[Inorin's Note: Hey everyone, quick apology for the quiet week here! Over the last few days, we've been working behind the scenes to officially launch our own dedicated reading site.
Moving forward, Elysian Reads (elysianreads[.]com) is going to be our primary hub for all novel releases. (P.S. Just swap the [.] with a regular dot . to open the link!) It's packed with some really neat custom features designed to make reading way more enjoyable.
That being said, Webnovel isn't getting left behind. I'll be dropping a mass release here shortly to clear out the missed chapters, and our regular updates will be right back on track. Thanks a ton for hanging in there with me!]
Chapter 207: A Deadly Battle Against a Thousand Foes
His attacks were a tempest of fury and destruction, each swing of his spear carrying the terrifying power to sunder the very earth.
Locked in a ferocious duel with him was his close friend, the Chrysos Heirs warrior Mydei. Transformed, his body was sheathed in crimson blood crystals, his aura impossibly fierce. Each of his punches condensed immense power, the crystalline shards of his fists clashing directly against the Spear of Divine Retribution, erupting in dazzling bursts of light and concussive shockwaves.
Remarkably, the terrifying aftermath of their battle—force potent enough to level mountains—merely sent intense ripples across the surrounding golden Geo barrier. The energy was then silently neutralized, absorbed by that incredibly stable power without a single trace leaking out to harm the ruins of Hanging Edge City.
At the edge of the array of stone steles, a steady figure stood in silent observation.
Zhongli watched the devastating battle within the arena with a placid expression, his arms crossed over his chest. His golden eyes were unmoving, as if he were merely observing an ordinary contest. An air of deep reassurance emanated from him naturally.
Phainon landed swiftly beside Zhongli, his voice tight with urgency. "Mr. Zhongli! Why don't you—"
His gaze shot toward the imperiled Mydei, his meaning clear: Why not offer assistance? With the power Zhongli had displayed, suppressing Nikador seemed like it would be no difficult task.
Zhongli did not turn his head, his focus remaining fixed on the two combatants. His voice was as steady and calm as ever. "It is not that I am unwilling to lend a hand. Rather, Lord Mydei explicitly stated that he desires to have a complete reckoning with his god here."
He paused, a flicker of understanding in his ancient eyes. "This is a warrior's resolve and his choice. I believe his wishes should be respected."
Phainon was stunned into silence by his words.
He looked at the figure battling so valiantly against the colossal Titan in the arena, a complex glint flashing in his eyes. He understood the disappointment and heartbreak churning in Mydei's heart. The god who once most yearned for glory, who represented the very ideal of strife, had now fallen—corrupted by the Black Tide into a mad entity that would stop at nothing to achieve its goals.
The sheer disparity and sorrow of it all were enough to fill any warrior who once believed in him with unbearable indignation. Even the Titan, the one most skilled in combat and presumably most capable of preserving his true self, could not escape the fate of corruption. It was a grim proof of just how terrifying the Black Tide truly was.
Taking a deep breath, Phainon cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted toward the arena, "Mydei! Do you need help?!" His voice penetrated the barrier of stone steles and reached the heart of the fierce battlefield.
Within the arena, Mydei had just narrowly avoided the sweeping blade of Nikador's spear. The Spear of Divine Retribution, humming with terrifying destructive energy, passed inches from his face as he executed an extremely risky backward lean. The gust of wind from its passage was sharp enough to slice off a few strands of his hair.
Seizing the fleeting opportunity, Mydei unleashed a powerful punch. Crimson blood-crystal energy erupted, smashing heavily against Nikador's breastplate with a dull, resonant thud. The impact temporarily shoved the massive Titan back several steps, creating a sliver of distance.
Hearing Phainon's shout, Mydei gasped for breath and roared without looking back, "Deliverer! Did no one ever tell you not to interrupt people when they're in the middle of a fight?! It's distracting!"
Phainon was instantly rendered speechless. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head and offered a sheepish smile; indeed, he had been inconsiderate.
