Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End
chapter-545-30041322

At the highest point of the dark sky, the Wingman Sovereign stared in utter disbelief as Grandar’s massive fist flew in its direction.

It should have been impossible for anyone to withstand its ability to seal mana. Even those from the legendary races had a cap to their mana capacity, which was evident from the many fights it had won against the giants and the dragons.

The stronger the enemy was, the faster they fell.

The Wingman Sovereign was certain that Roel had already run out of mana by the time he appeared before it. It knew that the latter’s sudden mana surge must have been the result of his self-harm, but it no longer had the luxury of time to figure out the connection between the two.

…

Roel’s face momentarily scrunched from the pain of having stabbed his own chest, but his golden eyes and wings soon glowed brilliantly as his mana flared stronger than ever.

Being Toward Death.

This was the blessing Roel had received from Goddess Sia, and it had become his greatest trump card since then. It allowed him to circumvent the Wingman Sovereign’s domain as the mana was channeled through the blessing rather than his surroundings.

“Grandar!”

In this decisive moment, Roel shouted for his companion.

The Giant Sovereign’s fist surged forth like an unstoppable calamity. To those watching from the ground, his punch resembled a shooting star that appeared only for the briefest instant before it smashed into the Wingman Sovereign.

The frightful Wingman Sovereign raised its hand in a fluster to construct a barrier out of wind and lightning, but it didn’t stand a chance against the absolute might of the Giant Sovereign and was instantaneously shattered. The punch landed squarely on its target.

Bam!

A dull thud reverberated in the sky, followed by crisp cracking sounds.

With a brilliant flash of light, the Wingman Sovereign’s head was blown into bits, and its decrepit body started to disintegrate. The huge reserve of mana that was previously contained within its body ran amok, culminating in another huge explosion that generated massive shockwaves that shook the surroundings.

These shockwaves jolted Roel back, while propelling the Wingman Sovereign’s disintegrating body even higher up.

Roel watched the scattered remains of his enemy while gasping for air. His back had become completely wet at some point in time. Ascendwing was still deeply lodged inside his chest.

To ensure that he had sufficient mana to bring down the Wingman Sovereign, he hadn’t held back when he stabbed himself earlier. It was truly ironic how the only way for him to survive was to push himself to the brink of death.

The blood sputtering from his wound colored his face red. To make things worse, he couldn’t count on Grandar’s undead reanimation, as he had used a holy weapon here. It was a relief that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain, given how things had worked out well.

Mana started surging back into the surroundings following the Wingman Sovereign’s demise. Roel quickly absorbed the surrounding mana to replenish his severe depletion. Seconds later, he gritted his teeth and pulled out the short sword in one swift motion. He quickly clutched his injury with his hand while channeling Peytra’s dark yellow mana to heal it.

While he was making his recovery, he slowly descended to the ground.

Those on the ground were still struggling to make sense of what was happening.

It was only after staring in the sky for a long while that Alicia breathed a huge sigh of relief and fearfully patted her chest. Kayde cheered in delight as it shot out even more vines to hold down the Three-legged Dracocrow. The soldiers joyfully relayed the news about their proxy fief lord’s victory, and that brought about a huge boost in morale.

Yet, Roel didn’t look delighted at all.

He maintained a vigilant expression despite having just defeated a powerful enemy, for he knew that there were three enemies rather than two. He looked at the remaining black-cloaked figure in the sky with glowing eyes.

It didn’t elude his notice that the black-cloaked figure remained unmoved throughout the earlier battle, opting to quietly watch the commotion.

He had been too busy running away from the Wingman Sovereign to probe the black-cloaked figure, but two possibilities came to his mind for why the black-cloaked figure was able to remain idle when both the Three-legged Dracocrow and the Wingman Sovereign had made their moves.

One: the black-cloaked figure was an even higher existence than the Wingman Sovereign and the Three-legged Dracocrow.

Two: the black-cloaked figure could be support personnel, perhaps a healer.

Roel had decimated his opponent in a single strike in case of the second possibility. The Wingman Sovereign’s head had been burned to ashes following its explosion, and its body had scattered all over the place. It was unthinkable that anyone would be able to revive it anymore.

The black-cloaked figure should have reacted to this situation, whether it was a futile attempt to revive the Wingman Sovereign or to flee in fear. Yet, it did nothing of the sort. Could this mean that it was a higher god than the Wingman Sovereign back in the ancient era?

With such a doubt lingering in his mind, Roel focused his attention on the black-cloaked figure. Under his intense stare, the enemy in the sky finally made a move. It raised its hand to its hood and lowered it.

Beneath the hood was a man whose features were obscured by a mysterious dark fog. Sinister blood-red light reminiscent of fog lamps shone from where his eyes were.

…

Roel’s golden eyes narrowed at the revelation of the enemy’s appearance. An ominous feeling loomed in his heart.

Being a history buff, he had extensive knowledge about the races that had once existed on the Sia Continent, but never had he heard of a race who was shrouded in a mysterious black fog and had such bizarre eyes. It looked like a monster cloaked in human skin.

Being unable to identify his enemy’s background further heightened his wariness.

He expanded his senses to gather more information about the other party, but moments later, his eyes widened in shock.

“What? No mana pulsation?” Roel murmured with a perplexed frown.

He was confident that the black-cloaked figure wasn’t just an illusion, but for some reason, his mana sensor was telling him that there was nothing there. This should have been impossible, for transcendents harnessed condensed mana pools within them that felt vastly different to the mana in the surroundings.

