Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End - Chapter 433.2

Frankly speaking, Bryan was intimidated by Roel’s changes, but he knew that he still stood a chance.

Roel’s body was still in a blurry state, a sign that he hadn’t fully recovered from the earlier blow yet. Even if he had regained control over his powers and advanced to Origin Level 3, it didn’t change the fact that he was in a severely weakened condition.

If Bryan wanted to get rid of Roel, now was the best chance for him to do so.

“How did you return? Your body should have long vanished. It shouldn’t have been possible for that person to fail,” asked Bryan as his eyes gleamed with murderous intent.

Gray miasma had started gathering around him once more.

On the other hand, Roel gave off an air of serenity, as if he had just been through a long journey.

“Your plan was perfect. I was in the worst possible state due to my battle with Nora, and that man in the shadows was able to interfere with my bloodline and Origin Attribute to seal my powers. But just as you’ve said, fate doesn’t necessarily proceed in the way we intend it to. It’s the case for me, so it is for you.

“I recall that you mentioned something along the line of a prophecy earlier. Bryan, fate might have guided you into this elaborate assassination attempt, but regretfully, I am not one to bow down to fate. If anything, I have been desperately fighting against it all this while. It’s during times of crises that my belief core shines brighter than ever.

“You have pointed out a way for me, allowing me to fully awaken my bloodline. You might have been able to stifle me for a moment, but there are countless others who light up the path for me. With their support, I’ll eventually achieve my goal.”

The ancestors who had provided Roel with guidance appeared one after another. Their bodies were faint and translucent, looking as if their souls were on the verge of dissipation.

In exchange, Roel’s aura was growing stronger by the moment. The three Witness States he had been through were fodder for his growth, seeping into his bloodline and becoming his strength.

Bryan’s complexion turned awful.

The medium that connected him with the Collector had already been destroyed, which meant that he was no longer able to summon him anymore. Their plan was completely foiled. However, the battle hadn’t been decided yet.

“Since he has failed, I’ll personally send you on your way.”

Bryan’s voice was heavily solemn.

A forbidding pulsation of mana rippled across the prairie, inducing the gray miasma to billow furiously and cover the sky. With no more reinforcement to fall back on, Bryan decided to reveal his true prowess.

The sheer might he possessed as an Origin Level 2 transcendent wielding divine powers was terrifying.

The ominous force he exerted raised shockwaves that forced Cynthia to raise her kite shield despite standing a far distance away. Wood, Rodney, and the other heretics quickly backed away as well. Hanks wrapped himself in a layer of holy light as he watched the situation with a frown.

The hair-raising sensation induced from the terrifying gray miasma was one thing, but its true nature as a mishmash of fragmented souls became visible to the crowd as well.

“Are those…!”

“H-human souls!”

Appalled shouts echoed from the surroundings, but Bryan paid little heed to it.

Utopia was the name of the evil god possessing his body, as well the secret behind his ability to defy death. Those who were killed by him would be assimilated to become part of his strength, and he hadn’t been wasting his time over the past two hundred years.

Bryan’s consciousness had, in a sense, fused together with that of the evil god. It would be foolish to solely evaluate him on the oversimplified concept of Origin Level.

Wails of the dead souls echoed as Bryan converged him into his grasp, forming a sword of boundless power. He was now in his strongest ever state.

On the other hand, Roel slowly raised his hand toward the collapsed bones around him. The truth was that his body was in a terrible shape, such that it would be no joke to say that he was standing before the gates of hell. He could hardly process the sorrowful wailing and billowing gray miasma around him. His body was still blurred, looking as if it would dissipate at a single touch.

Yet, he was also at his strongest ever state.

The first thing he had to do right now was to bring back his companion.

When he touched the white bones around him, the scenery before him changed. The night sky prairie turned into a sunset plain. Grandar’s humongous body was trembling ever so slightly. His eyes were slowly regaining its glow, as if he was awakening from a slumber.

Half of the ancient giant king’s body was already dyed in the golden aura. He was already on the verge of being assimilated by the Angel King’s mana.

“Looks like we don’t have much time left,” said Roel with a sigh. A smile soon returned to his face, and he asked his old pal, “Are you able to hold on?”

“I’m fine.”

It was a concise answer from the skeleton giant.

“Alright.”

Roel nodded in response, choosing not to say anything more. Those words were more than enough for them to understand each other’s will.

The surroundings reverted to normal the next moment, and the pale white bones began unleashing a brilliant crimson glow. It blazed as brightly as the sun, harnessing overflowing divine wrath and killing intent like never before.

The fragmented souls let out piercing shrieks of fear, and the evil god eyed its adversary in alarm. The skeleton giant rose to its feet amidst a layer of mist, revealing a towering stature that naturally intimidated those beneath it. The penetrating light in its eyes seemed to peer through all lies and facades.

This was the first time Roel was summoning Grandar after reaching Origin Level 3. With his humongous increase in mana, the ancient giant king was able to swiftly revert to its peak state.

However, Roel wasn’t satisfied with just this much. Enduring the pain that had seized his overused body, he channeled his mana with the determination to win the battle and activated his new ability, Being Toward Death.

At the same time, the sky started filling up with dark clouds. Thunder rumbled above everyone’s heads, sounding like the indignant screams of thousands. Bolts of crimson lightning started falling and scattering all around, bestowing power upon the warriors of justice.

Once cloaked in the crimson lightning, the heretics and the inquisitors lost their fear and regained their composure. Their mana, which was on the verge of drying out earlier, was replenished and amplified as well. Indescribable wrath bred in their hearts, prompting them to brandish their blades against the enemy.

“Impossible! How could you possibly have that spell?”

Bryan bellowed out in disbelief the moment he saw the crimson lightning filling the sky. It raked up the deepest dredges of his memories and brought a nostalgic face to mind.

That spell, Howl of Crimson Lightning, was an army buff spell that belonged to the man whom Felder Elric had pledged fealty to. It was the final miracle in their final battle together when warm blood still flowed in his veins, but it should have already vanished with that man’s death.

He never thought that the same spell would appear before his eyes centuries later. This unexpected sight shook his resolve, plunging him into hesitation.

On the other hand, Roel couldn’t help but recall the past, and his feelings culminated into a soft sigh.

“You!”

Bryan shouted out in agitation, but the intention behind his outburst was unclear.

In the end, he gave up on establishing any communication, knowing that it was meaningless at this point. He raised his sword high up and concentrated all of the gray miasma on its blade before hacking it down with a furious roar.

With tremendous mana and divine power tightly condensed on its blade, the sword was practically an unstoppable calamity.

In response, Roel and the skeleton giant combined their powers and unleashed their final strike.

Recalling his battle with Ro Ascart, Roel channeled his mana toward the Crown Origin Attribute and produced a brilliant pillar of golden light that rose into the sky. It swiftly condensed into a golden fragment that fused into Grandar’s humongous body.

The ancient Sovereign was crowned once more after many years.

The sunset plains began overlapping with the real world. The cheers of the giant warriors echoed deafeningly, even louder than the thunderous rumbling of the crimson lightning.

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As Grandar hurled his fist, a crimson setting sun rose behind him, becoming one with his attack. The setting sun clashed with the sword of gray miasma, producing a loud sizzling sound together with sorrowful cries of the fragmented souls.

It was as if two different worlds had collided and was pitting to determine which was superior.

After a momentary standstill, the sword of gray miasma finally started to recede. Eventually, the crimson light that dominated everyone’s vision.

Boom!

The curtains were finally drawn on the war in Tark Prairie.