Chapter 84: The Saint King of the Final Node
Boom!
Under Li Nanke’s furious strike, the Holy Shield Inquisitor could not keep his footing at all. His body staggered backward, each step carving spiderweb cracks into the hardened ground. A chilling terror seized his heart—he simply could not comprehend why the enemy had suddenly become so powerful. Wasn’t the foe supposed to be grievously wounded, their strength diminished?
The overwhelming pressure was suffocating—far beyond anything he’d ever felt even in his sparring matches with Faliano. Just a single hammer blow was enough to make him feel unprecedented heaviness and struggle.
The enemy before him seemed transformed into an invincible force, each swing of the warhammer proclaiming an unmatched savagery!
It wasn’t only the Holy Shield Inquisitor who was appalled; the Holy Lance Inquisitor, too, was shaken to the core. Though currently entangled with Reynold, a glance from the corner of his eye revealed both his companions utterly suppressed by Li Nanke, unable even to retaliate.
The gaping wound on the enemy’s back was slowly knitting together, while the Lady of Perpetual Pain behind Reynold bled profusely from her back. Anya’s face was pale, her jaw clenched as she began to shoulder part of Li Nanke’s injuries.
The warhammer only grew fiercer, as if channeling divine might. Each swing brought forth a howling wind, enough to make one’s heart pound in dread. Despite the Holy Shield Inquisitor’s powerful physique and formidable defenses, he was forced to retreat again and again under the relentless hammer blows, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth—a sign of internal injuries.
Thanks to the advanced Sanctuary Sigil, these wounds could be quickly transferred to the Lady of Perpetual Pain, allowing him to barely hold on.
In comparison, the Holy Sword Inquisitor’s situation was even more dire.
The greatsword in his hands, revered as the Holy Sword, was now riddled with cracks under the sustained onslaught of the blood-drenched hammer, on the verge of shattering. Should he lose this weapon, his fate would be dire indeed.
The Holy Lance Inquisitor realized they could not remain passive any longer. If they did not seize an opportunity to counterattack, the situation would spiral out of control.
Breaking free from Reynold’s harassment, he lunged forward with his spear.
But Li Nanke spun on his heel, bringing the hammer down with crushing force!
Boom!
The air exploded as if a powder keg had erupted. The moment the Holy Lance Inquisitor leapt forward, he was swept away, sent flying backward by the merciless blow. A dull ache seized his chest, and he coughed up blood, barely managing to parry Reynold’s incoming greatsword. Now he understood why, even two against one, his companions were being utterly overwhelmed.
Seizing the opportunity, the Holy Sword Inquisitor dashed toward a fallen comrade’s body, intending to swap his cracked greatsword for the holy axe.
But a companion’s warning shout rang out behind him.
The roar of wind rushed past his ears—he turned, raising his sword to block on instinct.
A sharp crack sounded as immense force struck, shattering the sword into fragments.
And before his eyes, the monstrous, flame-wreathed warhammer, bristling with barbs, loomed ever larger!
All present heard the dreadful sounds of metal armor being crushed, bones shattering, and flesh bursting.
When Li Nanke finally lifted the blood-drenched warhammer, all that remained in the gaping crater was a misshapen, heavy slab of metal.
Flesh and blood spattered outward in an explosive spray, painting the church’s floor with a cruel yet beautiful flower of gore.
Li Nanke turned, flames blazing ever brighter upon his warhammer.
[Attribute: Breath of Flame]
[Level: 0 → 1 (76%)]
The only two remaining Inquisitors looked on in utter despair. How could they possibly win now? The enemy grew stronger with each strike, and their mightiest allies had already fallen. The two of them stood no chance—not even of escaping with their lives.
Yet neither fled. Their loyalty to the Holy King was unwavering; even in death, they would not retreat.
Li Nanke swiftly granted them their wish for martyrdom, turning their noble sacrifice into a surge of energy.
The dozen or so Penitent Guards barring the church entrance likewise fell beneath the invaders’ blades.
