Chapter 462: The Mountain
Celine’s gaze was fixed on the brutal clash unfolding before her, her severed wrist still dripping blood onto the cracked earth. Her voice came out low, strained, carrying the weight of grim recognition.
"Lord Deiora has awakened his Ancient Blood... I never thought I’d see the day."
She forced herself to look away, her eyes sweeping over the battlefield until they landed on the unconscious forms of the Melium soldiers. A cold resolve settled in her chest.
’If I can’t help Lord Deiora defeat that monster... at least I can complete my original mission.’
She began to move, her steps slow and careful as she approached the fallen soldiers. Her remaining hand curled around the hilt of her blade, and she drew it in one fluid motion, the steel gleaming with cold intent.
But before the blade could fall, a tendril of crimson blood wrapped around her wrist, halting the strike mid-swing.
Celine’s eyes widened. Her head snapped toward the source.
Isolde stood a few paces away, one hand extended, her blood still coiled around Celine’s wrist like ablood-red shackle. Her voice was cold, carrying an edge of quiet warning.
"I won’t let you."
Celine’s voice rose, sharp with disbelief and mounting fury.
"What is this?! They’re nothing to you! Why would you protect humans?!"
Isolde opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, a wave of searing heat swept across the battlefield.
A cascade of meteoric flame rained down from above, each impact carving deep craters into the earth. The air itself seemed to warp under the intensity of the heat, and Celine was forced to shield her eyes as the shockwave rippled outward.
Deiora’s voice boomed across the clearing, thick with wild, unrestrained power.
"BURN! BURN! BURN EVERYTHING!"
His massive form was wreathed in spiraling flames, his fists trailing arcs of molten fire as he launched himself at Adam. Each punch sent shockwaves of heat rippling through the air, and the ground beneath their feet began to melt and crack under the intensity.
Adam’s body moved, weaving through the blazing assault with fluid grace, his expression calm despite the inferno raging around him.
"You’re getting sloppy," Adam said. "All that power, and you still can’t land a hit."
"Who said I was trying to hit you?"
Adam’s eyes narrowed. He felt it a moment too late.
The ground beneath him exploded.
A pillar of molten fire erupted from the earth, catching Adam off guard and hurling him upward. He twisted in mid-air, his wings snapping open to catch himself, but the heat was intense enough to sear his scales, to make his vision swim.
Deiora’s voice rose from below, thick with triumph.
"Take that!"
Adam landed in a crouch, his wings folding against his back as he assessed the situation. His scales were smoking, blackened in places, and a faint tremor ran through his limbs.
Deiora shot forward again, his fist wreathed in spiraling flames aimed directly at Adam’s chest.
Adam’s body dissolved into shadows, and [Ghostwalk] carried him out of the strike’s path. He emerged behind Deiora, his hand already extended, the green light of his venom pulsing in his palm.
"Can you regenerate from poison?"
Deiora’s grin widened as the venomous green light pulsed in Adam’s palm. He flexed his massive fist, crimson and golden aura coiling around it like a living shroud.
"Of course," Deiora said, his voice low and mocking. "Your poison has already adapted to my body. I’m immune to it now."
He took a step forward, the flames around him intensifying, his grin sharp and cruel.
"Don’t believe me? Want to try again?"
Adam’s eyes narrowed, he studied Deiora’s form, the way the black tattoos pulsed with steady crimson light, the way his muscles moved with fluid confidence.
’He’s telling the truth,’ Adam thought. ’My venom won’t work on him anymore.’
Deiora’s grin widened, his aura flaring brighter.
"You’re starting to understand. I can adapt to anything. This is the true power of the Demonic Vajra Body."
Adam let out a low hum, his hand dropping to his side. The green light in his palm faded, replaced by something else—a faint, silver shimmer that pulsed with contained power.
"Then I’ll just have to use something else."
Deiora’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of wariness passing through them as he studied the shifting energy.
"What is that...?"
Adam’s lips curved into a cold smile.
"You’ll find out soon enough."
Adam drew a deep breath, his chest expanding as silver energy gathered around his form.
"[Progenitor’s Roar]."
The sound that erupted from his throat. The shockwave rippled outward in visible waves, distorting the air itself as it washed over the battlefield.
Deiora’s eyes went wide. His hands flew to his ears, but it was useless. The roar bypassed flesh and bone, clawing directly at his mind, his soul, his very sense of self.
"AAAGHHH—!"
His massive form staggered, his aura flickering wildly as the psychic pressure bore down on him. The flames around him guttered, the black tattoos along his torso dimming as his concentration shattered.
Adam closed the distance in an instant, his fist already cocked back, silver energy coiling around his knuckles.
"[Sovereign Impact]."
His fist connected with Deiora’s chest.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the clearing, the ground beneath them buckling and cracking under the force of the blow. Deiora’s body lifted off the ground, hurtling backward through the air before crashing into the ground.
"Still standing? Impressive."
Deiora pushed himself up slowly, his body trembling, his aura flickering, but his grin was still there. A thin line of blood trickled from his lip, but he didn’t seem to notice.
"Heh... I can adapt to anything you throw at me."
Adam began walking toward Deiora, his boots crunching against the scorched earth. His voice, when it came, was calm and cold.
"You can adapt, that’s your strength but there’s a difference between adapting and evolving." He stopped a few paces away, his gaze fixed on Deiora’s battered form. "You can adapt to poison and You can adapt to physical blows but can you adapt to death?"