Chapter 179 Fuola’s Last Stand

His arms were quivering, but he still stood in front of Maia, holding his sword.

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"I won't let you... lay a finger on her!"

"That's a big statement, can you back it up?"

Fuola's expression became darker. His entire body tensed up as he braced himself to use every last bit of his strength. Pointing his sword at the Second Progenitor, he gathered everything he had.

"Invoke... Magic Armour—Type Zero!"

Aura burst out from his body, layering himself in a bright white barrier.

In return, the Progenitor raised his sword.

"Drink my blood, Beelzebub."

Fuola felt what could only be described as the darkest despair in the world. A pure black aura circulated around the Progenitor's elegant blade. Faced against the peril that was the completely overwhelming strength of the Progenitor, he could only watch in horror.

Step by step, the Progenitor walked forwards. Emanating an immense crushing pressure, he made his way closer to Fuola.

All of a sudden, the Progenitor's sword fell upon Fuola. He tried to block it, however, the attack was way too heavy. The edge of Fuola's sword began to chip away as the terrifying aura began eating away at his blade.

The ground around them began to crumbled and splinter as it suffered trauma from the impact. Fuola pushed back with all his strength, but he was no match for the Progenitor. He jumped backwards in order to break away from the engagement and instead of immediately pushing in, the Progenitor simply strolled toward him.

"Not bad, you've grown from when I first saw you."

"I don't want to hear compliments from you... you monster."

Closing the distance once again, the Progenitor swung his deep, jet-black blade. Fuola tried to parry the attack but the mere force sent his entire body tumbling toward the ground. He shoulder smashed into the side wall, causing chunks of rock to fall down. His Magic Armour protected him from serious injury but it still caused some damage.

His body was fatigued but he got back up and raised his blade once again. The Progenitor looked at Fuola, slowly approaching him once again. With an adamant look on his face, Fuola braced himself for the next attack.

With a loud bang, their blades clashed again. Easily breaking past his defence, the Progenitor smacked Fuola's sword to the side. With his chest wide open, the Progenitor sliced him right in the middle.

As fast as he could, Fuola tried to create more distance between them, but not before the Progenitor managed to land a direct hit. His Magic Armour managed to soften the blow, but the attack still managed to draw some blood from his body.

"That ability of yours, what is it?"

Fuola didn't respond.

"Ah, you really don't deserve to be one of my offspring."

"...I don't want to be one of your offspring!"

With more strength, the Progenitor slashed at Fuola. He managed to block the attack but he wasn't done this time. The Progenitor continued, cutting at Fuola's body. His Magic Amour managed to negate a lot of the damage but it was still causing injuries to occur. Fuola frantically tried to block all of the attacks but he was no match for the Progenitor's speed and power.

Eventually, Fuola fell to the ground as the rock floor splintered from the pressure.

He winced in pain as his Magic Armour began weakening.

However, instead of finishing him off, the Progenitor decided to walk towards Maia. Grabbing her by the neck, he picked her up and looked at her. She struggled but stood no chance against the Progenitor's strength.

"What's so special about you that makes Fuola like you so much... I wonder."

All of a sudden, energy began concentrating around Fuola.

"...let... go of her... I'll kill you."

"Oh? Are you now?"

Picking himself up from the ground, Fuola raised his sword once again.

"Sword... drink my blood, all of it, every drop, give me every last piece of strength I have!"

A huge dense cloud of red aura began circulating around Fuola's blade. It was so powerful that a miniature cyclone began forming within the cave. A strong wind brushed through the room, causing fragments of rock to be shaved off of the walls and roof. It was at a scale of which even Lest isn't capable.

Feeding his sword with all of his remaining blood, Fuola was about to create the single most powerful attack in all of history.

Like the beginning of the formation of a neutron star, his sword gathered more and more power. Aura concentrated around his crimson blade, becoming denser and denser.

For the first time, the Progenitor looked slightly worried. He raised his sword and planted his feet on the ground.

Fuola was still gathering more power in his blade, concentrating even more aura. The edge of his red blade began to distort the air around it. He showed an expression of pure anger, looking at the progenitor with disgust and hatred.

All of a sudden, everything stopped.

Every last drop of energy in the area had assembled on the edge of Fuola's blade.

The Progenitor assumed a defensive posture as he prepared for the incoming attack.

After a brief moment of silence, the ground exploded. Fuola kicked off of the ground, sending a huge shockwave ripping apart the floor. On the uneven ground, he dashed straight toward the Progenitor. The was no technique in his swing, the only thing he had at this moment.

In one big swing, the sword cut straight into his stomach.

Despite trying to block with his sword, even it was not enough to stop the attack. His blade split in two, falling to the ground. A huge amount of blood began gushing out as the Progenitor held his stomach in pain. The dark red liquid splatterer all over the ground, leaking out like a broken dam.

"...gah... that hurts..."

Suddenly, Fuola fell to the ground as his body went limp. He had used up all the energy in his body.