Home What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad! Chapter 181: The Grim Reaper on the Battlefield

What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

Chapter 181: The Grim Reaper on the Battlefield
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The moment the Demonic Wolves launched their charge, the defenders atop the fortress walls also unleashed their third volley to cover them.

“Demonic Wolves! They're Demonic Wolves!”

The Earl's men had never expected the enemy to proactively open the fortress gates and send out a charging force—and not cavalry, but a pack of Magical Beasts!

Caught off guard, they hastily responded, enduring the third volley while opening fire on the charging Demonic Wolf pack.

The Demonic Wolves at the front were struck one after another, yet not a single one fell. Instead, the pain only further stimulated their ferocity.

As Third-Level Magical Beasts, Demonic Wolves possessed no special abilities, nor venom or curses. Their strength lay purely in their physical prowess. They possessed exceptional self-healing capabilities and tremendous resistance to poison and curses, making them extremely difficult to kill quickly with ordinary firearms.

The Earl's front-line formation was pushed into even greater disorder. There were twenty-nine Demonic Wolves in total. Aside from those that had originally lived within the Labyrinth, the remaining half had been created by Leon inside it.

Accelerated by Magic Potions, although these Demonic Wolves had not yet reached adulthood, they were already as agile and ferocious as leopards, more than capable of serving as battlefield forces.

Behind the leading Demonic Wolves came six Petrifying Lizards, relentlessly biting any enemy before them and injecting venom capable of inducing paralysis and petrification.

A Transcendent blessed by the Creator spotted a Demonic Wolf charging toward him. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled a paper packet that struck the wolf. A cloud of powder enveloped it, and with a snap of his fingers, the floating dust ignited into flames, instantly engulfing the Demonic Wolf's entire body. It let out a miserable howl before collapsing to the ground.

“Good!”

Just as he prepared to aim at another Demonic Wolf, the ground beneath his feet suddenly trembled, and the earth beside him bulged upward.

The next instant, a Magical Beast resembling a giant serpent burst out of the ground beside him, opened its mouth, and sprayed acid mist directly onto his face before lunging forward with a bite. Its sharp dragon fangs effortlessly pierced through his armor.

The attacker was a Drake hatchling. Even one born only recently still posed the threat level of a Third-Level Magical Beast.

Besides the Drakes, Demonic Wolves, and Petrifying Lizards, the Earl's soldiers soon realized that countless small Magical Beasts had somehow appeared around their feet. Venomous Giant Scorpions and Giant Spiders constantly attempted to climb onto their bodies, using poisonous fangs and stingers to attack every exposed patch of flesh.

Even more dangerous were the nimble Head-Hunting Rabbits. One after another, they leapt onto the soldiers, attempting to slit their vital points with the blade-like joints on their hind legs. Had most of the soldiers not been equipped with armor as fine as that worn by the Church Knight Orders, these Head-Hunting Rabbits alone would have inflicted heavy casualties. Even so, injuries continued to mount one after another.

To face the Earl's army, Leon had spared no expense with the Magical Beasts raised inside the Labyrinth. Nearly every mature Magical Beast suitable for battle had been released, jointly controlled through Rena's Blood Pact Blessing and his own power as the Lord of the Labyrinth. Anyone seeking to assault this fortress would first have to conquer the Labyrinth under his command!

When facing humanity as a common enemy, the Magical Beasts displayed unprecedented unity. Even species that had once been predator and prey joined forces against humans. The horde of Magical Beasts pouring from the fortress surged like a tidal wave, steadily pushing the battle line outward.

A Demonic Wolf tackled a musketeer and tore into him viciously. At that moment, the Earl stepped forward and swung his longsword. Though the blade was still several meters away, a silver blade of light shot from the path of his swing and sliced into the Demonic Wolf's body. Suddenly, that single blade of light split into dozens, erupting from inside the wolf's body.

The next instant, the Demonic Wolf froze.

Its body abruptly exploded into countless pieces, collapsing into a heap of shredded flesh.

“Do not retreat! Advance! Forward!!”

Clutching his cloak over his bleeding wound, the Earl raised the longsword engraved with the Sun Family Crest and roared his command.

