Chapter 305: Tearing Apart
Suddenly, it jerked its head upward.
High above the sky, a long spear seemed to plummet straight down. Upon closer inspection, it was a spear condensed entirely from pure magic.
And within that magic was a diving magical beast, upon whose back rode a human whose body was covered in blue markings.
In an instant, it understood. The magical beast was acting as the Earth Vein, supplying magic to the human. Together, their combined power had condensed into this spear.
What overwhelming strength. Those in the North still believed that with the emergence of the Supreme King, they could conquer the Greenwood. Yet even just these three individuals—no one in the North could compare to their power.
With that thought, Castag casually raised a hand.
It was only magic, after all. As a Phantasm, it naturally possessed the highest resistance to magic. Unless the massive magic carried a will strong enough to pierce its own, it could even absorb it and use it to repair its body.
Compared to the one in the sky, the one on the ground was more worthy of attention.
Castag could already see that the magic erupting from that person’s body was gradually being dyed with a red hue, as clear as a ruby.
This person was infusing his will into the magic. That was what truly demanded attention.
Inside the Frost Domain, a cold wind rose like a whirlpool, colliding with that red hue.
That was Castag’s will, aiming to erase the human directly with its own will.
Suddenly, its fur bristled all over—just like when it had faced those crossbows before.
Danger! And the source of that danger came from above.
It jerked its head upward once more, only to see that the previously blue spear had suddenly sprouted a dark red hue. Then, swiftly, the entire spear was dyed dark red. That was the power of the Great Annihilation—red lightning wrapped around it, flashing and leaping like crimson bolts.
"Roar!!!" The Frost Giant let out a furious roar.
This was divine power! That human actually dared to wield divine power!
Its raised hand rose higher, and the other hand joined it. Both broad palms grasped the dark red spear directly.
Red lightning burst forth, tearing the fur from its palms and carving wounds into its skin.
Blood splattered. Castag felt the power of the Great Annihilation violently tearing through its palms, accompanied by the will of that power eroding its flesh, attempting to obliterate the very tissue within its hands.
But it was not enough. At this level, it couldn’t truly drag its hands into the realm of annihilation.
With a ferocious expression, Castag exerted strength with both hands, lifting the spear, and its massive force left cracks across the spear’s shaft.
Just as it was about to crush the spear—along with the human and magical beast bound within—a golden streak of light suddenly appeared from afar.
It was that warrior from earlier.
Each of Castag’s six eyes seemed to serve a different task. Some watched the spear, others the golden streak of light, others still the human whose magic was turning red, while a few scanned the battlefield.
It saw the human warrior within the golden light—his armor crushed inward, half his face drenched in blood, one eye unable to open. The other, barely functioning, glared at it with unrelenting hatred.
Boom! In that moment, the human who had erupted with magic turned entirely red and transformed into a crimson streak of light. Intertwining with the warrior’s golden streak, the two streaks sliced across the land and charged toward Castag’s feet. Each one slashed at an ankle, cutting through tendons at the knee’s crook—the skin there being thinner—and tore open deep wounds, severing half the tendons.
Its body weakened. The massive bulk and thick flesh only made it heavier. With two severed tendons, Castag’s legs trembled.
"Screech!" Suddenly, a sharp cry rang out by its ear, and its palms felt light. The spear it had been gripping abruptly collapsed inward like a thin film, folding itself neatly onto the back of the dragon-eagle.
Madness and rage filled the creature’s eyes. Its sharp beak opened wide, and without the restraint of magic, its body shot forward like a bolt, piercing past Castag’s side.
"Splat!" Blood splashed. The dragon-eagle, now cloaked in crimson, brushed past Castag’s face, tearing out an eyeball and leaving several deep, bone-revealing gashes.
Boom! Carrying the remnants of its strength, the dragon-eagle slammed into the ground, creating a massive crater.
The dark red film slowly faded. Countless densely packed wounds burst across the dragon-eagle’s body. Feathers shattered, scales exploded, blood sprayed.
On its back, Richard’s eyes were hollow and lifeless. His consciousness was gone, his body riddled with cracks like shattered pottery barely held together. Yet in his hand, he still clutched the Dragon Spear tightly.
