477 Frenzy
Lumian felt a brief moment of surprise before taking a shot in the dark.
The why and what of it didn’t matter now. Those questions could wait until after dealing with Gardner Martin and General Philip or finding a way to slip past them. There might be a chance to escape this place.
At the fringes of the wilderness, Gardner Martin’s attempts to flush out Franca from her invisibility failed, even after a series of explosions.
His former lover had vanished to some unknown spot.
Being a Demoness of Pleasure, Franca relied on her Assassin abilities, leaving no footprints, masking her scent and spiritual aura. It made her a formidable challenge to track, countering a Hunter’s knack for gathering environmental intel.
Gardner Martin, donned in silver-white full-body armor, kept on the move. Familiar with the Demoness pathway’s traits and abilities, he knew that, having ascended to Pleasure, Franca didn’t need blood, hair, or nails for her curses. Reflecting him into mirrors and enveloping him in black flames would do the trick. He couldn’t stand still for more than three seconds, to prevent himself from being reflected in the mirror.
As he swiftly maneuvered, Gardner Martin glanced at Philip and Anthony, the information broker. He noticed the latter lying on the ground, clutching his head and trembling. Anthony sporadically used Placate on himself, resigning from resistance. Philip’s black cloak expanded slightly, and crimson, nearly white flaming ravens materialized beside him, as if preparing for a grand sacrifice.
Observing the scene, Gardner Martin paid no heed to the ongoing battle. He raised his right hand and lowered his visor.
A broadsword, aglow with condensed light, materialized in Gardner Martin’s grip, casting a radiant and holy Sunrise Gleam over a vast expanse. Its brilliance dispelled illusions, compelling shadows to retreat and revealing Franca’s ponytailed form more than ten meters behind him.
This was the power of a Sequence 6 Dawn Paladin of the Warrior pathway.
The power emanated from Gardner Martin’s silver armor, a numbered Sealed Artifact bestowed by the authorities. He had acquired it in an operation a few years back, slaying two Purifiers of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church and claiming the armor from their fallen bodies.
“Number: 247.
“Name: Pride Armor.
“Danger Grade: 2. Dangerous. Use with care and moderation. It can only be applied for operations that require more than three people, or by deacons and diocesan bishops.
“Security classification: Official Purifiers and above.
“Sealing Method: Place it in a dark chamber and select physically strong humans to guard them with a rotation every three hours.
“Description: Late into the war between the Loen Kingdom and the Feysac Empire, a plethora of meteors descended from the sky, causing widespread catastrophes.
“This armor was discovered in a ruined building in the suburbs of Port LeSeur. The humans inside had met a brutal end.
“Through experimentation, it bestows upon the wearer the might of a giant. It blankets an area of 48 meters in Sunrise Gleam. These rays dispel illusions, erase shadows, and nullify invisibility effects. They also affect Wraiths and Shadows, diminishing their peculiarities and even weakening evil spirits.
“It possesses decent defensive capabilities and can be damaged but regenerates slowly. Depending on the extent of the damage, recovery can range from half an hour to a day. For detailed data, refer to Appendix 2.
“The wearer’s combat skills see a significant boost, accompanied by heightened arrogance. They hold disdain for those standing behind them and targets concealed in the darkness or invisible.
“The criteria for determining one’s physique are inconsistent, sometimes very high, sometimes low. Initial findings suggest a correlation with the armor’s condition and the surrounding environment. Most humans with regular exercise or those who rely on potions to enhance their physique pass the assessment without incident. For exceptions, it was later discovered they suffered from undetected serious illnesses or indulged excessively in the past two days.
“No matter who you are, caution is warranted when positioned behind this armor, though attacks don’t always occur.
“Similarly, the wearer is vulnerable to its attacks when using other mystical items. Experimental results show heightened reactions when facing items from the Evernight pathway and the Earth pathway.
“The wearer of the armor eventually experiences varying degrees of betrayal, irrespective of whether they still wear the item.
“At night, this armor is very quiet, exhibiting minimal aggressiveness. However, under a moonlit sky, its demeanor becomes notably irritable, reaching maximal offensiveness.
“The highest level of experimental subjects is Sequence 5…
“Appendix 1: The wearer of the armor grows taller to varying degrees. Multiple wearings do not stack.
“Appendix 2…”
Under the influence of the Sealed Artifact, 2—247, Franca materialized.
Gardner Martin, wearing a visor, hesitated briefly before slashing with the radiant broadsword in his hand.
Simultaneously, a multitude of crimson, nearly white Fire Ravens condensed around him.
Surrounded by crimson Fire Ravens, General Philip locked eyes with the prone Anthony Reid. With a slight lift of his chin, he declared, “Accept your fate.”
