Chapter 453: The Old-Fashioned Way
Isolde’s blood hardened, the crimson liquid crystallizing into a dense, multi-layered shield that pulsed with defensive energy. She planted her feet, bracing herself against the coming onslaught.
"He’s coming."
The words had barely left her lips when the air itself seemed to split.
Deiora shot forward, his massive form a blur of crimson and gold. The wind howled in his wake, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he closed the distance in the space between heartbeats. His fist, wreathed in that blazing aura, drove forward with the force of a falling star.
The blow struck Isolde’s shield.
CRACK!
The impact was immense. Shockwaves rippled outward, sending soldiers and debris scattering in all directions. The shield buckled, fissures spider-webbing across its surface like cracks in a frozen lake.
Isolde gritted her teeth, pouring more blood into the barrier, reinforcing it with layer after layer of hardened crimson. But Deiora’s fist pressed forward, the golden veins along his arm pulsing with raw, unyielding power.
The shield shattered.
Crimson fragments exploded outward, and the shockwave swept through the clearing, clearing the space around them. Soldiers on both sides were thrown back, their bodies tumbling across the blood-soaked earth.
Deiora straightened, lowering his fist. A slow, satisfied grin spread across his face.
"My punches cannot be stopped."
He lunged forward again, his fist already cocked back for another devastating strike.
Isolde’s blood surged to meet him, forming a dense wall of crimson, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he broke through again.
"Lilith! I can’t hold him for long!"
Lilith’s threads snapped forward, weaving around Deiora’s limbs, slowing his advance. But even as they wrapped around him, she could feel the threads straining, the silk beginning to fray under the pressure of his aura.
Deiora’s grin widened as he flexed his arms, the golden veins along his muscles pulsing with raw power. His voice boomed across the clearing, carrying the weight of absolute certainty.
"Futile effort. I’ll crush it all with my fists."
Deiora’s fist drove forward a second time, the impact ripping through Lilith’s crumbling threads and Isolde’s blood shield in a single, devastating blow.
The shockwave hurled both women backward.
Isolde twisted mid-air, her blood surging beneath her to form a crimson cushion that halted her momentum. She landed in a crouch, her eyes blazing, already gathering more blood to her palms.
Lilith’s threads snapped out, anchoring to jagged rocks and tree roots, pulling her to a halt just before she could crash into a boulder. She planted her feet, her gaze fixed on Deiora’s advancing form.
"He’s stronger than I expected."
Her threads propelled her forward, and Soulreaver reformed in her grip as she closed the distance in a blur of motion. Her blade carved a blazing arc toward Deiora’s chest.
Deiora’s hand shot up.
He caught the blade.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the clearing, dust and debris exploding outward from the point of contact.
Deiora’s grin widened. "Not bad."
Lilith’s smile sharpened. "I wasn’t finished."
She twisted, and the blade dissolved into a dozen fragments that shot past Deiora’s guard, slicing across his chest, his arms, his face. The cuts were shallow, barely more than scratches but they were enough to draw blood.
Deiora’s eyes widened. His hand shot to his cheek, fingers coming away slick with crimson. His voice dropped to a low, rumbling murmur.
"You cut me."
Lilith’s fragments reformed in the air around her, gleaming like a halo of black steel.
"Your body’s tough," she said. "But it’s not invincible."
Deiora’s wounds sealed almost instantly, the shallow cuts across his chest and face knitting together with a faint, sizzling hiss. The blood that had welled up evaporated into thin wisps of crimson steam, leaving behind unblemished skin.
His grin returned, wider than before.
"That’s the wrong thing to say. Because I am invincible."
On the other side of the clearing, Franc stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the battle unfolding before him. The clash between Lilith, Isolde, and Deiora was beyond anything he had ever witnessed—a battle between beings who existed on a level far above mortal soldiers.
"This is... this is a fight between monsters," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Reith took a step forward. His hand moved to his sword hilt, his gaze fixed on Seraphina’s crumpled form lying in the blood-soaked dirt.
Bianca’s hand shot out, grabbing his sleeve, her voice sharp with alarm.
"Reith! What are you doing?"
"I’m going to save the commander. We can’t just stand here and do nothing."
Franc’s hand shot out, grabbing Reith’s shoulder, his voice tight with warning.
"That’s suicide, Reith. Look at them. Look at the demons. If we charge in, we’ll be cut down before we can even reach her."
Reith spun, grabbing Franc by the collar and yanking him close.
"Then what do you want me to do?! Stand here and watch her bleed out?! I thought you were a man of action. I admired you for it, but now you’re just standing there, doing nothing!"
Franc’s grip on Reith’s collar tightened for a moment, then he released it with a sudden, forceful yank. His voice was cold, edged with frustration.
"Then go. I won’t stop you. But know this, Commander entrusted me with guiding you all. If you break that trust, you’re not just disobeying me. You’re betraying her orders."
"Say what you want," Reith replied, already turning away. "I won’t abandon a wounded comrade."
He didn’t look back.
He broke into a sprint, his boots pounding against the earth as he closed the distance toward Seraphina’s crumpled form.