In an instant, only Li Nanke, Reynold, and Anya remained in the church.
Facing the tightly sealed doors to the Audience Hall, Li Nanke did not enter at once. Instead, he turned to the siblings and said, “Put on the Penitent Guard’s armor.”
He turned away, gazing through the stained glass. The great shield of light formed by the defensive prayer was growing dimmer and dimmer.
As the glow faded, the shouts and clamor of the Penitent Guards outside became faintly audible. Reynold stiffened, quickly understanding, “What about you?”
“Reynold, if you want to save Anya, do as I say. Once the great defensive prayer fails, the Penitent Guards will storm in. Whatever happens, disguise yourself and Anya as Penitent Guards and escape in the chaos.”
Without giving Reynold a chance to refuse, Li Nanke pushed open the metal doors and entered the Audience Hall.
The hall was vast and dim, at whose far end stood the Thorned Giant, with a towering throne at its feet.
Thorns extended from the Father of the First Divine Grace, winding from his form to the base of the throne, pinning the withered figure to his seat. Blood-red thorns wrapped his limbs, fusing with his body, binding him eternally to his throne, ensuring his dominion as Holy King.
Li Nanke entered, his footsteps echoing endlessly on the stone floor.
From the shadows, the Holy King’s voice rumbled, “You have won.”
There was no panic in his tone—only the same dignity as when they first met.
As Li Nanke drew closer, the true appearance of the withered figure on the throne became clear.
Beneath the Crown of Thorns was a face as gaunt and dry as a skull. Blood-red thorn motifs adorned his robe, and his limbs were shriveled and stick-like, as though eroded by centuries.
The Holy King’s body was but a withered husk; for hundreds of years, he had sat alone upon his throne, a prisoner to the so-called power of the Holy King.
“Edward, do you understand what true suffering is?”
The Holy King’s voice echoed through the empty hall.
Li Nanke did not reply; he only gripped his bloodied warhammer, gazing at the ruler before him.
“Once, I did not understand true suffering…” The Holy King’s voice carried a trace of ancient sorrow. “The great being, the Divine Lord, answered my prayers and granted me the eternal right of the Holy King, allowing the Penitent Church to stand unbroken for three centuries.”
“I received divine grace and took pride in it. I made the First Divine Grace, symbolizing self-mortification and distortion, our faith, spreading extreme suffering to win followers for the Divine Lord.”
“Sitting on this throne, I accepted the worship of the masses, reveled in supreme authority. Here, by the power of the First Divine Grace, I could draw all the suffering and divine grace in the world, gaining endless strength.”
His voice trembled. “But I gradually realized that behind this power lurked endless agony and torment.”
“On this lonely throne, I have witnessed the centuries pass, yet I cannot escape this eternal bondage—I cannot take even a single step from my throne!”
“I am a prisoner of suffering, a pitiful slave to the Divine Lord, exchanging power for freedom and pain, doomed to ceaselessly gather followers for the Divine Lord.”
“For centuries I have pondered my agony, and at last I understand the truth of suffering…”
“Endless torment comes from the twisting of the soul—a distortion not born of mortals, but of the Divine Lord!”
The Holy King lifted his withered old face. “You can never truly kill me. Even if you slay me, the Divine Lord will descend once more, bestowing divine grace and raising me again. It is an edict from the gods, irresistible!”
“I have tried countless times. Each time—”
Boom!
Li Nanke’s warhammer came crashing down, and the throne erupted in a plume of blood and mist.
Dry flesh and splintered bone flew in all directions; the Holy King, interrupted mid-sentence, was reduced to a heap of mangled flesh.
“Screw you!”
[Nightmare, you have completed the final node! You may return immediately!]
[Final Node Reward: Main Stem of the Bloodred Thorn (pending collection)]
[You have triggered a hidden node: Sever All Divine Grace of Suffering!]
[Because you have triggered the hidden node and have not yet completed it, you are granted up to two additional hours to remain. During this time, you may choose to return at any moment, but once the hidden node is completed, you will be returned immediately!]
(End of chapter)