Chapter 245 A Cataclysmic Playground [Part 3]
Northern vanished and reappeared high in the air above the Kirithon's massive form.
Twin crimson lances blazed in his hands as he arced downwards, letting out a thunderous battle cry.
The lances left streaks of crimson energy as Northern descended like a meteor.
The Kirithon, in response, shot hundreds of tendrils upward, approaching Northern's form with sheer obliterating force.
As both onslaughts collided, a supersonic reverberation tore through the space, its incandescent light drowning the night in day for a blinking moment.
Before everything returned to the way it was a moment before.
Northern, unrelenting, was already behind the monster.
He had used the blinding light as cover to escape the monster's troublesome eyes.
It was one of the few things he had observed about the horror.
Even though he wasn't using [All Eyes] at the moment, his keen observation and precaution had earned him a habit of its own.
And that was why he was able to tell, in the nick of time—just how glued the horror's eyes were on him.
This allowed every one of his attacks to be anticipated, expected.
He couldn't tell how exactly that played out, but it wouldn't be too far-fetched, considering that the Kirithon was a monster that dealt mental attacks.
Maybe it had some semblance of intelligence.
And maybe that was why it knew where to look, where to defend, and where to focus its regenerative ability.
That regenerative ability, in particular, had been a pain for Northern.
Attacks that desecrated trees and turned them to dust particles, this monster was recovering at an alarming rate.
And it was managing to live through every one of Koll's devastating onslaughts.
It had more than already proved the might of a Maelstrom-rank monster.
And Northern, in fact, was forgetting that it wasn't just a Maelstrom-rank monster but an apex predator amongst its kind.
Northern appeared behind the colossal Kirithon, his hands shrouded in the flowing cloth of intense crimson energy, sizzling with black sparks.
The air seized and flew back, making the environment around him airless for a tiny moment—in that moment, however, Northern, without hesitation, slammed both palms into the monster from the rear, unleashing a devastating torrent of crimson lances that tore into its flesh.
Having successfully evaded the monster and appeared at its blind spot, the attack was allowed to bite deep into the monster's body, such that it reflected a burning light before blasting out of its abdomen, leaving a little chunk of flesh on the side to hold its upper body.
Northern immediately narrowed his eyes, mentally sending a command to both his clones that were on standby.
The two dark sentinels, without any prior hint, dashed into the distance like bullets.
Streaking in and out of the raging disaster of Northern's attack and approaching the monster with frightening presence.
Both of them materialized two different weapons.
The Mortal Blade in one's hand, the Soul Taker in another.
Approaching the Kirithon, they released a barrage of arcs that adorned the horror like azure lines.
Almost looking like the crude awakening of a constellation that brought nothing but destruction and... death.
With the carving attacks, the Kirithon let out another bellow.
This time, its screaming voice sounded more hurt than intimidating, from the screech one could tell it had taken significant damage.
Finally, the hands it had burrowed into the ground began to move.
The monster was clearly up to something.
"Not gonna let you..."
Northern had already prepared another cataclysmic attack while his clones moved.
In fact, the role of his clones was to buy a tiny bit of time and prevent the monster from regenerating rapidly before he dealt it another finishing blow.
This one was supposed to be the last one.
He would gather all the power he could summon in Koll's soul and condense it to one single point.
After almost severing the monster's body from the flower bud-like pericarp that housed its lower body, this attack was supposed to completely render its core useless.
In the time that the monster would be using to regenerate, he was going to blast its cores.
All four cores.
He would aim his attack directly at that point. And because the horror would be busy regenerating, it wouldn't be able to defend itself... maybe to a degree it would.
But it couldn't be compared to its initial prowess at defense.
Whichever way, this attack was either going to deal critical damage or end it for good.
Whatever the results were, Northern was ready to accept them.
A complex array of crimson lances began to weave itself into Northern's front, each one imbued with a potent concentration of Koll's crimson soul essence.
The air crackled with the intensity of his power, and for a moment, the Kirithon paused, sensing the imminent threat.
Its body was already burning up flesh, viscera crawling eerily, in desperation to hold its body together, purple blood flowing like a waterfall, bathing the surrounding in a corrosive gore.
As it sensed the potent threat that Northern's attack posed, the Kirithon roared in defiance, its massive hands lashing out with blinding speed.
Northern immediately gritted his teeth, then quickly, with a mighty sweep of his hands, Northern unleashed his attack.
The crimson lances exploded outward in different directions, converging on the Kirithon in a dazzling display of light and energy.
The monster tried to retaliate, but its attacks were swallowed up by the sheer force of Northern's onslaught.
The ground trembled as the Kirithon's body was torn apart, its regenerative abilities overwhelmed by the relentless barrage.
Massive chunks of flesh were ripped away, revealing four pulsing cores at the creature's heart.
Northern, immediately seeing it, narrowed his eyes.
The crimson lances were as if they had a life of their own, they didn't stop raining down on the monster, they flew around like fairy devils, tearing its flesh and wearing down the monster's regenerative abilities.
But it was not going to be enough, because the Kirithon was still managing to heal, and still very fast... although not as fast as before.
Which was why Northern deduced that he needed to strike the cores...
And materialized another round of crimson lances.
Intensifying his essence on them so much that they were glowing with a blinding white light.
Helena and Terence watched from afar, a tense frown licking the Feral Sage's face.
Terence clutched Helena's arm tightly, her eyes darkened by both terror and awe.
"I... I... have never seen an ordinary Drifter fight like this..."
A pearl of sweat trickled down Helena's temple as she forced a side grin and muttered to herself.
"At this rate... this guy might really kill an Apex Maelstrom... I'd be damned."