Seeing his companion die in seconds did nothing to make the Black Heart Cultist back down, though his expression indicated his fighting spirit was fueled by more than bloodlust or survival. The pugilist seemed aware of Zac having a seal. Possibly even of his Flamebearer status by the almost deranged hunger in his eyes.

His desire was perhaps the most shocking part of the situation, even if it worked in Zac’s favor. The spatial cage was gradually crumbling with its creator dead, and the worst thing that could happen was the cultist escaping to target the Yphelion or someone else.

This was the first time Zac had encountered a Peak Hegemon qualified to join the battle over Ultom and the Left Imperial Palace. The situation wasn’t like with Tussar. Judging by his aura, the pugilist really was less than a hundred years old. Reaching that far in a century went beyond the natural order. Late D-grade should have been the limit, as evidenced by Kator and the other elites who’d popped up.

Peak D-grade was the final stage and the hardest to cross. It was completely different than simply reaching the limits of Late Hegemony. Peak D-grade meant perfecting your core and setting the stage to assault Monarchy. The demands were exacting and required more refinement and preparation than the other stages combined.

When you had heavy foundations like Zac and the other Eonic Seeds, not a single aspect could be lacking. Picking a shallow path to rush through the grades wouldn’t work either. Hegemony was a watershed where each bottleneck would forever stop those with lacking qualifications. If anything, such a cultivator would take longer to reach Peak D-grade since they’d have to stop and rework their foundations every step of the way.

Peak D-grade within a century seemed like something only Heretical Factions willing to break the Law of Balance could accomplish. His enemy must have forcibly raised his grade through rituals similar to the one Boje was forced into. Of course, it must have been through a much superior method. The approaching pugilist showed no hint of the damaged foundations his Alchemist still suffered from.

The Black Heart cultist also had the strength to match. Coming out on the losing end during their initial exchange wasn’t fake. The cultist’s Daos wasn’t superior to Zac’s, nor was his attribute pool. However, the added benefits from a monstrous Heart Curse and a Peak D-grade Cosmic Core were enough to create a small disadvantage in a straightforward clash.

The Void would help tip the scales in his favor, though it had lost some of its use. His Void-related abilities were still best used to suddenly create an opening, like how he took out the Spatial Cultivator in one go. Now, the jig was up. The pugilist didn’t need to understand what concepts the abilities were based on to be prepared for them.

Thankfully, the Black Heart Cultist’s path was restrained by Zac’s, further improving the odds of victory. The pugilist’s nightmares couldn’t display their full power, thanks to Nine Reincarnations Manual andthe training he’d undergone to survive the Atavism and the Epiclesis Bell. Meanwhile, the cultist’s Dao of Death was more of a hindrance than a help when fighting a pureblooded Draugr, especially a descendant of Eoz who was almost immune to curses.

Dozens of demonic fists appeared out of nowhere as the enemy drew closer, just like the initial attack that had almost blown Zac to smithereens. The coffin-wielding pygmy skeleton had its hands full, and the black swirl skeleton had exhausted most of its energy to transport the previous explosion to the Spatial Cultivator’s location.

Six Abyssal chains tore through the air, forming a deadly blockade. It wasn’t enough. The hands moved with incredible speed and were instilled with a mysterious power. They shifted in and out of reality, countering the impenetrable movements of Zac’s Inexorable Stance. Half of the fists locked down Love’s Bond while the rest went in for the kill.

Dealing with the fists wouldn’t accomplish much; neither could Zac ignore them. Each attack held as much power as a normal Middle D-grade Skill, and they emitted an incredibly foul aura that messed with Zac’s mind. Zac felt himself being dragged into a waking nightmare as more and more attacks joined the first.

Zac didn’t want to wait and find out what would come from it. Breaking the odd voodoo curse had already left his body riddled with small wounds. His situation would have been even worse if not for his Specialty Core’s Karma-avoiding ability and Immutability of Eoz, though their protection came with a significant drain of Vigor and Cosmic Energy.

The fists were forced to a crawl as Zac cranked the repulsive domain of Arbiter of the Abyss to its limits. The attack appeared partly illusory, like some of Ogras’s skills. Zac already had a counter for such methods after repeatedly sparring with the demon over the past months. He rushed forth, delivering Death to any limbs within reach, each swing lessening the mental influence.

The deathly swirls surrounding Death’s Duality grew larger as Fatehew fed on the Mental Energy imbued in the attacks. And yet, Zac’s sense of wrongness only increased as he made a beeline for the real target. Zac soon couldn’t take it, even if his danger sense remained at a low roar. Death was looming, eluding his senses.

