Chapter 389: I Told You I Wouldn't Let You Die (Part 3)

  "Bastard!" Moriel's roar was earth-shattering. Her figure suddenly shot up, but she wasn't charging towards Ethan; instead, she flew to meet the falling sword body of The Black Star.

  Behind the sword body was endless darkness. Wherever it passed, be it the sky, the earth, or anything else, everything was submerged by this darkness, as if the light and all things of this world were but a false, superficial illusion. This bolt of black lightning tore apart this shallow disguise, returning the world to a nothingness of black.

  With a spurt, the fresh blood, which had been flowing like a stream, now sprayed out from Moriel's wounds like a waterfall. Along with this waterfall of blue blood, countless magical energies also gushed out of her body. Mixing with the blood, it condensed into a massive orb of destruction before Moriel. She, along with this orb of destruction, blocked the path of The Black Star's sword body.

  The black lightning that tore the world suddenly stopped. The tip of the sword came to a halt as it plunged into the orb of destruction, which was mixed with countless blue blood. It did not tear through it and Moriel along with it.

  "Now, while we have the chance, go and finish that kid." Moriel's roar was no longer like it was just moments before. Although still deafening, it could not hide a dry exhaustion. The flow of blue blood had lessened; it wasn't that the bleeding had stopped, but that she was nearly drained. The crystal muscles had lost their dazzling blue, becoming pieces of white crystal that fell away, revealing not the Black Dragon's original skin, but bone. She had truly surpassed her limits, now using her own life force to block the sword body.

  Her body was too badly damaged, and she could no longer use the spatial magic of instantaneous travel. Ethan was too far away, and the sword body was falling too fast. She had no time to deal with Ethan. The only thing she could do was temporarily stop the sword body.

  Her magical power was nearly exhausted. She had used almost all of her life force to unleash this orb of destruction. Only the pure, chaotic magical energy within the orb of destruction could temporarily hold off The Black Star.

  The sword body had not stopped completely, but was moving forward, very slowly and with great difficulty, within this orb of chaotic energy. Moriel could feel that the chaotic energy within the orb of destruction, along with her own life force, was being rapidly worn away and annihilated by the black aura. She wanted to turn her head to see the situation behind her, to roar another urgent reminder, but unfortunately, she didn't even have that little bit of strength left.

  In truth, there was no need for her to urge them. For whatever reason, everyone was sprinting towards Ethan.

  His steps were still that same empty one after another. His expression and gaze were still a stretch of emptiness, but this Lich King no longer had the same air of looking down on all things in the world. At least he now looked very wretched, wretched to a terrifying degree.

  The Robe of the Lich Lord was completely gone. It had already been torn open by Moriel's pulling, and then under the primal, chaotic energy of the orb of destruction, even such a treasure left no trace behind. And Ethan himself, if he had previously looked like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering, he now looked like a doll that had already shattered. The cracks on his body had doubled in number, and had also deepened and widened by a fold. It seemed as if he was holding his broken body together with sheer force; otherwise, he could fall apart into a pile of fragments at any moment.

  But none of that was the most important thing. The most important thing was the hilt he held in his hand, the hilt of The Black Star. The thick, black fog that had swirled around it was gone. It now looked no different from an ordinary piece of obsidian. A web of cracks covered the hilt. The feeling of emptiness, so uncomfortable to even glance at, had faded to almost nothing.

  The hilt was damaged. It was damaged!

  The damage was severe. It looked just like Ethan, as if it were only one step away from shattering. And as long as either of them was truly shattered, they would win. Everything would be over.

  An astonishing light burst from Roland's and Lancelot's eyes, like a person who had been fleeing in panic through a dark, endless abyss for a night finally seeing the light of the sun. Roland was the closest person to Ethan. Although he no longer had a weapon, and blood was still soaking from the place where his arm had been severed, he did not hesitate for a moment. He threw his entire body towards Ethan.

  His fingers were together, sharp like a sword's edge. Sword energy, sword intent, was poured into his only remaining left hand as he flew to stab. This strike, with his hand temporarily substituting for a sword, could naturally not compare to his previous sword energy, but the will to win, the determination in this strike, was even stronger than in his previous full-power strike. This sword was also sharper, more acute, and faster.

  But this sword did not strike Ethan's body. He swayed to one side, and Roland's palm-sword only grazed past his chest. Then, the blade in his right hand, like a phantom, silently and without a trace, chopped down on Roland's chest.

  With a crack, Roland spat out a mouthful of blood and flew backward more than ten meters. But after he landed, the light in his eyes did not diminish in the slightest; on the contrary, it became even brighter, even more scorching.

  It was still that ghost-like evasion and attack, traceless. His attack, which could almost be considered the pinnacle of swordsmanship, was completely ineffective, and he was repelled. It was still that sudden emptiness that caused the surrounding flesh to automatically shatter, but he had only broken four ribs. Only four ribs. The Lich King's strike could only break four of his ribs.