Anthony sensed the imminent danger but found himself powerless to resist. Trembling, memories of that haunting night flooded his mind, making it difficult to put up any resistance.
However, as he recalled General Philip’s words about becoming a sacrifice, the tragic fate of his comrades, and the years of investigation, anger ignited within Anthony.
It’s him!
He’s the one responsible for harming my comrades, those rough but endearing individuals, and my companions who once had my back!
Suddenly, Lumian’s earlier question echoed in Anthony’s thoughts.
“Up to this day, do you still wrestle with the fear from that night, the sounds of sudden gunshots? Do you truly possess the courage and determination to press on?”
Anthony remembered his response:
“Perhaps I perished in that attack. What remains is an avenging spirit, relentless in its pursuit of truth and retribution.
“I can be destroyed, but I can’t give up…”
That’s right. I should have died long ago. My sole purpose in life is revenge. And today, my true enemy stands before me!
Why should I be afraid? I’m not even afraid of death. Why fear gunshots, explosions, or being a sacrifice?
This time, I chose to stay in Trier, not to flee from potential catastrophe but to make amends for my regrets.
Now, the opportunity has presented itself!
The flames of revenge roared within Anthony Reid’s heart. He lifted his gaze to meet General Philip’s slightly reddened, hatred-filled dark-brown eyes—once his superior’s superior’s superior.
Go to hell! Anthony cursed inwardly as he unleashed a Psychiatrist’s Frenzy.
This ability could manipulate the emotions or destabilize the mental state of the target, pushing them into a frenzied state and inflicting severe mental damage.
In some cases, it could even lead the target to lose control.
Just as General Philip prepared to unleash a swarm of Fire Ravens, a surge of Danger Premonition hit him. Before he could react, the intended sacrifice raised his head, locking eyes with him, bloodshot dark-brown eyes burning with intensity.
With a buzzing sound, Philip’s head snapped back, his thoughts thrown into disarray.
Ever since embracing the Goddess of Fate, originally being a Sequence 5, he, armed with the corresponding knowledge, could keenly sense shifts in his personality and thoughts. His body had undergone gradual changes as the power of the boons increased.
For Philip, mentally prepared as he was, this was acceptable. One concern nagged at him—his mental state had become unpredictable. Sometimes rational, sometimes fanatical, sometimes cold, and sometimes calm. His behavior was capricious.
It mirrored those great existences.
General Philip’s mind felt like a storm had been unleashed within it. His facial skin swelled, and his pale-white hair crinkled, resembling someone submerged in water for days.
Invisible threads materialized from each pore, tinged with a faint mercurial hue, giving Philip’s flesh the appearance of being ablaze with flames.
General Philip briefly succumbed to Frenzy.
At that moment, a figure materialized behind him.
It was Lumian, dressed in a partially tucked white shirt, brown pants, and oil painting-like black leather shoes.
Recognizing Franca’s voice and sensing the onset of the battle, Lumian didn’t immediately rush out to provide assistance. Instead, he opted to wait for the right opportunity.
Aware that his current spirituality dictated a single optimal choice, Lumian needed to eliminate either Gardner Martin or General Philip swiftly. Franca, Jenna, and Anthony could then join forces to handle the remaining adversary.
Choosing a target was no easy decision for Lumian.
Gardner Martin, corrupted by 13 Avenue du Marché and the Commanding Officer of the Iron and Blood Cross Order, possessed numerous peculiarities. Lumian couldn’t guarantee that a combination of punches would conclusively finish him. General Philip, with his boon involving fate, might sense danger ahead of time, making Lumian’s surprise attack unlikely to succeed.
Both options carried substantial risks, forcing Lumian to exercise restraint and wait patiently.
As long as Franca and Anthony remained alive for the time being, Lumian would hold back.
Patience was a fundamental quality of a Hunter, equally crucial for a Conspirer.
However, Lumian’s waiting wasn’t blind. Relying on Jenna’s mirror magic and the shattered mirrors in the wilderness, he observed the situation closely. Prepared to intervene and save Anthony, Lumian found the opportune moment when Anthony turned the tables on Philip with a Frenzy.
This was an opportunity!
Lumian gazed at General Philip, struggling in his frenzied state, and coldly exclaimed, “Hmph!”
Two beams of white light shot out and struck Philip.
The Deceased’s eyes lost focus suddenly, and his body swayed, on the brink of collapse.
Lumian had already raised his right hand, bent his pinky and ring finger, and aimed at the back of General Philip’s head, mimicking a revolver.
Bang! With an added sound effect in his mind and a slight lean backward, a crimson fireball rapidly compressed and shot out from the tips of his index and middle fingers, hurtling towards the target like a bullet.
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