297 Chapter 297: Oppressing the Oppressors

"!!!"

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Spartacus was laughing raucously as he threw punch after punch at the evading Brent. The mercenary captain dodged the first barrage, but one of the flying fists suddenly sprouted a new arm that hurtled toward him in a hook. Brent was forced to parry that punch, which contained so much force that he was thrown several meters back despite defending against it with his armored gauntlets.

Skidding across the ruined land, he dug his feet to halt his momentum. Glancing up at his grotesque opponent, he grimaced in disgust.

"Monster."

Right now the Bloody Berserker was no longer recognizable, his body now about fifteen minutes in height. He had sprouted a new head, and all three heads were howling in sadistic glee, while numerous arms grew out of the bubbling body. Brent cursed as he was forced to duck under yet another punch, and he countered with an attack of his own, his gauntlet blowing the limb apart in a shower of flesh and blood with sheer explosive force.

"Ga ha ha ha ha!"

However, Spartacus didn't seem to care. The remains of his arm bubbled and a new limb regenerated, bigger and more muscular than before.

"Is he converting damage into power? To regenerate and rebuild his broken body?" Brent scowled as he jumped back to avoid getting crushed by Spartacus's wildly pummeling fists. "Even so, there has to be a limit to the amount of damage that he can sustain."

Narrowing his eyes, he considered his chances. If his guess was wrong, he might end up creating an enemy that would become too strong for even someone of his vaunted reputation and capabilities to handle. However, if he was right…

"…guess I don't have a choice. I can't let this battle continue on forever."

Taking a deep breath, he reared his arm back and obliterated yet another cluster of arms from the mutating Spartacus, blowing another huge portion of his body to bits. The Bloody Berserker cried out, but laughed as he reached out with newly growing arms.

"It's useless! Useless, I tell you!"

"Really?" Brent raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips. He had detected an unsteady waver in his opponent's mana, like that of a nuclear reactor just about to blow. Sure, Spartacus remained a dangerous enemy, his massive body harboring tremendous amounts of power, but he was just about to go critical.

And when he did, everyone in the vicinity would die.

By the way, Spartacus wasn't his real name. Once, he had another name, one belonging to the man he formerly was before he was driven insane from mastering the blood techniques of the Blood Slaughter Sect.

That man was forgotten now, lost to the ravages of time and erased from the records of the Federation. Liu and the former sect leader of Blood Slaughter Sect had taken him in, kept him sedated until whatever time came for them to set him loose upon their enemies. They had renamed him Spartacus because…well, to be frank, because Liu happened to watch Fate/Apocrypha and he noticed how similar the Bloody Berserker's abilities were to a certain Servant's Noble Phantasm. But we shall not elaborate on that further, for fear of plagiarism.

In any case, Brent was forced into a dilemma. Yet he knew he had no choice – to defeat his foe, he had to take risks and be willing to sacrifice just a little.

Taking a deep breath, he drew his right arm back and began accumulating as much mana around the gleaming gauntlet as possible.

"Ha ha ha! Resistance is futile! Just die!"

Lumbering forward, Spartacus guffawed and threw his many arms at the stationary mercenary captain, whose face was tense in concentration.

"Oh, God of the Wind, bestow upon me your strength and allow me to blow my enemies apart. This glory, I do in your name."

Exhaling, Brent threw his right fist forward and unleashed a tremendous torrent of devastating mana that took the form of a terrifying tornado. The immense funnel of air surged forward and slammed into the advancing Spartacus, rupturing his mutating body and blowing a massive hole in him. The bellowing goliath vanished in an incandescent light of explosions, his hulking figure engulfed in a tempestuous maelstrom of destruction.

"Our leader, Feng Hai, bears the fearsome title of Hurricane Blade. But I, one of his right-hand men, possesses the nickname, Hurricane Fist."

Straightening himself and lowering his gauntleted arm, Brent smiled slightly as he watched the silhouette of his flailing foe through the devastating tempest.

"Ha ha ha ha! Splendid! That was a splendid attack indeed!"

Bursting out of the swirling storm, Spartacus chuckled thunderously, his form continuing to mutate and regenerate, restoring lost limbs and expanding further. However, Brent merely stared him down and shook his head in grim satisfaction.

"Nope. This is as far as you go. You've finally reached your limit."