  And he could feel it very clearly. When his palm had grazed his chest, he felt a sense of cracking. That dodge had not been a complete evasion. Now, he could see a very long crack appear on Ethan's chest.

  This was no longer that terrifying, invincible Lich King. He could be sure of it. He, Lancelot, and Gru—their next combined attack would surely shatter him. It might not even take the three of them; two would be enough. Gru's original position was near Moriel, a bit farther from here. Lancelot had already begun to charge. A white sword light was already glinting around his body.

  Ethan also knew this. His empty eyes could clearly see all the factors of every object, large and small. Reflected in his consciousness, which was without joy or sorrow, a stretch of empty silence, were all the trajectories of this world. Because it was empty, everything could be seen in the finest detail.

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  Although this ability had weakened along with his body and the hilt of The Black Star, he could still judge clearly: he only needed 1.57 seconds. The combined strike of Lancelot and Roland would arrive before him. This was their third joint attack. The coordination and synchronization between them were controlled to within seven-thousandths of a second. With the power currently in the shattered hilt, he could only break their combination, but not dissolve their attack. Even with the most efficient evasion, they would still be able to hack off a good portion of his body.

  In the sky, the sword body of The Black Star had almost completely plunged into Moriel's orb of destruction. The orb of destruction and Moriel herself were trembling. The most powerful magic and the most powerful living creature were still so insignificant before The Black Star, seemingly about to be torn apart and annihilated into the darkness behind it. But Ethan knew that it would not be immediate. It would take another 3.031 seconds for the sword body to break through the orb of destruction and Moriel, and fly here to rejoin with the hilt.

  But after he suffered the strike from Lancelot and Roland, he would have no ability to resist or dodge. The remaining 1.74 seconds would be enough for the two of them to tear him to pieces twenty times over.

  Although he knew it would be such a result, Ethan's expression, his steps, his state of mind did not have the slightest fluctuation. It was still an endless emptiness, a void.

  Nothing mattered. In his empty consciousness, the concepts of success and failure, of gain and loss, had long since disappeared. No joy, no sorrow, no pleasure, no pain. Only the will that came from The Black Star urged him forward. Like a precision machine set with a destination. No matter the result, he would walk on, walk on...

  His gaze and attention swept over to Gru. He was the farthest away. It would take him another 3.15 seconds to get here. He could be ignored. Then there were the two people in the same direction as Lancelot. They would need two seconds. They were two very weak people. Two women. Two people he knew. Talise and Sophia.

  Those two? Suddenly, something in that boundless, empty consciousness seemed to stir.

  In truth, he had noticed those two people much earlier, but reflected in his vast, empty consciousness, they were nothing more than two insignificant factors, with no combat power to speak of, and were directly ignored. But seeing them again now, the much-diminished consciousness of emptiness could no longer reflect them as mere factors.

  Once this stirring began, it could not be stopped. It was no longer just about the two of them. More things began to stir from somewhere in his consciousness, as if about to burst out. It was as if something had been buried deep behind this endless emptiness, and now a certain thread of thought had triggered its most sensitive point, and everything was stimulated, everything was stirring, swelling after the emptiness. His consciousness was actually unable to skip over them, to ignore them.

  Although their steps were slow and their combat power was weak compared to Lancelot and the others, they were still running towards here with all their might, their faces, covered in blood and filth, stained with tears. Ethan could see the wounds on their bodies very clearly. He saw that they were the result of countless desperate, life-and-death battles. At least ten times, they had almost lost their lives. And they should not have been here in the first place. He remembered...

  As more and more memories and information surged forth, the stirring from behind grew stronger and more irresistible, but he, paradoxically, could not stop himself from thinking.

  These were indeed two insignificant factors. With their current combat power, they could not possibly play any role. Even if they rushed here, it would only take 0.31 seconds to cut them in half... He could easily kill them... Kill them... The empty consciousness desperately tried to transform this stirring into that empty rationality, but these threads of thought seemed to only pull more and more at the stirring behind the emptiness.

  Crack. A sound of cracking came from his empty consciousness. The stirring from behind had actually pried open a crack in this emptiness. It was just a small crack, but what rushed out from it was so powerful that it directly crossed the consciousness of the void and shot out of his body.

  "You two, don't come any closer." Ethan shouted at them.

  Everyone who heard this voice was stunned. This was no longer the completely empty voice. A taste of anxiety and fear was entangled in the originally hollow sound. This was not a tone a Lich King should have. It was not something that the Lich King, whose emptiness was so parallel to this world, could have shouted.

  Talise and Sophia were first stunned, then their expressions turned to wild joy. They, who were already running with all their might, actually managed to run even faster. Talise shouted towards Lancelot, who had already begun his sword strike, "Master, he's awake!"

  But the Holy Light Cross that Lancelot had just condensed did not dissipate. On the contrary, it became even sharper, even more determined, even more of an all-or-nothing bet. Roland was the same. This was their third, and perhaps their final, joint attack.

