Chapter 407: Phantom-3 - Flotation Armor (1)
The Interruption
In terms of combat experience, the Crone was leagues ahead of Linda. A Demon Lord of Hell is not born; the title is stolen.
Linda might have stood a chance against other Demon Lords, but the Crone, the Banshee Queen, didn't rely on brute strength. She was proficient in virtually all elemental magic and possessed extremely high mastery over soul and necromantic arts.
"Goodbye, my cute little thing."
The Crone raised her finger, black light condensing at the tip. Just then, a husky voice came from behind her:
"Excuse me, Big-Busted Lady, would you mind moving your foot? My friend here is in her growth phase, and a few stomps from you might be enough to stunt her."
The Crone turned her head, and a flash of fire caught her eye.
Armor!
No, it felt like a person.
A figure, wearing peculiar "clothing," was floating in mid-air.
A flame-like armor encased the body. The armor wasn't traditional; it was a unique construct made of countless micro-particles. These particles glowed with a faint red light, like plankton hidden in the deep sea.
The armor wasn't static; it constantly wriggled and shifted every second. Anyone with severe trypophobia would surely throw up just from looking at it.
The Crone retracted her fingertip, her expression slightly solemn. This guy gave off a strange feeling; she, a Demon Lord of Hell, could smell the aura of death on him.
Luke pressed his brow, forcing himself to ignore his fatigue.
"Did you not hear me, madam? Take your foot off her."
The Crone covered her mouth and chuckled.
"My cute human male, is the woman I'm stepping on yours?"
"Not yet, but I've always had designs on her."
"Giggle, giggle, giggle!! An interesting fellow. I like your honesty," she said, thrusting her chest out, making her peaks appear even higher and rounder. "What do you think of me? Am I not better than her?"
"Is this an invitation?"
"Of course. Do you dare?"
Luke gave a wry smile. "Ordinarily, absolutely. But unfortunately, I have the will but lack the strength right now. How about this... let's reschedule. Once I'm well-fed and rested, I promise we'll battle for three hundred rounds; I guarantee you'll be satisfied."
The smile vanished from the Crone's face. This mysterious figure was entirely unaffected by her seduction magic. What was even more annoying was his language, full of teasing and mockery, treating her with total disregard.
"I am from Hell. I am the Banshee Queen, Crone."
Luke nodded. "I know."
"You are not afraid of me!"
Luke sighed softly. "You're not the first Demon Lord to die by my hand, and you won't be the last."
"How interesting."
The Crone kicked Linda aside and began pacing the beach with her long legs, each step leaving a scorch mark on the ground.
A tense, volatile atmosphere brewed in the air.
Luke rubbed his brow, his voice betraying his weariness.
"Out of respect for your ample bosom, I'll give you two choices: One, get the hell back to your dimension and never return; two, become part of my collection."
"Do you have many collections?"
"I'm just missing a Banshee Queen."
"You are looking for death!"
The Crone exploded into action, her hand wreathed in flames, and she slammed her fist into Luke's chest.
Boom!
The fireball impact scattered outwards, but the Phantom-3 Armor in mid-air didn't budge. The Crone's pupils contracted, and she quickly retreated.
Luke patted his chest, brushing off non-existent dust.
"Your power doesn't even qualify for a test. Since you won't leave, I'm afraid I'll have to insist."
"Ava, start the sequence!"
"Shall I activate Psychic Mode?"
"No need. My head hurts enough as it is. Normal mode will suffice."
"Understood, Master."
The Phantom Armor's Power
The red armor emitted a piercing hum.
Dong!
An invisible energy pulsed outwards. As it passed, dust and water droplets seemed to lose gravity, floating upward before settling back down after a few seconds.
A faint force field shimmered on the armor's surface. As the night wind blew, the field flickered, disappearing like a mirage.
"No good!"
The Crone cried out in alarm, instinctively protecting her chest. The next second, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. The force felt like it could pierce right through her body.
Luke had appeared in front of her. He grabbed her demonic wing with his left hand and smashed her down.
Boom!
A large crater appeared in the sand. Luke raised his right foot, and the Crone quickly rolled to the side. Before she could recover, a sound of rushing air passed her ear, and pain flared from her back. She was sent flying again, smashing through two piles of rocks and slamming into the cliff face.
Luke gave her no chance to breathe. His form flickered, and he was instantly in front of her, using his fists and feet to pin her down and unleash a brutal beating.
The cliff face was utterly demolished, rocks tumbling down, only to be deflected away by the red energy before they could land.
Taking advantage of the fighting gap, Siobhan carried Linda back to the hillside.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
A pale Linda shook her head slightly. The ghostly shadows had severely damaged her mind; it would take time to recover.
"Who is that person? I saw him come out of the villa. Is that... Luke Shaw?"
"P-possibly!"
She had seen and even worn the Phantom-1 and Phantom-2 armors, but this new red armor was a first.
"He's so strong! He's winning!"
As she spoke, a figure burst out of the cliff—it was the Banshee Queen, the Crone.
"Die, human!"
The Crone spread her arms. A large red light appeared behind her, and countless fireballs materialized out of nowhere, shooting toward the cliff.
Luke took a step, and with a flash of red light, he appeared in mid-air. With another step, he materialized directly in front of the Crone. His bizarre movements baffled not only the Crone but even Linda, who was proficient in Kryptonian technology.
Is this even Kryptonian technology? What the hell has Luke Shaw invented?
"You are no match for me."
Luke muttered under his breath, looking down and kicking the Crone into the ocean.
The sea surged, and the water began to twist, forming a huge whirlpool. The Crone rose from the vortex, her coal-like vertical pupils radiating a desperate killing intent.
She was the Crone, the Banshee Queen who commanded countless domains, yet she had been kicked into the sea by a mere human. What was even more galling was that he clearly wasn't using his full strength—he was playing with her.
"You will pay, human."
"I will turn your body into a corpse puppet and boil your soul into a death lamp."
"Die!"
The Crone's pupils suddenly turned inky black. A vast plume of black mist erupted from her back, coalescing into a colossal black cloud. The mist roiled, occasionally revealing twisted faces—the one hundred thousand restless souls collected by the Banshee Queen.
Death Wail!
The souls charged out of the mist, obscuring the sky and emitting a high-pitched shriek that pierced the soul.
Linda and Siobhan, on the edge of the battlefield, immediately covered their ears, their expressions contorted in agony.
This attack was unavoidable, but Luke made no attempt to dodge.
Green flames burned in his eyes. He glanced up—just a glance—and all the high-pitched wails filling the air instantly vanished. The souls soaring through the sky scattered like startled rabbits, their retreat several times faster than their charge.
"How is this possible?"
The Crone froze, standing dumbfounded.
"Who... who are you?"
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