Chapter 975: Chapter 550: My Power Surpasses Yours!
There might be guys out there qualified to go head‑to‑head with Lance in terms of Power of Flesh and Blood, but this thing definitely isn’t one of them.
That flesh corruption that’s such a nightmare for everyone else was a joke in Lance’s eyes; he even tossed out a taunt.
"My power is above yours!"
With that, Lance easily shrugged off the force trying to twist his body, and in the two short seconds he’d stopped, those Heretics actually tried to rush past him.
Lance could only temporarily give up on the Missionary and swing his blade toward those Heretic Warriors; tonight, not a single one was getting past him into the outpost.
The Missionary was also baffled that his Spell had no effect, but he likewise wasn’t about to let Lance keep slaughtering; he whipped that tail at Lance like a Meteor Hammer.
Vicious Lash!
Lance wasn’t about to suffer twice in the same way, and there was no need to talk about honor when dealing with Heretics; his other hand pulled out the pistol and he pulled the trigger without even aiming.
Up against Supernatural Power, a musket’s firepower was a bit underwhelming; that shot only slightly broke the Missionary’s movement.
That was enough for Lance; Wolf Fang exploded into even greater speed in his hand, and he reversed his grip and slashed.
His target wasn’t the Missionary himself, but that tail.
He didn’t clash with the Bone Spur head‑on at all, instead chopping at the fleshy joint where it connected.
Half the Flesh, along with that Meteor Hammer‑like tip, snapped clean off; Lance didn’t even pause for half a second, driving off his feet and lunging forward, wanting to take this guy down while he had the chance.
But if the Missionary were that simple he wouldn’t have stepped out; his lower jaw suddenly split open as if torn apart, and a bizarre tongue shot out from within at terrifying speed.
Or, more accurately, a "sword" made of Flesh.
That move scared Lance into an abrupt halt; he leaned back and slashed the tongue apart, only then dodging disaster.
Once he had time to react, Lance couldn’t help but suck in a breath; if he’d been any closer, he wouldn’t have been able to dodge even if he’d reacted in time.
Why was he so rattled?
He looked up: a few droplets of fluid from that tongue had splashed across the visor of his helmet and had already eaten out a bunch of pits, his field of view suddenly wide open.
If that had jabbed into him and injected corrosive venom, he’d have to burn through a lot of Spiritual Essence to heal it, even with his self‑recovery.
With both tail and tongue chopped off by Lance, the Missionary felt the crisis closing in; he raised both hands high to call down his god’s power, and the severed tail sprang up and devoured a Heretic beside him.
Sacrifice!
But an even more horrifying scene unfolded: not even the red robe could hide the Flesh’s abnormal writhing; the next second the Missionary’s body shot up, bursting his clothes apart and finally revealing what was underneath.
A monster of twisted Flesh, the glimpse you got in a hurried glance would be enough to drive an ordinary person insane.
To Lance, though, it didn’t even warrant a reaction; you see enough of this crap and it all looks the same.
He still didn’t rush in blindly; he couldn’t leave this area, and he was being cautious against an unfamiliar enemy.
But he also wasn’t going to just stand there and let the Missionary transform into a Second Phase.
So he stopped playing around and pulled out something big and thick.
A copper‑cast gun barrel was braced against his waist; Lance had gotten fed up with how muskets were falling behind the current combat pace, so he’d had this hand cannon custom‑made.
The caliber was even bigger than a six-pounder cannon, but since it didn’t need to hit targets a thousand yards out, the powder charge could be reduced, which meant the barrel walls didn’t need to be as thick, cutting down the overall weight.
Otherwise, how the hell was Lance supposed to pick it up?
He planted his feet, lit the fuse, and aimed the muzzle at the transforming Missionary; the specially shortened fuse was triggered in an instant.
Cannon shot!
"Boom!"
The thunderous blast drowned out most of the other sounds; at least Lance couldn’t hear anything else—his head was just echoing with the roar.
Hugging the barrel, Lance felt the massive recoil trying to drag him backward; if he hadn’t braced for it, he probably wouldn’t have stayed on his feet.
"Fuck! *Cough, cough*~" Lance cursed as he stowed the barrel away, raised a hand to sweep aside the smoke in front of him, and used Flesh Reconstruction to smooth out the ringing in his ears and the torn muscles.
That move was cool as hell, but who the hell can tank that all the time?
When the smoke finally cleared, Lance saw that the Missionary’s twisted flesh‑formed chest had been blasted open with a hole big enough to shove a hand through.
Lance casually tossed two grenades over there.
Explosions from gunpowder weapons didn’t do that much damage to Heretics, but they were insanely insulting; they could trigger some of their contingencies and briefly stun the other Heretics.
Mainly, it was for crowd control.
It was just that the Missionary was indeed at the end of his rope; if Sacrifice were that easy to use, he wouldn’t have waited till he was badly injured.
All Supernatural Power has a price; getting that ritual cut off by Lance’s cannon meant he had to suffer the backlash.
Watching the Missionary’s Flesh gradually spiral out of control, Lance charged in with his blade.
The writhing, runaway mass of Flesh reminded Lance of something; purple eyes split open everywhere, seemingly with a will of their own, observing him.
Of course Lance noticed; he grinned and brought his blade down.
What the fuck are you looking at!
"No! Don’t take away my Ascension!"
The Missionary’s final consciousness dissolved into one last wail, but the Sacrifice had been triggered; Void Devourer didn’t give a damn about reason and crushed the Heretic’s last hope, while also granting him complete release.
He’d been a pretty capable Heretic no matter how you looked at it, and Lance was still waiting to see if he’d drop any loot.
