It is the purest destructive power! Whoosh—
A dazzling radiance erupted within the volcano; wherever it passed, buildings, human bodies, and steel alike were melted into slag. Within a hundred meters, everything was instantly cleared, leaving only large swathes of high-temperature white smoke. Gurgle... Lava continued to churn, while the small town had shattered with a roar.
Throne stood in the center of the ruins, turning his head to look up the stairs. The door to the temple-like structure opened, and several figures stood there; in the center was none other than Rykard. The demigod scanned the area, and seeing his base destroyed to this extent, his expression turned cold inch by inch. Yet, he was more puzzled than angry.
"How did he get here?"
The cutlery had just been set on the table, and he was in the middle of discussing what main course to eat; how had the target arrived so soon? For a fleeting moment of confusion, he felt something was wrong.
"No, even if I underestimated this person's arrogance, how could he possibly have found the entrance!"
Throne's foresight left Rykard somewhat bewildered; even Rya knew nothing of that entrance, and he himself hadn't revealed any abnormalities. This made no sense at all.
"Could it be Bernahl? No, he is still hesitant; he would never draw his blade against me!"
"You... shouldn't you give me an explanation!?"
Rykard fixed his gaze on Throne.
The man stepped down, and with a squelch, turned a struggling snake-man into pulp.
"Fire Prelate, Godskin Noble—what a hefty price to pay, having them risk being devoured just to come and help."
Throne shook his head, scraping the gore off his iron boots on a stone. He finally understood how greedy that serpent was; it not only wanted to devour him but also wanted to use his blade to kill others.
It wished to eat Volcano Manor until only a few living beings remained, and those who survived did so not out of mercy, but because their value lay in bringing it more snacks. Rykard's eyes flickered for a moment, and he answered calmly, "As long as it can blaspheme the golden order, even that great serpent can be a partner!"
Throne stared at him expressionlessly, saying word by word, "Partnership does not mean feeding yourself to the serpent."
Rykard's pupils constricted. He had been feeding in secret all this time, and not a single bit of information had leaked out. Looking at the heavy-armored knight holding a sword in both hands, he didn't look like a prophet either.
The Godskin Noble showed no reaction, while the Fire Prelate cast a puzzled glance, yet saw nothing.
"If Caria wants to go to war, there is no need to use such a childish excuse. I am a dignified demigod, a blasphemer of the golden order, and the master of Mt. Gelmir. Feeding myself to the serpent? Do you take me for a fool?"
Throne stared at him calmly and nodded slightly.
"That's right, you are exactly a greedy fool!"
Throne was saying this on behalf of Ranni; as family, she could not understand Rykard's choice.
There was no need to turn into a monster just to blaspheme the golden order, let alone a monster that recognized no family and only knew how to 'eat.' While he cursed like this, his gaze swept over the two people beside Rykard, and he immediately made a judgment. The Fire Prelate was somewhat defensive; he was here for wealth. The Godskin Noble, however, was different; it was here for his life.
Why the Godskin Noble was going against him, he roughly knew was for Melina's sake, but who it was obeying and why it wanted to kill him remained unanswered.
"Hahaha, interesting. It's been many years since anyone has cursed me like that!"
Rykard laughed heartily, possessing a bit of Radahn's boldness, but his expression suddenly turned gloomy.
"I feel sorrow for Ranni—her chief knight is nothing but a reckless fool."
Making false accusations without evidence, charging headlong into the heart of Mt. Gelmir to hack and slash—it matched his first impression. This kind of person was easy to deal with.
Their overconfidence made them charge into any den of dragons or tigers. By the time they realized the danger, it was too late to turn back.
"Whatever nonsense you spout, the truth is right here. Come and take it."
He beckoned with a finger. The Godskin Noble had already drawn its sword, and the Fire Prelate raised his hammer.
They didn't care for explanations. This man had charged in and slaughtered their people—he wouldn't leave without paying a price.
"My battle with Bernahl did demand my full strength, but that was only the full strength of my martial arts!"
Throne didn't retreat. The snake had left its hole; he might as well exchange blows.
