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Chapter 117: The Final Battle Part 6
When Brandon and Cinnabar arrived, they found Metissa pressing a hand to her shoulder. Blood had seeped through the silver armor, staining her pristine white surcoat crimson. Her brow furrowed as she faced off against the towering monstrosity before her. Conrad, however, was nowhere to be seen.
Ackerman—the Divine Messenger of Earth—was behaving strangely. Its once grayish-yellow carapace and chitinous layers were now cracked wide open, revealing a molten red glow beneath, like lava flowing slowly within its body. If it had previously resembled a massive earthen sculpture, it now looked more akin to freshly poured granite, still hot and unformed.
Brandon’s eyes widened at the sight. This was the blood of gods in a berserk state. Such an event would regress even an awakened Divine Messenger by one stage of evolution. After this battle, Ackerman would devolve from its incomplete form into a juvenile state. But why? Under normal circumstances, the Divine Messenger would never willingly trigger berserk mode unless its life was in dire peril. Like many high-level bosses, berserk should only activate when its health dropped below 30%.
His gaze traveled along Ackerman’s arm until he spotted a deep wound on its left flank, exposing bone. One glance at the injury confirmed Brandon’s suspicion—it bore the unmistakable mark of Metissa’s Thousand-Man Strike. Yet this alone couldn’t explain the berserk activation. Even full-on hits from such an attack wouldn’t drain more than a tenth of Ackerman’s formidable vitality. No, there was only one plausible explanation: Ackerman had been commanded to enter berserk voluntarily.
Turning his head, Brandon met Metissa’s apologetic silver gaze. “Forgive me, human,” the elven princess murmured, her voice strained. “I let Conrad escape.”
Brandon sighed inwardly. In truth, it was his oversight. Neither he nor Cinnabar had anticipated that Ackerman—a creature seemingly born of insectoid corruption via the blood of gods—would possess the intelligence for misdirection. But then again, Conrad didn’t need Ackerman’s intellect; so long as he controlled the ‘sheath,’ he could dictate its actions.
“It’s not your fault,” Brandon said firmly. The trio stood side by side, facing the berserk Divine Messenger. “What happened here?”
“The man tried to lure me into a trap, but I saw through it,” Metissa explained, coughing violently into her hand. Blood smeared across her palm. “He summoned this beast and attempted to flee under its cover… I struck with a Thousand-Man Strike to stop them, but…” She paused, wincing. “The monster suddenly mutated mid-attack, breaking free of my gravity bind.”
“That’s how you got hurt?” Brandon asked.
Metissa nodded.
"Is it serious?" Brandon frowned. After entering its frenzied state, the Divine Messenger of Earth's strength would surge by 20%. If Metissa had taken a direct hit from it, her injuries were likely far from minor.
“Just a graze,” she answered quietly. “But the elemental energy has seeped into my lungs.”
Brandon grimaced. To call that minor was stretching the truth, though he reminded himself that Metissa existed in a spectral state. Physical wounds merely reflected disturbances in her soulfire and weren’t as debilitating as they might appear to mortals.
“What do we do now?” Cinnabar asked.
“We’ll have to adjust our plans,” Brandon replied, his eyes locked on the unmoving Ackerman. He still couldn’t fathom why Conrad was so desperate to separate them, even going so far as to expend precious blood of gods to force Ackerman into berserk mode. “Cinnabar, go with Metissa to pursue Conrad. Don’t let him disrupt our arrangement. As for Ackerman…” He clenched his fists. “Leave it to me.”
“You?” Cinnabar turned, her fiery red eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Human?” Metissa echoed, equally surprised. She knew Brandon’s capabilities better than anyone—he was but a low-tier silver-ranked warrior. Even with extensive combat experience, how could he hope to stand against a monstrosity who had awakened elemental affinity? Delaying it seemed impossible, let alone defeating it outright.
“Have you forgotten my true abilities, Metissa?” Brandon thought inwardly.
“Are you referring to your Planeswalker powers, human?” Metissa responded telepathically.
Brandon gave a subtle nod.
“I’m staying with you,” Cinnabar interjected suddenly, tightening her grip on her halberd. Her gaze remained fixed on Ackerman, who stood motionless, exuding no detectable presence. All three knew that any movement on their part would provoke an immediate counterattack. “If you die, neither Metissa nor I can guarantee victory over this thing. For the sake of protecting what remains of the Gray Wolves Mercenary Company, your life is mine to safeguard.”
Brandon blinked, caught off guard by her resolve.
“She is right, human,” Metissa chimed in softly. “Without this monster, Conrad stands no chance against me. I’ve faced many wizard hunters during my time among the Minarians.”
