Chapter 1238: Cage Match

Chapter 1238: Cage Match

Evo Ponson inwardly cursed at his bastard of commander as another crack appeared on his soul. He'd been forced to toil like a dog for weeks because these haughty tyrants wouldn't heed his warnings. They thought themselves above the dangers of the graveyard because of the creature they'd brought and the grandeur of their background. Foolish. He was the one who'd spent over eight centuries in this treacherous environment.

No one was above it, not even the Pope.

Had they just listened when he said something was wrong with currents, they wouldn't have been reduced to such a sad state. Now, the Lucent Voyage was destroyed, and the Void Leash controlling their guide had snapped. And yet, Pantiro was still playing around. What could he do except hear and obey, ignoring that the crew he'd painstakingly raised was growing even thinner?

They might both be Remoulded, but Evo knew his home-field advantage would do him little good in case they came to blows. Pantiro wouldn’t need to bother ripping him apart personally. The scene of Lord Evori detonating their old Captain's companion with a single look remained fresh in Evo's mind. Being a member of the Chapter of Tripartite Truth meant nothing when the Black Heart Curses held absolute dominion over all Kan'Tanu curses.

The poor man had been sacrificed the second he went against their orders, and Evo had no intention of following after having endured so long. So he erected the domain against his better judgment. The pain from the dimensional pressure added to his misery and made his companion writhe with fury. Evo's overtaxed mind lacked its usual ability to fight back, and his thoughts grew chaotic as he was forced to fight an inner war of control. He held onto his sanity by focusing on their target: the undead bastard who'd been caught in his net.

Evo was in a bad state, but not bad enough to miss the greed and elation in Pantiro's eyes when their target entered [Hidden Domain]. Evo was too far removed from the war, and he had no idea who these people were. Pantiro clearly did, and this black-eyed creature had to be a sealbearer. Three seals had already slipped through Pantiro's fingers in the months Evo had guided the outsiders from the breach, and he would rather sacrifice half their crew than let another one go.

Their target had managed to leave a domain skill in his wake. It had to be a Late D-grade skill, further empowered by an Earthly Dao. The spatial instability would deal with the skill even if his subordinates couldn't. Only, dozens would be dead at that point—something they could ill afford in their current situation.

They were already running precipitously low on the personnel necessary to make it out in one piece. Accomplishing the task sent out to all vessels in the region was even more out of the question. Thankfully, they should meet the minimum quota of sacrifices today. Since there was one sealbearer, there were most likely more. Such as that skeletal monstrosity duking it out with Lord Evori.

The faster they dealt with this mess, the sooner Evo could return to his original plan; sifting for benefits on the bodies of the Early and Middle Hegemons. Being too old to accept a seal didn't matter. Just the merit from unearthing one would let him trade for enough tonics to deal with decades of accumulated sequela and claw back centuries of longevity lost to his companion.

The black-eyed humanoid's resistance wasn't enough to escape the pull of [Spatial Flow]. He was quickly moved into position, where Pantiro was waiting. Evo activated [Forced Stasis] the moment he appeared, turning space around their captive into something harder than steel.

Paviro's hands wriggled as they rushed forward in a brutal double-palm. He'd activated his curse to create a second layer of muscle and skin, adding its power to his skill. Nightmarish powers bloomed, and Evo was no longer looking at a palm strike. It had become a dreadful maw of a creature too evil to exist in reality, its serrated teeth closing around its target.

The axeman wasn't accepting his fate lying down. Enough killing intent to make Evo's hair stand on end poured out of his body. Evo had never even seen such an aura of slaughter before, not even on the Warborn Reincarnator he encountered a few millennia ago.

Evo couldn't silence the misgivings appearing in his heart. The problem was no longer that they'd held up two of their strongest warriors on a single enemy. They'd jumped into a cage with a monster. His fears were immediately realized when space around the undead warrior fractured, unable to stop his advance.

[Forced Statis] shattered, seemingly through the exertion of raw physical power. Evo could barely believe his eyes. The suppressive effect might be weakened in the Imperial Graveyard, but it was still a Late D-grade skill. You'd need a shocking amount of Strength to overpower it in such a crude manner, far more than a Late D-grade Cultivator should have.

Evo repurposed the spatial turmoil from the broken skill into cutting blades. The attack that could have dismembered a Middle Hegemon only amounted to a new set of flesh wounds that triggered the warrior's murderous aura further. A mist of Miasma rose in the pocket space. It didn't work on Evo, who was lord of this domain.

Everything in his space was within Evo's purview, which allowed him to see something odd. The warrior's anthracite axe dripped with darkness, and it tore into the beast with unmatched ferocity. There was an odd, ancient aura Evo couldn't place, which interfered with how Evo perceived the swing. He'd never seen anything like it, which made his premonition worse.