Mydei, keeping a close watch on Nikador as the Titan adjusted his stance and began gathering his energy once more, spoke quickly. "Enough talk! How are things on your end? Have you found the secret to this guy's immortality?" This was the most crucial question.
At that moment, Nikador seemed to be brewing an even stronger attack, divine power gathering around him in a furious vortex. He did not immediately pounce, which granted Mydei and Phainon a brief window to communicate.
Phainon immediately shouted back, his words concise, "We have a lead! Stelle found a guide named Mimi who can collect the memories of Hanging Edge City to recreate the past. She's looking for clues now!"
"Good!" Mydei's voice carried a clear note of excitement. "Then I'll push harder here and hold on a little longer! You guys hurry up!"
He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice rose, filled with a surging battle intent that seemed to shake the very air. "As for help? Not needed yet! Deliverer, and Mr. Zhongli! You two just watch from there! Witness how the fearless warriors of Hanging Edge City fight to the very end!"
His words were bold and firm, as if he were truly nothing more than a pure warrior, eager for an honorable duel with a powerful enemy.
However, Mydei's true feelings were not entirely so simple.
On one hand, he genuinely desired to have this final reckoning with the corrupted deity he once pursued. This was his battle. On the other hand, he also had an ulterior motive. He hoped that Phainon, and especially the unfathomably powerful and miraculously skilled Mr. Zhongli, could use this opportunity to observe Nikador more closely.
In a life-or-death struggle, an opponent's methods of power circulation, their energy source, and even their potential weaknesses often become much clearer. Mydei was not the single-minded battle maniac that many perceived him to be; he had received strict military training and understood the vital importance of strategy and observation. An excellent commander could not afford to be brainless. Allowing these two powerful allies to deeply understand Nikador might add the crucial weight needed for their ultimate victory.
Just then, Nikador's charge was complete.
A roar, as if from the deepest abyss, erupted from his throat. He clasped his hands together, and a colossal phantom of the Blade of Divine Retribution rapidly coalesced before him. Although its scale was far from the hundreds-of-meters-long true Blade hanging over the city, this energy greatsword, dozens of meters in length, still exuded a terrifying, world-destroying pressure. Its tip pointed directly at Mydei, locking onto his very essence.
Mydei's pupils constricted. The blood-crystal power throughout his body surged wildly as he prepared to resist, but he knew full well that the power of this strike far surpassed anything before it. Even if he could withstand it, he would likely be left half-dead, forced to revive once more.
Just at that critical moment—
Zhongli, who had been standing by in silence, finally moved.
He did not shift his feet. He merely loosened his crossed arms slightly and casually pressed his right hand forward in a gentle gesture.
The eight towering stone steles suddenly emitted a low, unified hum. The golden divine light flowing over their surfaces instantly surged. An invisible yet vast, cosmos-spanning pressure—as heavy as the earth itself—descended upon Nikador.
The Titan, who was fully focused on maintaining and swinging down the phantom Blade of Divine Retribution, suddenly froze, as if trapped in an invisible mire of amber. The colossal energy phantom flickered and twisted violently before emitting an unwilling wail. It was forcibly interrupted, shattering under the terrifying pressure into a shower of scattered light particles that filled the sky.
Zhongli slowly lowered his hand, his gaze calmly fixed on the arena. His voice, as steady as ever, reached everyone's ears with perfect clarity. "I have no intention of interfering in your conflict. This action is merely to maintain a relative fairness; a technique charged for too long goes against the principles of proper competition."
Mydei was stunned for a moment before he understood. His estimation of Zhongli rose once again.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the churning blood in his chest, and spoke with solemn gratitude in Zhongli's direction. "Thank you!"
He said no more, his gratitude etched into his heart.
The next moment, battle intent reignited in his eyes. He looked at the obstructed and furiously roaring Nikador, shouting, "Again!"
The crimson figure once more transformed into a streak of light, charging toward the god he once believed in.
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