"?!"

Spartacus initially lunged at his much smaller opponent, heedless of his warning, but then part of his body glowed and blew apart into shreds. All around his shifting, writhing form, infernal lights glowed incessantly, almost as if superheated energies were melting his body from within. His legs giving out under him and melting away, the goliath tumbled helplessly onto the ground.

"What is this?!"

"You don't realize that your own body is going into critical meltdown?" Brent sighed almost sadly. "What a pitiful man. To be used by your sect like a weapon without any regard for what your techniques might do to you…"

"Who cares, as long as I can keep killing?!" Spartacus howled. Brent shook his head, disgust curling across his face.

"Even until the very end, you only think of killing."

"Shut up! Just die and become my food!" driven insane by the Red Thirst, Spartacus tried to lunge at the mercenary captain who had turned his back on him and was departing the scene. "You are my prey!"

"You may not have realized it, but…" Brent didn't even bother to glance back as he shook his head. "Omae wa mou shindeiru."

Behind him, Spartacus's enraged bellows transformed into agonized shrieks as his body swelled up beyond his limits and blew itself apart from the inside out, the raging tempest of crimson mana billowing outward in a vicious storm.

*

Raising his hand, Liu continued to rain an unceasing torrent of blood spears upon his opponent. Redfield evaded and dodged them, sometimes spinning around to deflect them, but he mostly escaped unscathed. One or two of the blood lances managed to pierce his cheek, causing blood to flow out, but he didn't flinch.

Instead, he skidded to a stop and incinerated the swathe of them with a burst of crimson fire.

"Hmph."

Unimpressed, Liu clenched his fist.

"!!"

This time, Redfield did have a reaction when blood spears stabbed through his foot, staking him to the ground and incapacitating his movements momentarily. Gritting his teeth, he tried to break them apart to free himself.

"From above too," Liu crowed as he raised his spear. A hail of blood lances descended from the heavens, bombarding Redfield's position.

Flames ignited around Redfield's spear as he smashed the blood spears impaling his foot, and then rolled away before he could be turned into a human pincushion. Heaving, he swung his spear to incinerate a swathe of blood lances that managed to twist in midair and alter their trajectory to home in on him, and then disappeared from Liu's sight.

Unperturbed, Liu calmly parried Redfield's spear aside before his younger opponent vanished with a burst of speed and a graceful roll. Propelling himself to some distance behind Liu, Redfield unfurled his body and pointed his spear at Liu.

Fireballs materialized in midair before launching themselves through Liu's volley of blood lances, burning them apart in midair before streaking toward the elder, unimpeded.

"Wall of Blood."

Liu wasn't without tricks of his own. A barrier of blood manifested itself before him, and while it was blown apart instantly by Redfield's powerful fire spells, they prevented most of the flaming projectiles from ever reaching their wielder.

One of the fireballs managed to make it through the conjured Wall of Blood, but Liu calmly cleaved it apart with his spear. While he was distracted by the errant fireball, Redfield appeared behind him, muttering an incantation.

"Gift of Prometheus…"

"Hmm…"

Liu narrowed his eyes as he turned around, even as a new Wall of Blood grew from the earth. The flames washed over him, turning red blood into crimson steam, but Liu's masterful defense allowed him to avoid the worst of the blast.

"!!!"

Suddenly, Liu tensed and turned his head toward another direction. A mushroom cloud was billowing upward, volatile crimson energies expanding uncontrollably in rampant fashion. He clicked his tongue.

"…so Spartacus has perished, eh? That useless trash."

"??"

Redfield frowned, puzzled at Liu's sudden change in demeanor. He was about to attack, but Liu spun around and leaped away in the other direction.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Away." Liu shrugged, almost indifferently. "Our trump card has been destroyed, and we are suffering unacceptable casualties. Continuing this fight would only guarantee the annihilation of my sect. We have no choice but to retreat."

As he said that, he thrust his spear into the sky. A crimson burst of mana erupted from the tip and soared high up before blossoming into a blood-red flower. All around the site of the tomb, the surviving Blood Slaughter Sect disciples looked up and immediately recognized the brilliant display.

"The signal for retreat!"

"Fall back!"

"Disengage!"