At the very least, Rykard wouldn't use his full strength, and the Godskin Noble and this Prelate—they weren't enough. Bang—
A pale ring shimmered as Throne surged forward. Rykard laughed. This kind of man, brimming with self-confidence, didn't know the meaning of retreat.
Forced out, he had to eat something before returning, though doubts lingered.
"How did he know? What does he want?"
He didn't move, letting the Prelate and the Godskin charge ahead. The great hammer slammed into the ground, sparks erupting in a brilliant spray. The air ignited.
Throne, about to rush forward, sidestepped and thrust the Sword of Night and Flame. Swish. The beam of light pierced through the flames, slamming into a spinning 'tire.' It sprang up, spinning into a cold glint. Clang!! The rapier clashed with the greatsword. Throne's knees bent slightly, then he thrust upward.
"Get lost!"
The Godskin Noble was knocked back. A massive shadow loomed—the Fire Prelate's physique was like a door panel, stout and rotund. His armor revealed no skin, his face masked, his helmet resembling a blazing chalice. Thud!
He crashed into Throne's arm guards like a meat-missile, forcing him to slide back several meters. Flames ignited in his palms, and he slapped his chest.
"O flame, grant me strength!"
The Prelate's body seemed to burn, his footsteps heavier as he charged forward, swinging the crimson great hammer with all his might. Clang!!
Throne swung his greatsword. The collision with the hammer sank both their bodies, cracking the ground into spiderweb-like fissures.
"You, your strength is not bad."
To the Prelate, it sounded like mockery.
He'd used a forbidden art to boost his strength, swinging the hammer with both hands, while his opponent wielded the sword with one.
"Together, kill him!" The Prelate roared. Hundreds of enemies crawled from the ruins. The Godskin Noble was the fastest, sliding to Throne's front and thrusting its sword. Swish, swish, swish...
The sound of air being pierced came rapid-fire. Throne retreated a few steps, his eyes catching a barrage of crossbow bolts. The chubby Prelate spun like a top, brandishing the burning great hammer with terrifying momentum. Throne glanced at the cliff behind him—no panic. He stomped his right foot, and the Sword of Night and Flame swept out.
"Frost-covered land."
"Sea of raging flames!"
Beneath his feet was spreading ice, and above was a scorching wall of fire. The enemies who had charged to the front were too late to retreat and ignited on the spot, while the Fire Prelate forcibly charged through the flames, raising his great hammer high.
Rumble—
The ground trembled, and even a piece of the cliff was knocked off, crashing into the boiling lava with a clatter. But the Prelate felt no joy; he looked up.
"He's there!"
Throne used Starlight movement to retreat over ten meters, kicked the mechanism, and heard the clack-clack sound of gears; the long bridge was rising from the lava.
"Want to run? Too late!"
Rykard finally moved.
Suppressing the extreme greed in his heart, he leaped hundreds of meters, landing steadily in the center of the bridge, ignoring even the scorching lava on the bridge surface, and raised his hands toward the charging Throne. This was, of course, not a French military salute. A mass of lava appeared in his palms, and he flung it directly.
"Ancient incantation of Mt. Gelmir?"
Seeing this basin-sized, scorching fireball, Throne stopped and jumped back. Boom—
The fireball exploded, spraying scorching lava in all directions, which sizzled when it splashed onto his armor. Throne turned his head, saw the rapier enlarging in his eyes, and the enemies swarming over, but he laughed instead.
"Mm, it's good that you've come, Ranni!"
White ice mist gathered behind him.
The Godskin Noble, which had already rushed to the front, hurriedly lowered its head, only to feel an intense chill surge over its head. Turning its head, it saw a massive ice spear. It was over ten meters wide and over a hundred meters long, with dozens of people frozen inside.
At the tip was the Fire Prelate; he was holding his great hammer levelly, his breastplate already caved in, and he was pinned against the rock wall, unable to move.
"Lunar Princess?"
The Godskin Noble was clearly very knowledgeable about the demigods. It saw a spark streak across the sky, and along its flight path, continuous lava exploded. Boom boom boom boom...