He was already gravely wounded—injured badly enough that he should have withdrawn to the rear for emergency treatment. But with neither Bishop Beckett nor Johnny Wellman present to supervise the battle, if he did not personally hold the line, after suffering blow after blow like this, the front would collapse immediately.

The War God's Second-Tier Blessing allowed a warrior to retain combat capability even after sustaining catastrophic injuries, even surpassing their normal strength. The closer they came to death, the stronger they became.

At that moment, the Earl could clearly feel that invisible force supporting him.

It had been far too long since he had remained in a safe position. It had been many years since he had personally experienced the life-or-death tension of the battlefield, and he was no longer accustomed to it.

Still, he forcibly suppressed his fear that he might die here and continued directing the battle with sword in hand.

Their formation had never been designed with retreat in mind. Such a massive army packed onto this narrow mountain road—if they attempted a hasty withdrawal, chaos would erupt immediately, likely resulting in deadly trampling. Only by relentlessly driving the army forward could they maximize the advantages of their overwhelming numbers.

They held an absolute numerical advantage. These casualties were acceptable.

The important thing was preventing morale from suffering a catastrophic collapse.

The battle soon proved the Earl correct.

Led by the Earl himself, the Transcendents charged at the forefront, finally halting the Magical Beasts' relentless slaughter.

The covering fire from the fortress walls and the attacks of the Magical Beasts had inflicted tremendous casualties, but fresh troops from the Earl's rear ranks continually reinforced the front. Meanwhile, the number of Magical Beasts remained limited. Before long, the Earl's forces began pushing the battle line back, and the artillery reorganized for a second bombardment, blasting away another large section of the fortress wall.

“My Lord Earl, please withdraw to the rear for treatment at once!” one of his guards urged anxiously.

The Earl looked ahead.

Very few Magical Beasts remained. Their formation was already pushing the enemy back. His subordinates should be able to handle the rest.

An ordinary man would have bled to death long ago from injuries like his. The only reason he remained standing was the extraordinary physique granted by the War God's Blessing. But if he delayed treatment any longer, death would become inevitable.

At that moment, agonized screams suddenly erupted from ahead.

The Earl saw severed limbs flying through the air as blood erupted like fountains.

The fortress gates swung open.

A group of cavalry charged out, coordinating with the surviving Magical Beasts to launch another assault, tearing open yet another gap in the Earl's battle line.

Under their cover, a towering Werewolf rushed into the formation at astonishing speed, wielding an absurdly massive greatsword in a merciless harvest. Empowered by the Werewolf's monstrous strength, flesh and blood exploded wherever the blade passed.

“Leon Set!!”

The Earl's eyes nearly split with rage.

Just as the fortress checkpoint neared its breaking point, Leon had personally entered the battlefield, opening the fortress gates and leading the cavalry charge.

The greatsword had been specially commissioned for him. Its weight made it impossible for ordinary people to wield, but in his Werewolf Form, it possessed enough power to cleave both horse and rider in half with a single strike.

“Focus all attacks! Kill that Werewolf!”

The Earl temporarily forgot all thoughts of retreat as he roared himself hoarse.

The Werewolf raised his eyes, looking at him across several layers of soldiers.

Then, Time Acceleration activated.

Moving at a speed impossible for others to follow, Leon casually flung several test tubes filled with Cursed Blood before slashing the arm holding his greatsword with his own claws, opening several bloody wounds.

The cuts were not deep, yet enormous amounts of purplish-red blood gushed forth.

Hidden behind the fortress gate, Weiss was using the Exhaust Blood Blessing on Leon, temporarily accelerating his blood circulation and forcing massive amounts of blood to pour from those small wounds.

The gushing Cursed Blood immediately began to vaporize.

At the same time, the Cursed Blood sealed inside the test tubes Leon had thrown also boiled into vapor, causing the tubes to shatter one after another.

The blood inside had been collected several days earlier, its activity preserved through Weiss's techniques.

Enhanced by Time Acceleration, the speed at which the Cursed Blood vaporized and spread became astonishing.

It was as though a poison gas bomb had detonated.

Before anyone could react, a cloud of purple poisonous mist spread over a radius exceeding ten meters around Leon, continuing to surge forward.