Only ordinary mortals could bypass mana detection, but it went without saying that an ordinary mortal couldn’t be floating in mid-air.

Knowing that there was something off about his opponent, Roel chose to retreat for the time being, though he kept his eyes fixed on the black-cloaked figure in the sky.

Meanwhile, the black-cloaked figure made his move. He raised his palm and summoned a mysterious light in the aerial space where Roel and the Wingman Sovereign had fought earlier.

Roel was alarmed. His first thought was that the black-cloaked figure was casting a recovery spell, so he gathered his mana to disrupt the latter’s spell.

Although he had defeated the Wingman Sovereign, he knew that he had only managed to claim victory by catching his enemy by surprise. Should the other party receive an opportunity to do it over, there was no way it would grant him any chance at all.

That would have pushed him back into the abyss of danger.

Roel’s mana billowed as he readied his frost aura to curb the enemy.

But what happened next left him confused. The Wingman Sovereign did manifest from the mysterious light, but it wasn’t, in the truest sense, brought back to life. Its body was transparent as if it was just a mere projection, indicating that there was something else at work.

Yet, the moment the projection appeared, both Peytra’s and Grandar’s windows shook intensely.

“That is…”

“It’s a spiriteer! Run, Roel!!!” Peytra anxiously shouted.

“What?”

Before Roel could process the situation, the Wingman Sovereign’s projection had already made its move. Moving at the same unbelievable speed as before, it instantaneously arrived in front of Roel and swiped its claw at him.

Roel hurriedly formed a barrier out of his frost aura to protect himself.

Yet, the outcome was beyond his imagination.

The claw from the Wingman Sovereign’s projection passed through his barrier without any resistance to strike his body squarely. The attack induced an inexplicable feeling of weakness within him, prompting him to narrow his eyes in astonishment.

I can’t stop his attack?

Realizing that his defense was ineffective, Roel released a burst of mana to bolt away. At the same time, Peytra’s and Grandar’s avatars manifested to further boost his speed.

“What the hell is that?!”

Roel keenly noticed that his two ancient gods were completely focused on helping him flee instead of attempting any counterattack, which further stoked his vigilance.

“That is the Wingman Sovereign’s soul. That black-cloaked figure is a spiriteer. I never thought that that clan is still around.”

“Leave. Your attacks won’t work on him.”

Upon hearing those words, Roel was suddenly reminded about the legends he had heard from Ancient Treant Kayde. The latter had mentioned the spiriteers in one of their conversations, describing them as one of the most mysterious clans in the ancient era.

Unlike other races, the spiriteers didn’t possess a physical body, and existed in the form of a soul. Given the nature of their existence, neither Roel nor his two ancient gods possessed the means to harm them.

It was for the same reason that the giants had defeated the Savior back in the ancient era but were helpless to do anything against His soul.

Roel’s face turned grim. He had been through many predicaments, but this was the first time he was completely helpless against an enemy. It was only now that he finally understood why the Collector was so confident of taking him down with this line-up.

The Wingman Sovereign was indeed a formidable opponent—Roel would have likely lost to it if he hadn’t caught the enemy off-guard through Being Toward Death—but it wasn’t the Fallens’ trump card against him. Their true trump card was actually the deceased Wingman Sovereign.

Through the spiriteer, they were able to temporarily retain the soul of the deceased Wingman Sovereign in the living world. As if it wasn’t enough that this soul retained its physical prowess, there was no way to retaliate or defend against its attacks at all.

What other choice did Roel have than to run?

Just the earlier claw swipe had already left his body with a lingering feeling of frailty. He had no idea how many more such attacks he could suffer, but it instinctively occurred to him that his soul might wither if this went on.

What can I do here?

Roel surged across the vast sky like a shooting star, but this was insufficient for him to shake off the Wingman Sovereign’s soul. If anything, the latter was swiftly gaining on him.

Desperate, he tried tapping into the power of his Crown’s Stones to slow the enemy down, but the Wingman Sovereign’s soul passed right through the frost aura and the dusk-yellow wind. Just as he was about to give up, the enemy suddenly flew into a black fog and slowed down right away.

“!”

Roel was initially startled, but realization soon struck him. Flooding Death’s curses were the physical manifestation of death, which allowed it to faze souls. It was just a pity that he hadn’t properly developed its powers yet. While the black fog had the power to harm the Wingman Sovereign’s soul, the damage was dealt extremely slowly.

The chase in the sky continued.

Even with the slowdown effect from the black clouds of curses, Roel still ended up receiving two swipes from the Wingman Sovereign’s soul. At the same time, the Wingman Sovereign’s soul started to turn translucent.

This won’t do. At this rate, I’ll be the first one to cave in!

After a few exchanges, Roel could feel the frailty extending to his fists. His two ancient gods were also much more panicked than usual. Grandar and Peytra unleashed their powers to destroy everything in the vicinity in hopes of finding a cover for him, but its effectiveness was minuscule.

In this desperate situation, Roel turned his gaze toward the depraved spiriteer floating in the sky, as he considered putting his life on the line to bring the enemy down.

But before he could make a move, the window inside of him that had been silent all this while suddenly clicked and reverted to normal. A second later, Artasia manifested beside Roel.

“Artasia! You’re finally…”

“Why are you still here? Didn’t I tell you to run? No, it’s already too late now…”

“What?”

Roel was taken aback by Artasia’s words. He was finally reunited with the Witch Queen after such a long time, but the latter looked terribly anxious. She looked at the eastern horizon with a despairing look on her face.

“It is here.”