Chapter 322: The Fire Phoenix (Part 6)

  As the Fire Phoenix's massive body, dozens of meters wide, was split in two, the sea of fire clouds in the sky vanished. The white rain of light was also gone. Only a trace of the white light's passage remained across the black horizon. Everything was severed by this sword, disappearing without a trace.

  The two halves of the phoenix's body fell to the ground, still emitting flames, but these flames were far less vigorous and fierce than before. After the flames, the phoenix's body once again became a pile of ash. The surrounding fire elements were still converging towards that pile of ash, but this time, the speed of their convergence was extremely slow. That world-shattering sword contained more than just power; its influence had reached the level of space and elemental particles.

  With a loud boom, the Decapitating Greatsword was heavily thrust into the pile of ash left by the phoenix, like a monument of incomparable majesty. A cracking sound, faint and almost inaudible by comparison, rang out as several crystal fragments flew out. The fluctuation of fire elements in the air was like the dying sigh of a giant. It pulsed one last time, then finally calmed completely, returning to the most primitive silence.

  The entire The Radiant Citadel erupted. Everyone saw it: the so-called Undying Bird, the ancient divine beast, had finally fallen under the Archangel's sword.

  The Archangel's face, framed by his golden hair and beard, remained expressionless, as if the countless worshipping and cheering below had nothing to do with him. He looked down at Ethan.

  Although Ethan couldn't see it, he could feel it. The majesty and pressure, like a great mountain, were now fully focused on him from above. He knew the Archangel had turned his attention to him. He suddenly put more force into his hand, hacking down with a full-power strike, and roared: "Get out of my way!"

  From the moment he had the phoenix pounce on the Archangel, he had intended to take the chance to escape outside, he just hadn't managed to get away.

  Lancelot had already turned to strike the phoenix. The swordsmen and priests were all captivated by the world-shaking battle in the sky; it should have been an excellent opportunity. As long as he could break through this circle, no one would be able to catch or surround him again. And that would only take two or three seconds. But just as he started to rush outward, a person blocked his way.

  It was Talise, who had been in the prison cell this whole time.

  The Templars had already dismantled the cell until only its frame remained. The shockwaves from the battle between the Archangel and the phoenix had then completely shaken it into ruins. Talise had been standing quietly to the side, watching everything: Ethan's escape, Lancelot's pursuit, the prayers and combat of the priests and mages. She was just an observer, but her expression had been very strange. And when she saw Ethan charging outward, she suddenly gritted her teeth, casually grabbed a Templar's longsword, and charged forward to block his path.

  "Are you crazy? Don't get in my way." Ethan slashed down with his knife. Although he was surprised that Talise would block his path at this most critical moment, he knew this was no time for astonishment. Whoever was in front of him had to be cleaved open.

  Talise barely parried the strike and staggered back. She gritted her teeth again, as if it took great effort to shout, "Stop this man, he's trying to escape!"

  With this one block and this one shout, the surrounding Templars all reacted. Though their minds were captivated by the great battle in the sky, they were well-trained warriors after all. Dozens of them immediately swarmed forward.

  "Sister Talise, why are you..." Aimee's face was full of disbelief.

  Talise didn't answer. She didn't even glance at her. She just raised her sword again and charged at Ethan like a madwoman. The rain of light in the sky had vanished, and the dense white magic in the air was gradually weakening. The two Death Knights had begun to slowly recover their mobility, but the surrounding Templars had already formed a tight encirclement.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "Brother Ethan, don't worry about me, you go... Stop fighting!" Aimee shouted in Ethan's arms, but she didn't dare to struggle.

  Ethan's face was ashen. The strikes he aimed at Talise grew heavier and faster with each blow. Talise found it increasingly difficult and arduous to parry. But no matter how hard it was, she didn't retreat or dodge anymore. Ethan was actually being held back by her. Although the surrounding Templars continuously came up to help, most of them were sent staggering back after a single exchange.

  If it weren't for Talise, if there were only a few instead of dozens of these elite swordsmen specially summoned by the Church, they might have been able to hold their own against Ethan. But with dozens around, and Lancelot's disciple at the forefront, everyone had unconsciously developed a sense of fear. The dark and bloody aura emanating from that knife was like a torch in the dark night amidst the previously abundant white magic field. One could even see with the naked eye the black, blood-tinged magical fluctuations. Even a block of wood could guess what the consequences would be of being struck by such a knife.

  Only Talise didn't retreat a single step. She took on more than half of the attacks herself. It was as if she had no reservations at all, completely unafraid that the knife, with its bizarre aura, would cut into her body. Every move, every stance, was a ferocious, lose-lose style of fighting.