The massive ice spear was blasted into fragments of various sizes, but a purple light emerged, turning the ice chunks into meteors that crashed down with a rumble. The Godskin Noble instantly ignited with black flame, wanting to contend with these ice crystals, yet it felt a strong pressure strike, and its entire body stiffened.
"You, it's time to die."
The voice came from the side.
It turned its head and saw the heavy-armored knight appear beside it, his pupils turning golden. Swish—Ding—
Forcing itself free from the pressure, the rapier struck Throne's breastplate, but the latter tilted his body slightly, deflecting the blade tip, and slashed down with crossed swords.
"Night Moon Slash!"
Whoosh—
The left hand was fire, igniting the robe made of skin; the right hand was moon, slashing into the charred robe and passing out from the Noble's crotch. Sliced into four segments with one strike. Throne turned around without even looking. In front of him, ice mist condensed into an ice wall several meters thick.
Five lava balls bombarded it simultaneously, and the splashing lava was rapidly melting the ice wall. This coordination was extremely tacit; the two seemed to be joined as one.
"Do you still need my help?"
Ranni's phantom was right beside him, just like the second face of a doll.
"Don't rush, let's test it out first."
Throne shook his head and jumped back to avoid the lava.
This was his second time confronting a true demigod head-on. Rykard was clearly incomparable to Godrick; even without merging with the great serpent, he was enough to beat the latter into oblivion. Without transforming into that giant serpent, his power seemed less terrifying, but the sliver of rationality he maintained also made him harder to deal with.
Furthermore—
—I don't have the Serpent-Hunter spear! With the tips of his feet touching the ground, Throne counter-charged again, but just as he stepped onto the bridge, his entire person vanished.
"Jumping around, go to hell!"
Rykard turned around, saw Throne, who had used Starlight Leap to appear behind him, and slammed his hands onto the bridge surface.
"Roaring Lava!!"
His whole body seemed to have turned into an erupting volcano. Lava over ten meters high formed a giant wave, sweeping in all directions. The poor snake-men who were pursuing him turned into charcoal on the spot. Sizzle—
A beam of azure light slammed into the lava, drilling a hole through it.
The Dark Moon Greatsword immediately followed, passing through this hole, causing Rykard to turn his head to the side. But before he could let the giant lava wave sweep away, a sharp pain struck his side. Throne raised his right hand, gripped the greatsword that flew back, and gave it a light flick, scattering some blood. When he saw Rykard in the center of the lava, his eyelid twitched.
His waist had been severed, with only a layer of skin remaining to connect it. However, countless granules of flesh grew out at the wound; they writhed like earthworms and then linked together. In the blink of an eye, Rykard, who had been cut at the waist, was restored to his original state. The robe split into two, revealing the tightly wrapped lower body.
He saw that the pair of thick legs had already fused together, the surface covered in fine scales. Rather than human legs, it was more like a snake's tail.
"Rykard, demigods do not have this ability, and neither Caria nor Radagon have the bloodline of a serpent."
Throne's face carried a sneer, then he tensed his muscles. If his guess was correct, Rykard's limit of patience should have been reached.
The strong man buried his head, then he slowly twisted his neck. His head rotated a mysterious 180 degrees, revealing the back of his head. His dark red hair fluttered, then his scalp and bone split open, and from the sticky liquid, a snake head grew out. He raised his hands, grasped the sides of his head, and just pulled upward—
Pop.
The neck was pulled straight out, stretching like a noodle, making Throne gasp in shock. The great serpent the Tarnished saw at least had a kind of evil aesthetic, but what he was seeing now was enough to make one's SAN value plummet; even Ranni's phantom had her mouth wide open. This was no demigod; it was clearly a monster.
Its existence was meant to blaspheme everything, turning all beautiful words into a joke. A pressure ten times stronger than Godrick's rushed toward him, causing Throne to grip his sword tightly as he watched Rykard, whose whole body was rolling with flesh granules and still constantly mutating.
"Do you see, Ranni? This is no longer your brother, nor is it the Praetor; it is Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy, and this truth—"