The Snake God with SSS Rank Evolution System

Chapter 399: The Last Stand

Hans’s golden aura surged as he pressed the attack, his greatsword carving a blazing arc through the air. The blade was wreathed in golden light, and each strike carried the weight of his will.

"[Tyrant’s Blade Style: Ironstorm]!"

Alice’s body twisted, flowing like shadow as she evaded the first strike. The second came faster, a horizontal slash aimed at her ribs. She ducked under it, her claws raking toward Hans’s exposed side.

But Hans had already anticipated the move. His greatsword reversed direction mid-swing, deflecting her claws with a sharp, ringing CLANG that sent sparks showering across the blood-soaked earth.

Alice’s eyes widened.

"You—!"

Hans didn’t pause. He drove forward, his shoulder slamming into her chest and sending her staggering back.

"Cast Formation! NOW!"

Neil’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

"All mages! Restriction spells—FIRE!"

The mages reacted instantly, their hands weaving intricate patterns as green energy erupted from their palms. Vines and roots burst from the earth, wrapping around Alice’s ankles, her wrists, her waist, anchoring her in place. She struggled, her claws tearing through the vines, but more kept coming, relentless and suffocating.

"Tch—!"

The attack mages didn’t waste the opening. Lightning and fire surged toward Alice in a devastating barrage.

Azrynn’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding.

"Not a chance!"

Her bow sang, and a volley of silver arrows streaked through the air, intercepting the incoming spells. Each arrow struck a projectile mid-flight, detonating them in a shower of harmless sparks and dissipating flames.

The mages’ eyes widened, their concentration broken. Azrynn moved before they could react, closing the distance in a blur of motion. Her blade flashed, severing the vines binding Alice’s limbs. She cut three more, then a fourth, and the roots began to recede.

Azrynn’s voice was sharp, direct.

"Are you okay?"

Alice’s tail lashed, her dark violet eyes blazing with cold fury as she pulled herself free of the last of the vines.

"I’m fine."

But her gaze, when it met Hans’s, held a new edge.

Hans’s expression hardened, his greatsword raised, his golden aura flickering with exhaustion. His voice came out low, but steady.

"The cat’s still alive. And the elf’s faster than I expected."

Neil’s voice was tight, his eyes fixed on Azrynn’s swift approach.

"She’s coming this way. What are your orders, sir?"

Hans’s hand tightened on his blade, his voice carrying a note of grim determination.

"We hold. We’ve already forced that cat to retreat, and she seems to be out of tricks—and now that we’ve faced that elf woman, I don’t think she’s as strong as the other one."

The soldiers behind him, those who still stood, tightened their formation, their weapons raised. Neil’s voice rang out, rallying them.

"The commander’s right! We stand our ground! We can still survive this fight! We are the last line against these monsters!"

Alice’s dark violet eyes swept over the remaining Solarian soldiers, her lips curling into a cold, predatory sneer. Her voice dripped with disdain, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Lowly creatures. They still believe they can win?"

She tilted her head, her tail swaying lazily behind her as she addressed Azrynn without looking away from the soldiers.

"Hey, Az. Can you buy me some time?"

Azrynn’s fingers curled around her dagger, her yellow eyes fixed on the wounded soldiers with cold, clinical assessment. Her voice was calm, almost dismissive.

"Against wounded soldiers like these? I can hold them easily. Just tell me when you’re ready."

Alice’s smile sharpened, a flicker of dark satisfaction passing through her eyes.

"Good. I’m going to make them regret underestimating me."

Azrynn’s aura shifted, seeped outward like smoke, thin and insidious, curling around her form like a living shroud. The air around her grew thick, heavy with the weight of her presence.

Neil’s voice cut through the tension, sharp with alarm.

"Commander—that elf is preparing something!"

Hans’s hand tightened on his greatsword, his golden aura flickering as he assessed the situation. His voice was low, steady, carrying the weight of command.

"We focus on the weaker one first. Take her down quickly, and we can regroup."

Neil nodded, his grip tightening on his blade. His voice was quiet, but firm.

"Understood. But Commander—don’t overdo it. Your wounds..."

Hans didn’t acknowledge the concern. His gaze remained fixed on Azrynn, his greatsword already shifting into a guard position.

"I know what I’m doing."

The soldiers behind them steeled themselves, their formation tightening as they braced for Azrynn’s approach.

Azrynn moved without hesitation, her form a blur of motion as she closed the distance on Hans. Her dagger swept toward his throat in a clean, precise arc—a strike meant to end the fight quickly.

Hans’s greatsword came up just in time, the blade catching Azrynn’s dagger with a sharp CLANG. The impact jarred his arm, and he felt the wound in his side tear further—a hot, sharp pain that made his vision swim for just a moment.

Azrynn’s yellow eyes narrowed. She saw the flicker of pain cross his face, the slight falter in his stance. She pressed the advantage, her dagger flowing into a series of rapid, brutal strikes—each one aimed at the gaps in his guard, the weak points in his armor, the places where his wounds were already bleeding.

