Chapter 1051: Lucky Day
Everything was supposed to go smoothly. Everything had been meticulously planned, even though they had to fight this battle impromptu, with no understanding of their enemy and insufficient time for preparation.
But still, the battle had been progressing well—for the most part, they were winning. It was just one catastrophe they couldn’t overcome.
The crawling darkness.
Initially, they utilized the city wall’s defenses. The defense cast a shield of light over the city, making it nearly impossible for anything with an elemental body to enter—darkness, fire, light, nothing of that caliber could penetrate, so the darkness remained trapped.
During this respite, Gourdon was dispatched to the wall to find a way to combat the writhing darkness, but even that proved futile.
Eventually, the drifters on the wall had to evacuate and retreat deeper into the city. Meanwhile, Gourdon alone defended the entire wall—no monster, drifter enthralled or otherwise, could breach his position.
He was like a divine force of judgment; his gourd and red thread formed a lethal weapon combination. The threads moved erratically at breakneck speed, severing monsters in twain within the blink of an eye. The gourd served as a vessel for different kinds of mist.
When the drifters retreated, he filled the wall with crimson mist. As monsters entered the fog, they became enraged and charged at him with ferocity, intent on slaughtering and destroying everything in their path.
For a brief while, they lost their sensibility. They lost coordination and fell into patterns of recklessness, making it easier for Gourdon to slay them with his thread.
He moved fluidly from place to place—almost as if he were everywhere at once. He flowed like the threads themselves, and his melee attacks were ferocious and terrifying.
Once, he landed a devastating punch into the ribs of a creature that resembled an overgrown mound of rotting flesh with two human legs. The monster’s side snapped, air exploded outward, and multiple ribs burst through the other side before the beast went reeling through the air.
Another time, he simply kicked the head clean off another abomination.
While it would have been logical for the Elites to join him, none could. No one could fight alongside Gourdon when he was truly serious about combat—they were bound to die.
Maybe not immediately, but inevitably. The mist in his gourds was as lethal to drifters as it was to monsters. Because of this, Gourdon preferred to fight alone.
As the drifters retreated into the city, the mist also retreated into the gourd, and another was released. This was a purple mist that filled the air with poison. Most monsters crawling toward the wall collapsed before they could even reach the peak.
Those strong enough to resist the lethal poison were falling before his fists.
The monsters were being annihilated at an alarming rate. However, the tide of battle shifted when the crawling darkness resumed its advance.
It simply shattered the shield and began seeping into the city.
Gourdon found himself engulfed in darkness and was attacked by a creature with seven heads. He held his own against the beast and nearly killed it—until another seven-headed creature attacked him.
The creature was somehow capable of cloning itself. The flow of battle shifted, and Gourdon had to retreat.
He solidified a protective mist over the entire Citadel building while they patiently devised a way to deal with the darkness without losing too many soldiers.
That was how they remained until now, with no clear path forward.
At the very least, their numbers had been drastically reduced because Alystren and some newcomer had been busy setting maze traps in place.
Gourdon also suspected that those traps had somehow kept the monster from attacking them. It made no sense that the creature hadn’t assaulted the only settlement still standing in the darkness for two days.
That was when he noticed Ilitis smile.
Things were dire. Even he, who often considered laughter a form of expression, found it difficult to laugh these days.
If they weren’t careful, all of them would be annihilated. It was terrifying—as if all of them were simply waiting for the day they would die.
Which was only a matter of time. The creature that had attacked him just needed to arrive.
Then Ilitis said:
"It seems we’re in luck today."
The statement intrigued Gourdon so much that he almost smiled. However, a thunderous clash killed his expression.
’Front!’
He leaned against the balcony railing and focused. For a moment, the entire area was shrouded in dust, making it impossible to see what was happening.
But he could make out something. A white-haired boy moving with lightning speed through the mist. The movement—which he, as an Ascendant, struggled to track—was everywhere at once. The figure was effortlessly snapping monsters and breaking them apart with his bare hands. His hands moved like blades, his body flowing with devastating momentum. He controlled force and impact as if they were his own creation.
Blood arced through the air, but he paid it no mind. He plunged bare hands into monsters’ throats and ripped them out, only to discard the gore with an irritated expression.
Gourdon trembled, feeling cold in his bones as he watched. The speed was mesmerizing—he had to enter a trance-like state just to barely keep up. He couldn’t think of anything else or dare look away for even a second.
He was completely awestruck, enthralled by such an existence, until people finally began reaching the balcony and fleeing the compound, terrified by whatever carnage was unfolding outside.
The ferocious battle ended as abruptly as it began—short but brutal. A boy stood before the gate, shaking blood from his hands, his expression one of pure disgust as he stared down at the final monster he’d choked to death and torn apart.
Thalen stood at the balcony, staring down with a slight frown. He recognized the figure but harbored suspicions—until Ilitis spoke.
"You need not doubt what you’re seeing. It is indeed the Void Lord."
Northern looked up at Thalen on the balcony and waved with a broad smile.
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