Zac activated the fourth pygmy’s ability of empowerment, prompting the shield-bearing pygmy to erupt with power. A huge, crystalline coffin enclosed Zac just before the surroundings changed into a huge, hollow tower, with Zac caught in the middle.

Thousands of twisted denizens lined the winding path leading toward the depths of hell. Their angry stares combined into a tremendous devilish aura that flooded Zac’s surroundings, where the tower acted as an amplifier. The pressure already pushed the mental defenses of Indomitable to their limits, and that wasn’t even the real threat. The pugilist was nearby; he could feel it.

Zac furiously tried to break the illusion, coming up utterly short. A world-ending punch interrupted his attempts, slamming into Zac. The coffin conjured by Profane Exponents shattered after absorbing most of the force, causing the whole skill to collapse. Madness and violence flooded through the cracks, and Zac let himself be submerged as he dug toward its source. The pugilist had been unable to perfectly mask his aura when going in for the kill, and Zac chose to retaliate rather than focus on defenses.

Agonizing, festering wounds were carved across Zac’s body, with Arbiter of the Abyss failing to fully tide through the overspill. Moving with the Void helped, but the ability wasn’t omnipotent. He was facing an unfamiliar technique, and there were no safe spots to speak of.

It did let Zac get close enough without being torn apart, though he was forced to activate two healing brands from Undying Seal, his upgraded version of Undying Mark. The skill could now be empowered by his Dao of War, adding a boost to his power depending on how badly he was wounded. The change meshed extremely well with his Eoz bloodline, allowing him to live up to the name of the Vanguard.

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Zac unleashed a lightning-quick swing the moment he crossed the gauntlet. He stopped himself from also activating Void Zone at the last moment upon realizing something was wrong. His chains had already reached their target. The first one latched on just as Zac’s attack reached the pugilist’s head, only for him to collapse into a putrid water that expanded to the size of an ocean.

Zac tsk-ed with annoyance as he looked around. He’d been almost certain he was dealing with the real target. All of his senses said the same thing and the energies were indisputable. His combat experience was the only thing leaning the other way. The cultist had been all too willing to enter a melee despite the evident dangers, meaning he had a powerful counter, or the whole thing was a feint. It appeared it was the latter, which meant Zac had taken all that punishment for nothing.

A twisted laugh echoed through the depths. “Arcaz Umbri’Zi, you’re very different from the reports. I’m curious about your uncanny ability. Did you get it from Ultom? Tell me, and your death will be faster.”

The voice came from every direction, making it impossible to narrow down the source. Zac would normally have used the opportunity to extract some information, such as how the Black Heart Cult had appeared in the Imperial Graveyard. However, his companions were no doubt in a desperate battle on the outside.

Worse, Zac could already feel a drain of Miasma and Vigor through Solidarity Link, and wounds were being added to the bloody canvas drawn across his body. Zac was having a rough go at it, and it looked like Kator wasn’t faring any better.

“Big words for someone afraid to face me,” Zac scoffed while changing his approach.

The Black Heart cultist wasn’t following the same path as he. Instead of Technique, the pugilist relied on unpredictable nightmares to attack his opponent’s mind before going in for a kill. An opportunity would present itself so long as Zac could keep his target close. Which was easier said than done, considering Zac had no way to pinpoint his target within the dreamscape.

A slight ripple in the water made Zac swirl around. Another punch emerged from the darkness, which Zac deflected with the chains wound around his left arm. He felt like every bone on his left side broke from the enormous force within. His axe clove the waters in half, exposing the pugilist within.

The world changed once more before Zac could seize on the opportunity, placing him in a vast torture chamber whose deafening screams of agony rattled Zac’s soul. Another series of attacks was launched and blocked, where Zac was dragged through one world after another.

Knowing he was dealing with a dreamscape did little to counter the skill, and each scene lasted too briefly to pinpoint any weaknesses. Entering a Void State didn’t change anything. The skill was too powerful, creating a true dreamscape that couldn’t be peered through. The tactic was clearly the counter the pugilist had devised. Instant activation of skills and uncanny movement were useless if you lacked a target.

Zac refused to give in. If smarts didn’t work, then he could only rely on brute power. Torrential amounts of Mental Energy poured into Fatehew as he lashed out at everything in his surroundings. Every world was ripped apart with utmost prejudice, causing mutual destruction of the spirit.

Fatehew had smoothly entered Middle D-grade already, and its ability to drain Mental Energy had increased exponentially. It had become a very effective weapon against higher-graded enemies. He couldn’t compete with a Peak Hegemon in normal energy reserve. Mental Energy was another matter.