Hans gritted his teeth, his greatsword moving to block, parry, deflect—but he was slowing. His movements were growing heavier, more desperate. The golden aura around him flickered, struggling to maintain its form.

Neil saw his commander faltering. He surged forward, his blade already raised.

"Commander—!"

But before he could reach them, Alice’s voice cut through the chaos, cold and commanding.

"Azrynn. Fall back."

Azrynn didn’t hesitate. She disengaged in a single, fluid motion, her body flowing backward as she leaped clear of the engagement, landing in a low crouch a few paces away.

Alice’s void energy was already gathering—a massive, churning sphere of dark violet energy that pulsed with devouring light. The void energy condensed, twisting into the shape of a massive cat. Alice’s smile sharpened as she hurled it forward.

"[Midnight Hunt]."

She hurled the massive void cat forward. It shot through the air like a living missile, its jaws wide, its claws extended, its body a storm of condensed void energy that tore through the remaining soldiers like paper. Their screams swallowed by the roar of the attack.

Hans’s golden aura flared—a desperate, defiant surge of light that pushed back against the void cat’s advance. But the aura was failing, flickering like a candle in a storm.

Neil grabbed Hans’s arm, pulling him away from the epicenter of the blast, his voice strained with desperation.

"Commander—we need to retreat! NOW!"

Hans’s jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on the approaching void cat. His voice was low, steady, carrying a weight of grim finality.

"Go, Neil. Leave me."

Neil’s eyes blazed with defiance.

"I’m not leaving you behind!"

Hans’s voice sharpened, a crack of authority cutting through his exhaustion.

"That’s an order, Neil. Get the wounded and go."

Neil’s throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to refuse, to stand beside his commander until the end. But Hans’s eyes were already fixed on the void cat, his greatsword raised, his golden aura flaring one last time.

Neil turned and ran, his boots pounding against the scorched earth as he fled toward the treeline.

Hans stood alone against the void cat. His voice was quiet, almost to himself.

"To the end."

The void cat descended.

The impact was cataclysmic. A massive shockwave of dark violet energy erupted from the point of contact, sending waves of destruction rippling outward. The mages’ barrier, hastily erected, shattered like glass. The soldiers who had been regrouping were thrown back, their bodies broken, their screams swallowed by the roar of the void.

When the dust cleared, the clearing was silent. Bodies lay scattered across the scorched earth, their armor cracked and blackened. The only figure still standing was Hans.

His golden aura was gone. His greatsword was shattered, the blade broken in two. Blood poured from a dozen wounds, staining his armor dark red. He swayed on his feet, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

But he was still standing.

Alice’s dark violet eyes narrowed as she studied him.

"He’s still alive. That aura of his... it must have absorbed most of the damage."

Azrynn’s yellow eyes flicked toward the treeline where Neil had disappeared.

"One of them got away. Should I pursue?"

Alice’s tail swayed lazily, her dark violet eyes fixed on the broken form of Hans.

"Go. We don’t need witnesses spreading tales."

Azrynn nodded once and vanished into the shadows, her footsteps silent as she moved to hunt down the fleeing soldier.

Hans watched her go, his chest heaving, his shattered greatsword still clutched in his trembling hand. He tried to move but his body refused to obey. His wounds were too deep, his strength too far gone.

’No... I can’t let them chase Neil. I can’t let them hunt him down like an animal.’

His fingers tightened around the broken hilt. The pain in his side flared, sharp and blinding, but he forced himself to ignore it.

’I’m the commander. It’s my duty to protect my men. If I can’t stop them, at least I can slow them down. Give Neil a chance to escape.’

He pushed himself upright, his arms trembling, his vision swimming. The golden aura that had once blazed around him was gone—flickered out like a dying ember. But he still had his body. He still had his will.

’I won’t let them pass. Not while I’m still breathing.’

Then the explosion came.

A thunderous roar echoed from the demon side of the battlefield, and Hans’s head snapped toward the source. His eyes widened as he saw Adam emerge from the chaos—his wings spread wide, the Crown of the Hollow Glutton blazing on his brow, his body half-transformed into a draconic hybrid of scale and shadow. Scales covered his torso, his arms, his face. His eyes burned with a hunger that seemed to devour the very light around him.

Hans felt it—a presence so overwhelming that his mind struggled to comprehend it. The aura radiating from Adam pressed down on him like a physical weight, vast and ancient beyond anything he had ever faced.

Hans’s knees buckled. His shattered greatsword slipped from his fingers, clattering against the scorched earth.

The weight of Adam’s presence pressed down on him like a collapsing sky. Hans’s vision blurred. His heart seized. His body, already broken, gave out entirely.

He crumpled to the ground, his eyes still fixed on the creature before him, his final sight swallowed by a darkness that offered no mercy.