The six chains emerging from the man's back lashed out like deadly whips. Two of them were coming straight for Evo, moving with blinding speed. Evo cast distracting thoughts aside, teleporting out of reach. His instincts told him to leave the pocket entirely, except that meant certain death. Their enemy was stronger than he'd expected, but Paviro was no pushover himself. Evo would have to make sure the scales were tipped in their favor. Anything less meant punishment.

Evo had to take his chances with angering Paviro, or he would be dead long before this superior could find the answers he sought. He needed the boost of his War Array, or he'd be cut down in less than a minute. He hadn't expected to find himself so utterly helpless before the methods of a lower-graded outsider. He was a seasoned Peak D-grade Remoulded! Even if victory was off the table, he should have been able to hold his own for a short while.

Then, everything went from bad to worse. Evo heard the groan of a wooden wheel and was beset by an acute impression of the seasons turning, where his future was turning with them. Summer gave way to winter's chill, and Evo was blinded by pain when his teleportation failed. Something was very, very wrong. The Dao suddenly felt foreign, distant. Even his ever-present companion had become an unmoving stranger.

There was only a hollow emptiness. And Death in the form of a black-robed man.

Darkness flashed, the world split in two, and everything started to spin. A comforting cold flooded his Soul Aperture, acting like a healing balm on the thousands of wounds accumulated over his lifetime. A single discordant thought ruined the perfect harmony as Evo entered eternity's embrace.

[Empty Expanse] was still running, so why didn't the axe slow down?

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An unprecedented surge of cosmic energy poured into Zac's body, allowing him to exhale in relief. The Spatial Cultivator was clearly wounded from the ship's explosion, but he retained more than enough power to pose a significant threat with the Black Heart Pugilist breathing down his neck.

A familiar scream of danger followed the cultist's demise, and Zac grunted in pained surprise over a sudden stab of pain to his side. He was shocked to see the Kan'Tanu's Heart Curse emerge from a spatial rift instead of the corpse. Heart Curses' ability to borrow the Daos of their owners was incredibly rare, and Zac could only imagine it was doubly true for a Spatial Cultivator.

Then again, this was the first Peak D-grade elite he'd killed during the war. He'd dealt with a few more, but they were neither Remoulded nor members of an elite chapter. It only made sense that the opponent was outfitted with a superior curse to match. Virulent tendrils rushed toward his Cosmic Core, showcasing tremendous resilience against Zac's inherent defenses.

Dozens of spatial mirrors joined the first, and Zac found himself assailed from every angle by the dying Heart Curse. Its tendrils were already withered from hiding in the void between dimensions, and it desperately sought a new host. Zac formed an impenetrable wall with chain and axe, destroying the bloody thorns with such prejudice they formed a sanguine haze.

Years of experiments and attempted possessions let Zac confirm it wouldn't accomplish anything too dangerous before being whittled down. Some internal injuries would be the extent of it. Ideally, he'd have manually worked on it to lessen the dangers even further. Except, would his opponents give him the opportunity?

Zac had opted to use multiple hidden cards from the start, and it wasn't without reason. He almost had to activate [Void Zone] immediately upon arriving. His Eoz nodes had thankfully roared into action, providing an unstoppable burst of power in exchange for a couple of broken bones. Still, he'd felt just how much strength his true opponent wielded. He couldn't have another enemy harassing him from a distance.

Everything went even better than expected. Zac hadn't had the chance to test his recent ideas on using the Void in real combat until now, and the result was staggering. Activating [Abyssal Drive] purely with Void Energy had given the cultists pause, and his hesitation created the opportunity Zac needed.

Controlling one of Alea's chains with a Void-imbued Inexorable Stance allowed it to briefly move through a mental blind spot to reach the spatial cultivator unnoticed. That was enough to seal his fate, but he'd even used [Empyrean Aegis] from within the Shrine of Kanba to interrupt the teleportation and ensure there weren't any complications. It was a risky move, and Zac hoped the spatial cage and [Fields of Despair] had hidden and obscured any hints of life.

It was too early to celebrate. The Peak Hegemon had died an ignoble death, but not before exacting a price. A large dent had appeared on his heart protector, but Alea couldn't fully absorb the rampant spatial energies from the final desperate strike. He'd also summoned six more Hegemons, though none of them looked like they could put up much of a fight.

The real threat hadn't been scared off by his dominant display. The Black Heart Pugilist was quickly approaching, his face a mask of greed and bloodlust. Zac cracked his neck and got ready. He'd already spent quite a bit on his shock-and-awe tactic, but he had a few more cards up his sleeve.