Celine, still standing near the edge of the battlefield, noticed the movement. Her lips curled into a cold, amused smile as she reached down and grabbed a handful of Seraphina’s hair, lifting her limp head slightly.
"Ah. It seems one of your loyal dogs is coming to save you, Seraphina. How touching."
Reith’s blade was already drawn, his voice a snarl of fury.
"Get your filthy hands off her!"
He lunged forward and a shockwave of concussive force slammed into him from the side.
The sheer force of the impact had sent a ripple of destruction through the clearing. The shockwave caught Reith mid-stride, hurling him sideways like a ragdoll. He crashed into a rocky outcropping, the impact cracking the stone, and crumpled to the ground, gasping.
"REITH!" Franc’s voice cracked with panic.
Deiora’s gaze shifted from Lilith’s retreating form to the crumpled figure of Reith, who was struggling to push himself up from the shattered rock.
"Oh? It seems someone fell over here."
He began walking toward Reith.
Reith’s body tensed as the weight of Deiora’s aura pressed down on him like a physical force. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, his vision swimming as he fought to push himself upright.
’What... what kind of aura is this...? It’s like the air itself is crushing me...’
Lilith’s eyes flicked toward Reith, then back to Deiora’s advancing form.
"Isolde. We should retreat while he’s distracted. I don’t want Adam caught in the crossfire."
"We can’t. Moving Adam now could destabilize his condition. He’s still unconscious." Her voice sharpened, edged with frustration. "If you hadn’t started this fight, we wouldn’t be in this situation." Isolde said as her blood began to form several blades.
"Don’t blame me for everything, Isolde. We need to find his weakness. You know him right? Is there anything we can exploit?"
Isolde’s gaze remained fixed on Deiora’s massive form.
"His Demonic Vajra Body is overwhelming, but it has a limit. When the aura fades, his body will be taxed and become vulnerable." She paused, her voice dropping. "But that was centuries ago. He may have overcome that weakness by now."
Lilith’s eyes narrowed.
"So that’s useless, then."
Isolde shot her a sharp look. "What do you mean, useless? Do you know his weakness?"
Lilith’s smile sharpened as she looked at Deiora’s body.
"Can you control blood that’s already inside someone else’s body, Isolde?"
Isolde shook her head slowly, her eyes fixed on Deiora’s towering form.
"No. His aura is too dense, it acts as a barrier. My blood would be repelled before it could even penetrate his defenses. I’d have no control over it once it’s inside him."
Lilith understood Isolde’s words and began to pull at her threads and the fragments of her Soulreaver.
"So even his blood is protected by that aura. Hmm... then we’ll just have to use the old-fashioned way."
Isolde’s blood sword floated behind her, ready to strike.
"Yes. We beat him until he dies."
Meanwhile.....
Reith’s breath came in ragged, shallow gasps as Deiora’s massive form loomed over him. The weight of the demon’s aura pressed down on his chest like a mountain, each inhale a battle, each exhale a surrender.
Deiora’s voice rumbled down like distant thunder, laced with cruel amusement.
"Are you lost, little human?"
Reith’s hands clawed at the earth, his muscles screaming as he fought to push himself upright. His voice came out in a strained, desperate rasp.
"Damn it... move... move, you useless body..."
Deiora tilted his head, watching the human’s feeble struggle with the detached interest of a cat observing a wounded mouse. A low, rumbling chuckle escaped his throat.
"Haha... such a familiar sight. I’ve missed watching humans tremble."
"Rest assured, Lord Deiora. When you kill these humans, it will spark the war you’ve been craving. I can promise you that." Celine said.
Deiora’s gaze shifted to her, a flicker of interest passing through his cold eyes.
"Is that so? I don’t sense anything particularly important about them."
Celine’s smile sharpened.
"They are the ones who will obstruct our plans, my lord. We must eliminate them before they become a problem."
Deiora let out a low, dismissive hum, his attention returning to the trembling human at his feet.
"Oh, I see. Then I’ll just kill him quickly."
His fist drew back, the golden veins along his arm pulsing with raw, destructive power. Reith’s eyes widened, his body frozen, his mind screaming at him to move but his limbs refused to obey.
Then, Franc’s blade slammed into Deiora’s fist, the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the clearing. The force of the collision jarred Franc’s arms, his boots scraping against the earth as he fought to hold his ground.
Behind him, Bianca’s hands wove through the air, a shimmering barrier of golden light wrapping around Franc’s blade, reinforcing it, absorbing the brunt of the demon’s strength.
Franc’s teeth clenched, his muscles burning from the effort. His voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding, his eyes fixed on Reith’s stunned face.
"Don’t just stand there! RUN!"
Reith’s body jerked into motion, his legs pumping as he scrambled away from Deiora’s reach. His breath was still ragged, his heart still pounding, but he was moving.
Franc stood his ground, his blade still locked against Deiora’s fist, his eyes fixed on the massive demon before him. His voice was low, steady.
"I’ll hold him off. Just get the commander and go."