Lust Knight - Chapter 698

Lust and Pride might have yearned to linger in the enchanting touch of Lucien, yet as the fiery plumes of the explosion start to dwindle, all eyes are once again transfixed on Tyrion.

Defying the expectations of the Mermaids and Nagas alike, the merciless Naga King proved resilient to even such a devastating onslaught.

The once frightful, inky tendrils enveloping him are now nothing but a rain of cinders cascading into the depths below, as the tumultuous sea restores its tranquility.

Lucien, however, keenly observes the dreadful aftermath etched across Tyrion’s figure; his hide marred by countless fissures, entrails spilling grotesquely from the hellish burns, veins laying bare to the world.

Yet, as all witness these terrifying injuries, they begin to mend with unnerving speed as Lucien’s potent life mana performs its miraculous work.

"Impossible!" Greed bellows in disbelief.

"It’s the dark mana, it’s rejuvenating his physique!" Lust swiftly elucidates.

"Strike, now!" Lucien realizes the necessity for swift action, or Maya’s effort will have been in vain.

With a *BLINK* sound, he uses the teleport ability and bridges the two-mile gap to confront Tyrion, with the Sins naturally trailing behind, their forms materializing in the blink of an eye at the given coordinates.

In a heartbeat, Lucien summons his radiant golden naginata. But before launching towards Tyrion, his attention is captured by the sight of Maya descending into the watery abyss beneath them.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!! STUPID BITCH!!!" Tyrion’s voice resonates with unbridled fury as he conjures his sinister trident, unleashing a formidable beam of pure, jet-black energy aimed at Maya.

The nuances of Maya’s immortality remain somewhat elusive to Lucien, yet he realizes, given her recent self-immolation and expenditure of energy, she must be in a critically susceptible state.

Though unlikely to extinguish her life, Tyrion’s assault could potentially mar her essence. The resultant rebirth from her ashes, while preserving her life, would reset her to infancy, a condition ill-suited for their present predicament.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Lucien employs his teleportation, materializing beside Maya. He enfolds her in his arms, her tender, nude form cradled against him.

He lifts his golden naginata, a radiant bulwark against Tyrion’s impending strike. With a *BAMMMM*, the blade cleaves the beam of dark energy, bifurcating it and sending it spiraling into the ocean’s depths.

"HAAAAAA!!!" The Sins retaliate in kind, led by Wrath, who launches herself at Tyrion, her blood-soaked axe raised for battle.

Simultaneously, submerged beneath the churning waters, Lucien holds Maya in his embrace. Her body is heated, so healthy-looking, radiating a captivating beauty. Though she feigns unconsciousness, the slight quivering of her delicate limbs betrays her ruse. She instinctively latches onto Lucien, nestling her countenance into his chest, seeking comfort in his embrace.

"Just a little more." She would ask if it didn’t sound so egoistic at a moment like that.

A flood of memories engulfs Lucien, recollections of the first instance he held Maya this close. The sense of safeguarding such an exquisite and unblemished creature amplifies within him, provoking an unsettling guilt for desiring her magical core.

She remains oblivious to his inner turmoil, finding absolute serenity in his embrace. Enveloped by Lucien’s warmth, even the chilling embrace of the ocean depths seems comforting to Maya.

They both yearn for the tranquility of the moment to endure, but the ticking clock of their looming confrontation denies them this luxury.

"You’ve done admirably, my dear..." Lucien’s tone resonates with a tenderness that surprises even him. "A reward awaits you later."

His words provoke a soft, radiant smile to unfurl on Maya’s delicate lips. But a pang of loss reverberates through her as she feels Lucien’s hold on her recede.

Helena manifests by Lucien’s side, utilizing her own teleportation skills. Lucien entrusts Maya into her care, saying, "Take her to our family."

"Understood." Preparing to depart with Maya, Helena pauses as Lucien tenderly strokes the young-looking little lady’s face once more, planting a gentle kiss on her rosy cheeks.

Then he flaps his wings forcefully and emerges from the sea just below where the Sins are facing Tyrion.

Now, without the mass of tentacles to protect him, Tyrion has to rely on his trident for combat. Nevertheless, the power of the Naga King seems much greater than Lucien remembers.

That doesn’t stop Lucien from taking action, and he quickly joins the Sins to attack their enemy.

With a powerful thrust of his wings, Lucien breaches the surface of the sea, rejoining the aerial battlefield where the Sins lock horns with Tyrion.

Stripped of his monstrous tentacled shield, Tyrion now relies on his trident for combat. Despite this, the formidable prowess of the Naga King seems to have escalated beyond Lucien’s memory.

Unfazed by this revelation, Lucien dives into the fray alongside the Sins, engaging their adversary.

With many *BAM* sounds, they attack, and with many *WHOOSH*, they dodge incoming attacks.