“Very well,” Brandon conceded. With Cinnabar’s assistance, his chances improved significantly. Reaching into his pocket, he drew a second card of the day:
Silver Warhorse
(Legendary Radiance V, White)
Mana Cost: 10
[Treasure: Relic/Divine Artifact – Rank 7 Construct]
The Silver Warhorse possesses levitation capabilities.
Mithril-forged.
As soon as the Fate Card materialized in the air, a magical array formed on the forest floor. A brilliant flash of light illuminated the area, accompanied by the thunderous neigh of a warhorse.
And his movement immediately provoked a counterattack from the Divine Messenger of Earth, Ackerman. Conrad wasn’t a fool; he feared that this mindless insect-like Divine Messenger might be lured away by misdirection tactics right from the start. To prevent that, he ordered it to remain stationary. If anyone attempted to bypass it to pursue him, Ackerman would be authorized to strike.
Magic use was one of the triggers for such an authorization.
But no sooner had Ackerman moved than Cinnabar and Metissa stepped forward, one from the left and the other from the right. Halberd met spear with a sharp clack as they blocked the monster’s assault. Though both girls were only lower-tier gold-rank in strength, Cinnabar’s power as a Divine Messenger—combined with her mastery over the Element of Thunder—and Metissa’s ethereal form, which had long since attuned itself to the essence of souls, created a synergy that allowed them to barely withstand Ackerman’s blow.
Even so, the force of the impact forced both girls to grunt in pain, each staggering back three or four steps before regaining their footing.
By then, the white light in front of Brandon had faded, revealing a majestic Mithril warhorse stepping forth from the magical array. Its metallic sheen shimmered like liquid starlight, and its wings stretched wide, exuding an aura of divine majesty. The ruby eyes, carved with meticulous precision, glanced at Brandon before bowing its head in deference.
Cinnabar paused momentarily when seeing the warhorse, but she quickly understood Brandon's intention.
“Cinnabar, mount up,” Brandon ordered. “Metissa, provide cover.”
Before Ackerman could react, Metissa unleashed a Soul Lance, forcing the berserk behemoth back. Though her skill had a long cooldown, its sheer destructive power made even Ackerman hesitate to withstand the blow. Seizing the opportunity, Cinnabar leapt onto the Mithril warhorse, pulling Brandon up behind her. Sharing a single mount left both feeling slightly awkward, but Cinnabar quickly composed herself.
“Circle around behind it,” Brandon whispered. “This mindless brute will obey orders to the letter. Draw its attention first.” Then, addressing Metissa: “Stay put until we’re clear, then follow.”
“I understand,” Metissa affirmed.
With that, Cinnabar spurred the Mithril steed skyward, soaring directly over Ackerman’s head. Not content to leave without provocation, she unholstered the hand crossbow strapped to her boot and fired a bolt downwards. The shot immediately drew Ackerman’s ire.
Roaring ferociously, the insectoid titan slammed its hand into the ground. A twenty-meter stone pillar erupted beneath them, chasing the airborne pair relentlessly. Cinnabar urged the steed higher, weaving through increasingly taller pillars that burst forth like jagged teeth tearing into the heavens. When Ackerman finally withdrew its hand, the stone spires crumbled to dust. With a guttural growl, it melded seamlessly into the earth, vanishing from sight.
Metissa watched the scene unfold. Having witnessed Ackerman emerge from the soil to ambush Brandon earlier, she deduced it would likely pursue the same tactic. Satisfied, she guided her unicorn companion toward Conrad’s last known direction.
Meanwhile, high above, Brandon observed Ackerman’s retreat.
“Lower altitude,” he instructed Cinnabar. Despite its lack of intelligence, Ackerman retained primal instincts—it wouldn’t chase prey it deemed unreachable forever. Drawing aggro required finesse, much like luring enemies in games past.
Under Cinnabar’s deft control, the Mithril steed descended gradually, slowing its pace. Both riders remained vigilant, scanning the terrain below.
“What’s next?” Cinnabar asked.
“Lead it back to yesterday’s battleground,” Brandon whispered. “According to plan, Minnis and the others should finish dealing with the lizardfolk soon and come to reinforce us.”
“Are we able to hold out until then?”
“That depends on skill—and a bit of luck.”
Cinnabar fell silent, gripping her halberd tightly. Suddenly, she swung it sideways, unleashing an arcing bolt of lightning that struck the ground between several black pines. An explosion followed, and Ackerman erupted from the earth, thrice their height.
“Stay grounded and zigzag,” Brandon commanded urgently. “Hand me your crossbow.”
Cinnabar complied without hesitation. The Mithril steed veered sharply just as a razor-sharp rock narrowly missed them. Brandon wiped away a bead of sweat, grateful for Cinnabar’s quick reflexes. But he knew their perilous game had only just begun.
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