The Demon Against The Heavens 223 Cornerstone

In contrast with that candid glow, the boy's body was emanating a terrifying b.l.o.o.d.y Aura. Contrary to what might be imagined, the Mana of Life that Helial had just used was accentuating the characteristics of Destruction within his body.

It seemed that the young man had found a way to use Flame of Qilin, one of the most terrifying Skills in the whole universe, to catalyse an even more terrifying reaction than the one resulting from Runic Condensation.

Runic Condensation was able to tremendously thicken the Mana within Meridians, to make Helial's output of power surpa.s.s any imagination for his Phase.

Pseudonym stabilized his Aura after being hit and activated his Skill, his trademark.

Skill Activated:

Dance of the Phoenix

The reddish mist around Helial was somehow frightening.

And it gave off a sour smell...

"Blood?" murmured Pseudonym to himself. He was shocked at how much Helial was willing to put into play for a simple fight, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn't take it lightly either.

It was the first time that the legend of Orma felt so threatened by a person at his own Phase.

If he hadn't lowered his Aura at Helial's level, then he probably wouldn't have any worries. However, fighting as they were, even Pseudonym could not be sure of his victory.

The power that Helial was wielding was truly terrifying, to the point that the warrior in black armour was beginning to worry.

More serious than ever, Pseudonym raised his two swords, pointing them in parallel towards Helial and starting to draw a circle with his feet.

The demonic aspect of his opponent did not seem just an empty threat.

Now Helial, without the support of Flame of the Qilin, was falling. Suddenly the two translucent wings behind the boy's back flapped, allowing Helial to disappear from the sight of his enemy.

In a split second, Helial reappeared behind Pseudonym, brandishing the Curse of the Demon.

The pupils of the Champion narrowed to two slits, while he used the energy flow of Dance of the Phoenix to launch an attack behind him.

But the huge pitch-black sword, which now weighed more than 5.000 kg, was thrown against Pseudonym and impacted on his two swords.

The explosion that followed burned half the forest to the ground. It was only by accident that the spectators of the clash were the other half; but given how things were going, the risk of the situation getting worse was very high. Everyone would have done better to put admiration and curiosity aside and return to safety, within the walls of Orma.

However, fear and fright were the only emotions that had not even touched them. Circe clenched her fists. Even she, faced with a destructive power such as that emanated from the clash of the three swords, could have done nothing but perish. Her young boyfriend seemed well on his way to take witch's place in Orma.

Neither of the two challengers pulled back. Helial struck two more slashes, feeling that his muscles could not hold for much longer.

The backfire of that Secret Skill would probably have crippled for more than a couple of days.

But now it didn't matter.

Now, the important thing was only to win.

The swords crossed repeatedly.

At the umpteenth charge of Helial, Pseudonym's footwork reached the limit, bringing him to the side of his opponent. The two black swords, one by the hand, reached towards his neck and heart, ready to break Helial's body in three.

Watching Pseudonym enter his blind spot, Helial immediately released Curse of the Demon. He was aware of how much the great sword slowed him down.

He struck with the elbow against Pseudonym's cervical vertebrae.

"d.a.m.ned fools", swore Snowflake from afar.

If the blows hadn't stopped, both Helial and Pseudonym would have died. The energy behind Helial's blow could not be underestimated. He could have broken Pseudonym's neck with extreme ease.

Suddenly, Pseudonym also let go of the swords, entering into a hand-to-hand conflict with his enemy.

In fact, thanks to Dance of the Phoenix, his movements were now even more unpredictable. Since both had quite long swords, in a close combat, they could not have expressed their full explosive power.

Pseudonym grabbed Helial's arm, dodging the punch aimed at his cheekbone. He twisted it quickly, breaking it at a totally unnatural angle.

Helial roared to the sky as a wounded beast, but his knee had just hit from behind Pseudonym's, making him lame.

One had just lost an arm, the other a leg.

Neither of them seemed willing to stop.

"Why don't you become my cornerstone?" shouted Helial, laughing like a madman. "I need a reason to live and become the strongest. Do you know who seems to be up to becoming my reason for living at the moment? "

The index of Helial's unbroken arm pointed at Pseudonym.

Pseudonym was the only person important to Helial, the one who would give him the opportunity to become stronger and find a purpose to move forward on his path.

The index finger closed on the palm, forming a fist. Helial's hand exploded with energy as he moved away from his enemy. The other arm hung helplessly along the body.

"Or at least, as long as you are the strongest, you will have to be able to bear the weight of my words!"

Helial's hand rose to the sky as Curse of the Demon appeared in a black flash.

"Everyone needs a purpose to live, and you want me to become yours?" said Pseudonym mockingly.

Shrugging, a new Helial, crazier than ever, nodded.

Pseudonym could not help but laugh, despite the fact that he was now quite tried by that clash. "Okay," he said, "but first let's see who will die today."

"I don't think there is much choice: I will be unable to fight for a couple of days. But I've decided that if you want to deserve your t.i.tle, you must first receive my last attack."

Curse of the Demon was pointing to the sky, while all around Helial the world seemed to gradually lose colour.

"I advise you to use your true strength, otherwise you will certainly die," laughed Helial.

The eyes of the boy dozing in Helial's Soul widened under a hat with bat wings attached to its sides.

Pseudonym narrowed his eyes. Something felt wrong. Not only was Helial's Aura suddenly rising steeply, but his image seemed superimposed on that of a real Devil. The huge black broadsword seemed to have deprived the world of all its colours.

Helial understood that Pseudonym was observing him and explained: "What you see at the moment is not a Skill, but a simple memory that I have studied over and over again, until I was able to imitate it somewhat. If you don't want to die, I suggest you play your best card."

Pseudonym clenched his fists as his armour slowly began to melt. The flame produced by the legend of Orma was so destructive that it even affected his armour.

The steel from which it was forged had special properties. Although his defensive capabilities were not equal to those of some incredible artefacts, it was able to withstand very high temperatures.

To put it bluntly, not even a warrior with Affinity to Fire in the Sixth Phase could have generated flames powerful enough to melt that kind of steel.

Pseudonym collected all the Mana in his body, starting to transform it into black flames.

"Let's see how you respond to this," he murmured, returning his Aura to the Late stage of the Third Phase.

Skill Activated:

Black Sun