Their coordination is a spectacle of seamless synergy, each working in perfect harmony. Despite Tyrion’s superior speed and strength, he struggles to contend with their eight-fold onslaught.

Six of the Sins serve as diversions, their assaults effortlessly parried by Tyrion, allowing Lucien and Pride to land the most punishing blows. Yet, despite their relentless assault, each inflicted wound on Tyrion regenerates with alarming speed, his retaliatory chaos mana annihilating the Sins’ forms and inflicting injuries on Lucien.

With the energies bestowed by his wives, Lucien rapidly recuperates, while the Sins reconstruct their forms using the demonic energies shared with their hosts. The frenzied rhythm of battle resumes.

"This is insanity!" Lucien projects his thoughts to the Sins amidst their skirmish. "How can this nefarious energy mend him with such haste?"

"Damn it, this is illogical, it’s fucking dark mana!" Wrath vents her frustration.

"It’s the consequence of the profane ritual," Sloth imparts, enlightening his fellow Sins and Lucien. "Tyrion absorbed the entirety of Tanu’s dark mana, but also manipulated his own corporeal form."

"His current physique mirrors ours," Lust elaborates on Sloth’s exposition. "Granted, he’s still comprised of flesh and bones, but those are saturated with the malevolent dark energies to their very core."

"Precisely," Sloth concurs. "That’s why the dark mana is capable of restoring his body, similar to how our demonic energy renews ours..."

"So, if he transformed the essence of his form..." Lucien formulates a strategy. "That is to say, if dark mana heals, then life mana..."

"The ideal alternative would be to use light mana," Lust interjects swiftly.

"But since we’re bereft of it, Pride’s energy would be the next best substitute," Sloth contributes.

"However, your life mana should now operate better to other elemental energies," Lust offers a caveat.

"Excellent!" Lucien diverts his concentration from harnessing more demonic energy for his offensive maneuvers, opting instead to imbue his formidable life mana into his weaponry.

*WHOOSH* *SLASH*

With a swift, synchronized motion, Lucien aligns with Pride, his golden naginata, radiant with life energy, cleaves through Tyrion’s defenses and severing his arm.

"AAARGHHH!!!" A raw scream of agony escapes Tyrion as he retaliates with a cataclysmic shockwave, courtesy of the ability stolen from Mira.

"DAMN!" Lucien attempts to employ his teleportation to evade the tumultuous wave and re-engage Tyrion, but the wave’s expansive reach hurls him backwards, plunging him back into the sea.

The Sins resort to protective barriers of demonic energy, but the wave’s ferocity at such proximity decimates their forms once again.

Emerging swiftly from the sea, Lucien is met with the sight of Tyrion reconstructing a new arm using dark mana. The speed of this regeneration surpasses even his own healing capabilities.

"This must be some joke!" Lucien finds himself swearing in disbelief.

"As long as he possesses dark mana, he’ll continue to regenerate," Lust promptly asserts as she remanifests her form.

"And how much of this dark mana does he still command?" Lucien inquires.

"Around a third," Sloth replies. "Maya’s assault obliterated his tentacles and part of his defenses, but he still has a substantial reservoir of dark mana, likely sufficient to rebuild his entire form multiple times."

"Multiple times?" Greed articulates in an exhausted tone as she reintegrates her form.

"We just have to keep attacking him until he can no longer heal!" Pride comments as she charges towards Tyrion once more.

But unlike Pride and Lust, the other Sins are running low on demonic energy.

"Pride is right, that’s our only plan now!" Lucien tries to encourage the other Sins as he follows Pride.

And they continue to attack Tyrion relentlessly, inflicting wounds on him over and over again.

*CRASH* *SLASH* *THUD*

The sound of their struggle reverberates through the air, the Sins’ desperate attacks met by Tyrion’s fearsome counterattacks. Yet the collective strength of the Sins starts to dwindle as their energies are continually sapped, their bodies repeatedly destroyed and reconstructed.

Meanwhile, Lucien, flanked by Pride and Lust, relentlessly presses the assault. Their hits land with ferocity, scoring wound after wound on Tyrion’s form. But each time, the Naga King’s injuries quickly close up, the dark mana working its insidious magic.

Despite the seemingly futile situation, the Sins fight on, their determination unyielding. Each new wound they inflict on Tyrion, each new onslaught they endure, only fuels their resolve.

Tyrion, however, is not one to be underestimated.

"Enough of this!" He roars, his voice echoing ominously across the vast ocean. His trident crackles with dark mana, ready to unleash another devastating attack.

The Sins, rallying their depleted energies, brace themselves for the incoming strike, their spirits unbroken.

"We can do this!" Lucien bellows, bolstering his comrades’ morale. He raises his naginata, the weapon gleaming with intense life energy, prepared for the challenge.

This battle, fraught with desperation and tenacity, is far from over.