The beleaguered Silver Wolves mercenaries watched, bewildered, as their erstwhile enemies suddenly withdrew and vanished back into the darkness. Truthfully, it wasn't as if they wouldn't be able to hold the line, but the zealous and fanatical behavior of the Blood Slaughter Sect disciples had put an immense amount of pressure upon the defenders, and they would be lying if they didn't admit to be relieved at the sudden lift of the siege.

"You're running away now?" Redfield's voice was scathing with scorn, but he made no move to pursue despite his frustration.

"You're welcome to pursue me," Liu taunted as he faded into the distance. "If you're willing to leave the tomb site and your charges by themselves."

Redfield clenched his fists, his right hand gripping the shaft of his spear tightly, but he didn't budge an inch even as his fleeing opponent's mocking laughter echoed around him.

*

"The signal for retreat?!"

Xue Tu glanced up when he saw the blood flower, and he clicked his tongue angrily.

"Like hell I'll fall back now! Not until I kill you!"

Despite his threat, right after one of his Blood Golems pulverized a single head of Hydra's, three more heads grew in its place and obliterated the Blood Golem in return. The dwindling army of Blood Golems still fought mechanically and fiercely, but their numbers were slowly but surely being whittled down.

If this turned into a battle of attrition, I would win. A few of my Leo Minor were gone, torn apart or crushed by the merciless fists of the Blood Golems, but my main Constellation spirits and Celestial Guardians remained in play, methodically destroying their blocky and gigantic opponents. It wouldn't be long before we wiped them out.

But I wasn't going to wait that long.

"Rigel."

Having summoned Orion earlier to back my Constellation spirits up, I had finally completed the casting of one of its most powerful spells. My Constellation spirits immediately withdrew, most of the disappearing into wisps of mana and fading from reality.

"Ho…so you have given up?"

Xue Tu smirked at me. I didn't answer verbally, and instead responded by unleashing my arrow. Not realizing my intent, Xue Tu ordered his remaining Blood Golems to advance upon my position. They obeyed silently, their crunching footsteps their only sounds as they lumbered toward me.

Rigel struck the center of the marching army and detonated. Another mushroom cloud sprouted toward the atmosphere, engulfing the entire space and disintegrating everything within it while leaving a scorched crater.

"What…what…what…?!"

My opponent was gaping at me, unable to believe what he had just seen. His entire army of Blood Golems, annihilated in an instant…there was no way that was possible, or so he thought. Shaking his head in denial, he glowered at me, his mouth still moving as if to say something, but his voice just couldn't come out.

"Not going to run?" I mocked him.

"Fuck you!" Xue Tu was about to lunge at me, but a poisoned dagger speared him from behind, emerging from his chest. The Blood Slaughter Sect leader gurgled and glanced down at his bleeding chest, unable to comprehend what had just happened. However, he gritted his teeth and struggled to push the dagger out of his chest. "Such a thing won't…!"

Oh, right. His regenerative powers. He would just heal from even such a fatal wound, if my experience from earlier was to be believed.

…normally, anyway. However…

"Ugh…how…? Why…?"

Xue Tu's eyes widened and he staggered as his blood turned purple and his pallor turned a nasty pale. I understood why, however, given that I recognized the poisoned dagger.

Behind the flailing Xue Tu, Anastasia yanked the dagger out of his back and kicked him to the ground. Xue Tu gurgled and went into convulsions. Despite his regenerative abilities from his blood techniques, he was unable to stop the lethal toxins from killing him. The venom coursed through his body, systematically destroying his cells and ultimately killing him.

"I had him," I remarked offhandedly, but Anastasia stuck her tongue out at me.

"You were taking too long."

"Yeah…sorry about that." I glanced at the retreating Blood Slaughter Sect disciples. "I wonder why they're suddenly running away."

"Probably because Captain Brent slew their trump card." Anastasia gestured indifferently toward the site where the first enormous explosion occurred. Ah, that explained the first mushroom cloud. She shook her head as she watched them fade into the swamp. "Without their Bloody Berserker, they have no chance of winning, so it's only natural that they will run away with their tails between their legs."

"Oh, but they'll be back," I assured her, my eyes hardening behind my glasses. "Make no mistake, there's no way they'll give up so easily after throwing away so much of their resources into taking this tomb site. Speaking of which, I wonder what exactly they are after, to be so desperate to launch an assault on the Silver Wolves of all mercenary groups…"