon!" the old priest declared without a shred of fear.
He possessed a wealth of combat experience.
''It is merely a pain demon,'' he thought.
Ripples of energy cascaded around his body, followed by the manifestation of a pristine white flame.
Divine Spell: Holy Fire.
The moment this wisp of flame appeared, it reacted violently with the Sacrificial Fire.
"Aaaargh!" Downs howled in agony, yet he did not halt his advance. With his fist wreathed in the clashing flames, he drove his punch straight forward.
The immortal trait inherent to demons sustained him, preventing him from being instantly reduced to ash.
At the same time, thanks to the Breath of Holy Precepts, all of this demonic power had been transformed by the breathing technique, ensuring it was not directly suppressed by the holy attribute of the Holy Fire.
Consequently, this punch slightly exceeded the old priest''s expectations, breaking through the protective barrier of the Holy Fire.
Watching the fist close in and the flames that threatened to engulf him in the next second, the old priest remained entirely unfazed.
A sudden force hoisted his body backwards, yanking him into a rapid retreat that suspended him in midair.
A dense array of golden threads swirled around him, pulling and guiding his body, making him appear like a descending saint stepping into the kingdom of heaven.
"What a pity. Evil is always one step behind me... Ah!" Before the old priest could even finish his sentence, a sudden wave of excruciating pain washed over him.
In that split second, although the punch had not truly connected, Krog had transferred the sensation of agony that Downs had just endured straight outward.
The phantom pain bridged the distance and struck the old priest, albeit with significantly dampened intensity.
However, his decrepit body trembled violently from the intense agony. He opened his mouth to gasp desperately for air, but barely any oxygen filled his lungs.
The old priest twitched his fingers, driving several wisps of golden threads directly into his chest. Only then did he rapidly stabilize his breathing.
Before the old priest could even recover, a massive dark shadow had already loomed over him. The four-meter-tall Purr leaped up, using his bone fins to manipulate and reduce his own body weight, allowing him to soar high into the air in an instant.
As the massive fist plummeted, the old priest''s body was yanked away by the silken threads once again, utilizing the same method to abruptly shift his position and evade the devastating blow.
"There are also feather sky serpents..." The old priest managed to sense the surrounding ripples of invisible entities a step ahead of time.
It turned out that the feather sky serpents controlled by Opper had already slithered into ambush positions nearby.
The old priest swiftly altered his position.
''Something is wrong!'' the old priest realized the moment he began to move.
''My position is flawed.''
''The massive amount of seawater has disrupted my control over the illusions.''
''In this illusory space where visual perception is slightly misaligned, the actual distances and coordinates harbor subtle discrepancies.''
''And because of my massive energy expenditure as the spellcaster, my precise control over orientation has slipped.''
As the old priest''s mental power surged and his supernatural perception expanded, he caught the distinct sound of something bursting out of the water.
''Nels?!'' The old priest immediately understood what was happening.
Whether it was Downs''s assault, Purr''s strike, or the feather sky serpents, they were all working in seamless coordination, corralling him directly toward Nemus''s location.
Nemus, restricted to a mere ten-step displacement by the precept spell, had just dodged "Jacques" with a single swing of his sword.
Secret Sword: Underworld Crow Crossing!
Nemus materialized right beside the old priest as if he had teleported, the blade concealed behind his arm striking out in a flash.
He thrust his sword upward in a vicious arc, looking as though he intended to cleanly cleave the old priest in half.
"An exquisite tactic," the old priest remarked as his body rippled for a fleeting instant.
In that very moment, Nemus''s blade seemed to phase right through his body, inflicting absolutely no damage.
"Unfortunately, a viable tactic does not equate to sufficient power."
"That sliver of unexpected pain from earlier was, in truth, your final opportunity to ever harm me."
Yanked away by the golden threads, the old priest''s body drifted far into the distance.
''Did reality and illusion just swap places?'' Nemus frowned, finally understanding why Isabella''s attempt at mutual destruction had ultimately failed.
Isabella''s massive eruption of Holy Fire had incinerated the Oath Rope he had left behind in the cathedral, preventing him from witnessing the final outcome.
''But how could a decrepit Iron Rank priest possibly cast such a spell?''
Powers involving reality-illusion transformation required someone at the Golden Rank to perform at the absolute minimum. Furthermore, even if the old priest could somehow exhaust everything to cast it once, how on earth was he capable of using it a second time?
This was absolutely abnormal.
Nemus rapidly processed the situation. He had already spent six of his allocated steps executing his secret sword technique, leaving him with only four steps remaining for the duration.
If he could not uncover the secret behind the old priest''s reality-illusion transformation, finding another opening to strike would only result in failure. He would merely be squandering his own strength in vain.
''His final lesson to Isabella was about the essence of spells.'' Nemus had only managed to overhear that one sentence.
Nemus had a rough hypothesis about this. While he was not considered a spellcaster himself, he still possessed some rudimentary understanding of their ways.
''A spellcaster requires a long period of preparation and ample spellcasting materials to unleash magic that far exceeds their own rank.''
''So, did the old priest prepare some special spellcasting materials?'' When Nemus led his forces here, he had already seen that the cathedral had collapsed.
The cathedral was where the old priest spent the vast majority of his time. With the cathedral destroyed, where else could he have possibly made his spellcasting preparations?
Nemus''s gaze naturally drifted toward the village.