The dragon-eagle trembled, opened its beak, and chewed the torn-out eyeball. It couldn’t make it stronger or provide magic—its will would even cause harm—but the pain triggered its beastly instincts. It simply wanted to tear and chew its prey’s eye.
It was venting its rage and its fear.
After all, it was only a sixth-rank, hero-level magical beast. The Frost Giant before it, a Phantasm comparable to a god, was only overcome thanks to its devotion to Richard.
Boom! Boom! Two massive thuds—Castag collapsed to its knees, both arms hanging limply. Its bloodied, savage face tilted toward the sky, motionless.
Dark red blood dripped to the ground. The frost energy within stained the earth into blood-colored permafrost.
Before the Frost Giant stood George and Olivia.
"Is it dead?" George’s right leg bent awkwardly, likely broken. He propped his longsword into the ground, feeling as though he’d returned to his limping days.
"What do you think?" Olivia muttered, red magic still condensing on her sword.
"Haa... Huff..." George took a deep breath, enduring the pain. He steadied his stance and placed the sword behind him, letting Holy Light gather.
Boom! Gold and red streams exploded together, blasting toward the wound the dragon-eagle had ripped open on the Frost Giant’s head.
Yet the supposedly lifeless Frost Giant suddenly raised both hands. One in each direction, it caught the golden and red streams.
"Roar!!!" It howled. The wounds on its hands—already torn by the Great Annihilation—were now being struck by George and Olivia’s combined power. Flesh stripped away, leaving behind stark white bone. When the blast subsided, raw bone was exposed.
Its body lunged forward as if to pounce, and both arms came crashing down toward them.
Olivia’s magic shed its red hue, turning blue. She dodged the attack with ease.
George winced, barely escaping the impact. When he stopped, blood trickled from beneath his leg armor.
The Frost Giant slowly rose again. The wounds behind its knees—sliced open by George and Olivia—had already healed. Its facial gashes squirmed as fresh flesh grew, and the socket from which the eyeball had been torn began to bulge under sunken eyelids.
It walked toward the crater the dragon-eagle had created. The beast lay trembling, wings twisted and soaked in blood, incapable of flight. Richard still had not regained consciousness.
It bent over, revealing skeletal fingers as it grabbed the struggling dragon-eagle in its palm.
Its long body fit perfectly in its grasp.
Five eyes locked onto the dragon-eagle. Blood from its wounds splashed onto the Frost Giant’s face, giving it an even more menacing appearance.
Then, the Frost Giant slowly opened its mouth, intent on swallowing the dragon-eagle along with the unconscious Richard.
Though it wouldn’t fill its belly, the magic within their bodies would help it heal quickly.
As for the power of the Great Annihilation?
Those capable of invoking it were now essentially dead. Unless a god followed the trail of that power and crawled out from that place...
But such a god wasn’t among those beings. Even if it did emerge, it might not defeat the Frost Giant.
Just as the dragon-eagle was about to be devoured, a lion’s roar echoed.
Before it could turn, a colossal force slammed it to the ground.
Its grip loosened, and the dragon-eagle fell. The Frost Giant howled.
"Roar~~" This time, the pain within the cry was palpable.
It felt searing heat spreading from the spot being trampled. And as the heat spread, it left behind numbness.
This was the erosion of will!
It was going to die!
Castag felt death looming closer than ever.
But—it didn’t want to die! It didn’t want to die!
Even when it shouted for Aureus to kill it, it had only done so knowing that Aureus couldn’t truly destroy it.
Now that death was truly before it, its fear reached the utmost extreme—far greater than when the names of those existences flashed through its memory.
So, it spoke its first words since entering the Greenwood:
"I don’t want to die, let me go, please! O great being, let me live! I’m willing to serve you, to become your servant, to kneel and wipe the dust from the road ahead of you!" the sharp, infant-like voice cried.
The erosion on its back paused. The roar became a low, rumbling growl.
Castag struggled to turn its head—and saw what had pinned it down.
A magnificent Golden Lion stood there. Its golden mane shimmered under the Morning Star’s light, radiant and majestic.
Though Phantasms didn’t have clear hierarchies, like humans, they developed natural class divisions in large numbers.
And the Golden Lion stood above the Frost Giant in that hierarchy—only a tier below the greatest: dragons and phoenixes.
Yet now, this awe-inspiring Golden Lion stared at the human who had fused his will with his magic, seemingly awaiting his command.