  Of course, they had heard it. The strangeness in Ethan's voice, and Talise's cry, they had heard it all. But to them, this did not represent an opportunity to save Ethan, but rather a better opportunity to kill him.

  Unlike the thinking of women, whose concern leads to confusion, their judgment was absolutely without emotion, absolutely the most efficient and decisive. If Ethan had truly woken up, the first thing he would do would not be to shout, but to let go of the hilt of The Black Star in his hand. Moreover, what they heard from Ethan's voice was not just emotion, but more chaos. This should be a loss of control caused by the continuous attacks.

  In the sky behind them, Moriel's aura was growing weaker and weaker. They would not take the risk to see if there was a chance to make Ethan come to his senses. Even if there was a ninety-nine percent chance, they could not try it. Now, this could only be seen as the best opportunity to destroy him, to destroy The Black Star, in a single strike.

  The combined attack of their sword energies was far less powerful than before, but it was more than enough for the current Lich King. They could see that dark red blood had already begun to gush from Ethan's body. It seemed that even without their attack, he was already beginning to collapse on his own.

  "Don't come any closer." Ethan kept muttering this one sentence. In his voice, in his eyes, there was no longer emptiness, only a gathered chaos.

  The stretch of empty consciousness had cracked. It was as if something inside his body had also cracked. The cracks that covered his body had previously been without any sensation, but now he could vaguely feel pain. This pain, which covered his whole body and penetrated his heart, felt like a long-lost, exhilarating feeling, a feeling of life. Along with this feeling came the aura from the hilt in his left hand. It should have long been integrated with his life and consciousness, inseparable. It should have been an aura that he could not feel.

  Being able to feel it meant that they had already separated. This aura was now echoing with the void in his consciousness, which already showed signs of cracking, striving to restore it to that silent emptiness, fused with his life. But the dark tide behind the emptiness would not yield. With a single crack, it struggled to surge out, to fill this emptiness. Two completely opposite forces were pulling at each other, both trying to unify this consciousness, this body, but the result was that Ethan's consciousness and body began to fall apart at the same time.

  The final, combined attack from Lancelot and Roland had arrived. But Ethan no longer had a chance to dodge, parry, or block. The sea of consciousness, which could originally reflect anything, was now being torn apart by the countless forces rushing out from the crack.

  Their sword energy and sword intent were condensed at a single point. Like a needle, it could not shake the heavens and the earth, but it could create a world. It was not aimed at the hilt of The Black Star in Ethan's hand, but at Ethan's chest. Although neither of them moved, because they were not yet certain they could shatter The Black Star, even though it was already battered and broken. At least, they did not have a one hundred percent chance of shattering it, but they did have a one hundred percent chance of shattering Ethan.

  "Stop!" Three voices rang out at the same time.

  "Stop, wait!" The immense, majestic roar came from Gru. He had already turned into a blur and was flying towards here, but it was too late. He was too far away, and he himself was not lightly injured. His roar could shake anyone's spirit, but it was useless against the current Lancelot and Roland. Their spiritual will, like their sword energy, had already condensed into a needle.

  "Stop!" Sophia also cried out. Her shout was even less likely to have any effect; Gru's angry roar almost drowned out her voice. Talise, who was screaming at the same time, could see that this combined sword strike could shatter Ethan into a sky full of fragments. Like Sophia, the deepest fear and strength in her heart made the scream burst directly from her throat. The difference was that she didn't just shout "Stop."

  "Stop, Dad."

  Similarly, her scream was almost inaudible amidst Gru's soul-shaking roar, but when this cry reached Lancelot's ears, it was ten times more effective than Gru's voice.

  Lancelot's figure suddenly faltered. The sword energy, which had been perfectly combined with Roland's, immediately scattered.

  It was not that he was dissuaded by these words. It was that this voice, along with this word, directly stabbed into a soft spot in his spirit that no one knew about, the only one he had. It caused the perfectly condensed will to suddenly loosen.

  He had thought he had already patched up this spot perfectly, that he would never be moved or confused by it again. But now he knew that, in the deepest part of his heart, beyond all reason, faith, and perseverance, it was still an irreparable soft spot, both for him and for Talise.

  Even though he knew this was absolutely not the time to loosen up, he forcibly drove everything from his mind and continued to force the sword energy forward to stab. But it was too late. Their combined attack had finally separated. Roland's palm struck Ethan a moment before his.

  Crack. The separated palm-sword, lacking the power of their combined attack, could not shatter Ethan entirely. It only shattered his shoulder. His left shoulder burst apart.

  A cry of agony burst from Ethan's mouth. Like the flesh and blood that exploded from his shoulder, it was no longer empty. It was so full of life.

  As he cried out, he also counterattacked. But he didn't use the hilt in his hand. He used his head. He headbutted Roland's face. Amidst the sound of cracking bones, Roland's face was completely mangled, and he flew backward.