Someone who’d rushed to Peak D-grade within a century couldn’t possibly also have a powerful soul. Zac could feel every swing tear away a chunk of Mental Energy from his opponent while destabilizing the skill. It was impossible he’d be able to endure much longer.

The blind rampage didn’t come without a price. Causing such wide-scale destruction created many openings, and new wounds replaced those he’d closed. Zac wasn’t sure if it was good or bad news that the cultist had learned his lesson after the first exchange. He didn’t dare use another big skill out of fear of being exposed.

A scream of danger made Zac move his axe to his leg, narrowly blocking a strike meant to sever his limb. He was still pushed further into the next dreamscape by the great force, where a familiar tentacle waited to snatch him. It rose from the depths, covered in innumerable hands sutured onto a leathery hide.

It was the Collector, the miscreation he hadn’t seen since the Technocrat Research Base. Of course, it wasn’t the real thing, but it still left Zac extremely alarmed. Seeing it meant he’d been dragged deeper into the pugilist’s techniques than he’d expected, to the point his subconscious had been rallied against him. seaʀᴄh thё nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Zac ferociously slashed at the grasping tentacle before flashing away, straining his senses to their utmost to find his target. He still failed, which meant he had to take a gamble. Zac kept up his destruction until the next strike arrived, using Void Mountain to hide his Remnants stirring.

At that moment, Zac finally unleashed Void Zone to its limits. A forty-meter-wide sphere turned opaque inside the dreamscape, exposing a figure just meters away. He seemed prepared for something like that to happen and forcibly turned into a streak to escape.

It didn’t matter. Zac had been forced to expose Void Zone, but it accomplished its goal—confirming the real pugilist was nearby. Utmost darkness was born in the crumbling spatial pocket, erasing the damaged dreamscape with Oblivion and Death.

Zac briefly saw a large book made from human skin, each page inside holding a different illustration. He guessed that was the true appearance of the skill he’d finally broken. The Supreme Pathbound Skill turned the region into a separate dimension where Zac was king. Hiding inside was nigh impossible.

The summoned Kan’Tanu Hegemons hiding in the corners of the crumbling dimensional pocket were no longer safe. The desolate statues on the two spirals threw out their chains, ever eager to add new members to their ranks. The strongest among them were Middle D-grade. He was barely able to fend for himself, let alone help the others, especially when they’d been split up into the two separate realms of Eye of Desolation.

The pugilist fared much better, destroying any chains that came close. Upon realizing he couldn’t escape or hide in a dreamscape, he directly targeted the skill. Zac snuck closer under the guise of darkness, stopping just over one hundred meters away. A spectral chain gingerly moved forward, following the same Void-imbued concepts as the one that caught the Spatial Cultivator.

Zac grimaced with pain upon seeing huge cracks appear on Eye of Desolation‘s band of statues. It was unable to endure the pugilist’s punches and finally exploded, taking two of the Hegemons with it to the afterlife. It was at that exact moment the spectral chain of Arbiter of the Abyss reached its target.

The Black Heart Cultist realized something was wrong too late. He’d been on guard for a deadly ambush, not a gentle tap on his back. Knowing he faced a calamity, the three heads and six arms fused into his physical body, prompting it to bulge and then wither. Monstrous energy gathered in his fists as he unleashed a barrage of punches in Zac’s direction.

The whole domain heaved under the assault. The force was too much to redirect, and Zac felt like he was trying to manipulate an oil tanker with the spectral chain. It was like the pugilist had rooted himself in space, turning into a deadly array tower. Zac had no choice but to temporarily back away as the two dimensions of Eye of Desolation merged.

The pugilist’s dominant display gave the trapped cultists a small hope for survival.

“Lord, save me!” a disfigured soldier with wriggling muscles wailed as he flew toward the Black Heart Cultists with multiple chains in pursuit.

“Get aw—” the Black Heart Cultivator’s words died in his throat when the soldier unleashed a ferocious swing with an axe that lit up with Divine splendor.

It was like reality was being overwritten, where the axe either grew larger or the cultist smaller. In no time, it was like a gash in the Heavenly Dome, from which the deadly vengeance of Arcadia descended. The man tried to move away, but they were already too close. Running away was no different than trying to escape the Heavens.

The cultist roared, and his body grew into a towering giant that could meet the attack. He’d clearly drawn from the full power of his Heart Curse, and Zac could sense its sinister aura course through his veins. At that time, another blade arrived without a sound.

If the first one came from the heavens, then the second was sent from the underworld to bring an end to the cultist’s desperate struggle.

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