The cavalry protecting Leon immediately wheeled their horses around and withdrew from the poisonous mist according to plan.

Leon could now control the Cursed Blood so that it poisoned only designated targets, but with so many people on the battlefield, confusion was unavoidable.

The Earl's soldiers engulfed by the poisonous mist fell into terror.

The Cursed Blood awakened their instinctive fear.

Time Acceleration caused its toxicity to take effect at multiple times its normal speed.

Amid endless screams, ordinary soldiers collapsed in waves, while even the surviving Transcendents gradually found their entire bodies stiffening.

At that moment, Leon had become the Grim Reaper of the battlefield.

Leon accelerated into a charge, swinging his greatsword repeatedly at the still-living Transcendents before him, effortlessly killing several.

One Transcendent blessed with the Body of Steel Blessing charged forward fearlessly and seized Leon's greatsword with both hands, forcibly stopping the attack.

But his courage bought almost no time.

Leon accelerated again, thrusting his claws directly into the man's face and gouging out both of his eyes.

As more and more people collapsed inside the poisonous mist, the previously suppressed Magical Beasts launched a counteroffensive, overwhelming the remaining Transcendents under the Earl with sheer numbers and dragging them down.

The Earl himself was also besieged by Demonic Wolves.

He was now the only person still standing within the poisonous mist.

He had already been poisoned when the Shapeshifter bit his neck. Only the Sustained-Release Agent had kept him alive until now. Breathing in more poisonous mist made little difference at this point.

He swung his longsword again, cutting apart two more lunging Demonic Wolves.

As their shattered corpses fell away, Leon appeared behind them, already aiming a gun at him.

Thanks to the enhanced reflexes granted by his Blessing, the Earl dodged instinctively.

Even so, Leon's shot struck his leg.

“Urgh!”

The Earl nearly collapsed to one knee, barely managing to support himself with his sword.

Leon first had to ensure that the Earl could not escape the poisonous mist.

The mist had killed everyone around Leon, while also preventing the soldiers behind from rushing forward to rescue the Earl.

The Cursed Blood in its gaseous state would soon become diluted.

During these brief dozen or so seconds while the poisonous mist lingered, the Earl stood isolated and without support.

This was Leon's perfect opportunity to kill him.

Compared to Leon, the Earl's influence in political intrigue was like an elephant compared to an ant.

But in a duel fought with one's life on the line, whether one was an emperor of the Underworld or merely a street thug, everyone only had one life to wager.

The Earl suddenly felt as though someone had clenched his heart with an iron grip.

His blood began surging violently, pouring continuously from the wound on his neck.

Within the poisonous mist, the silhouette of a woman flickered in and out of view.

Weiss was using the Exhaust Blood Blessing to accelerate his blood loss.

After exhausting both guns, Leon gripped the broken greatsword with both hands and dashed toward the Earl, leaving afterimages behind him.

Once he entered close combat, the Earl's soldiers behind him would be unable to provide ranged support without risking friendly fire.

The Earl gritted his teeth, preparing for a desperate final struggle.

He drew his pistol and fired.

But Leon, accelerated by Time Acceleration, dodged before the shot was even completed.

In an instant, Leon circled around to the Earl's swordless side and swung the greatsword toward his waist.

At the critical moment, the Earl had no time to block with his sword.

Instead, he swung the now-empty Flintlock Pistol like a blunt weapon and smashed it against the greatsword.

The Divine Armament Blessing took effect.

Used as a club, the Flintlock Pistol unleashed astonishing destructive power, actually shattering the greatsword's blade and snapping it cleanly in half.

Kill!

The Earl felt he had finally seized his one and only chance for victory.

He poured all his strength into a counterattack.

But at that instant, Leon suddenly flung the blood coating his hand directly into the Earl's face.

Under Leon's control, the Cursed Blood accelerated straight toward the Earl's eyes.

The Earl's vision instantly became a blur of purplish-red.

His longsword completed its swing—

Yet struck nothing.

The silver blade of light merely carved a deep trench into the ground.

The next instant—

Leon's claw, shaped like a blade, plunged deeply into his throat.

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