  In this situation, Ethan discovered that this woman, who had always seemed not too smart and not too powerful, had swordsmanship that was completely beyond his previous impression. It was the crystallization of her natural talent and Lancelot's years of teaching. Although Ethan had the upper hand in terms of power, he simply couldn't force her aside in two or three moves.

  It wasn't until he felt the fire elements in the air completely calm down, and the immense pressure from the Archangel bore down on him like a mountain, that Ethan finally let go of Aimee. He roared and unleashed a full-power strike. He knew this was the last chance. If he couldn't leave now, he would truly never be able to.

  This strike was a true full-power blow. The black blade light was like a suddenly erupting black torrent, completely overwhelming Talise's sword light. The few Templars caught up in this strike were sent flying backward. Anyone could see that a blow like this was something they couldn't parry or block.

  After all, there were still countless companions around, the God of War Lancelot, and the miracle-like angel in the sky. Even if they gave a little ground, dodged a little, this person should still be unable to escape. So it seemed no fool would be willing to risk their life to block such a strike.

  But there was one person who neither dodged nor gave way. Talise reversed her grip on the longsword, placing the flat of the blade against her arm, her hands crossed. All her Battle Qi and magical light gathered on her arm. She was actually going to use her own body to block this strike.

  The white magic that filled the sky had vanished, as if dispelled by this one strike. This sky-covering blackness was not just sword energy, but more so the aura of death and malevolence from Necromancy. And a killing intent sufficient to crush and obliterate all living things. A strike that integrated this momentum, killing intent, and malevolent aura into one could only be used by a master like Lancelot, who had already fused his will, martial skill, and soul. It was also a strike that no one else could withstand.

  Even if Talise couldn't execute such a strike herself, she could never fail to recognize its power. Yet she still gathered all her strength and Battle Qi to block it head-on. Because as long as she didn't yield, Ethan's strike would land solidly, his momentum would be broken, and his aura would weaken. This would leave the best opportunity for the others, and he would absolutely never be able to escape.

  The black sword energy was like a tide, like thunder. A human body was more fragile than a water-soaked piece of bread in such a raging torrent. But there was not the slightest trace of fear in Talise's eyes. There wasn't even a strong emotion like a burning fighting spirit. There was only a strange calm, and sorrow.

  "Sister..." Aimee's cry of alarm was completely drowned out by the wind and momentum stirred up by this strike. Even though she knew nothing of martial arts, she could feel just by intuition that if Talise blocked this strike, she would be torn to pieces the moment Ethan faltered.

  With a dull thud, the world-shattering black storm vanished. All the swordsmen here were battle-hardened veterans with rich experience. They could all tell. This sound was the mixing shatter of metal and bone.

  Talise was not torn to pieces. She was sent flying like a cannonball launched from a catapult. With a loud boom, she crashed straight into a wall not far behind. The wall collapsed, burying Talise beneath it, but everyone could see the trail of blood she spat out in mid-air.

  It wasn't just Talise who was spitting blood. Blood also trickled from the corner of Ethan's mouth. He had sent Talise flying with that strike, but it seemed he had also injured himself and was temporarily unable to move.

  But even if he couldn't move, others could. Rodhart and Sylka, who were being surrounded by Templars, suddenly burst out.

  The white rain of light summoned by the Archangel had vanished, and the white magic in the air was gradually weakening. The movements of these two Death Knights were slowly recovering, but the recovery seemed limited, which was why the Templars were able to trap them with combined force. But just as Ethan unleashed that strike and his body faltered, the two Death Knights let out a strange cry in unison. A black liquid simultaneously oozed from their facial orifices. Then, their movements completely returned to the state they were in when they first charged into The Radiant Citadel.

  The two figures, who had just been struggling in the Templars' white magic, suddenly accelerated. The few Templars surrounding them were sent flying by the direct impact, and then they charged towards Ethan and Aimee.

  With just the astonishing speed and strength of these two monsters, if they really got moving, almost no one could stop them. But the moment their figures moved, a shadow as tall as a tower suddenly descended from the sky and landed on them. It was the Archangel's Decapitating Greatsword.

  The ground trembled under the power of this great sword. The lower bodies of the two Death Knights remained on this side of the sword, while their upper bodies continued to fly forward from inertia. The hand holding the sword released. A finger as large as a person pointed at Ethan, and then Ethan froze completely.

  The Archangel's gaze from above held no expression. That supreme majesty expressed what needed to be expressed far better than any facial expression.

  The holy light surrounding the angel suddenly intensified at this moment. Then, this dozens-of-meters-tall giant Archangel slowly grew thin in the holy light, disappearing into the air like a phantom from an illusion.

  Amidst the unified prayers of the priests, the Pope, who had been standing motionless as a statue atop the Grand Hall of Light, finally moved. He swayed, then staggered and fell to the ground.