Chapter 288: Fierce Battle against the White Wing Lord

Chapter 288: Fierce Battle against the White Wing Lord

"How dare you - !"

Amid the roar, the column of white light dissipated, finally giving Shinji the chance to witness the true appearance of the King of the Dead Apostles.

Those who see Ortenrosse for the first time would not think he is a dead apostle, but rather an angel.

Yes, an angel - as absurd as it may sound, this is the first impression "White Wing Lord" Trhvmn Ortenrosseh gives Shinji.

Golden hair, fair skin. Not the sickly pallor of common dead apostles, but a complexion as smooth and creamy as milk, the makes envy of countless women.

A physique more perfect than Michelangelo's David, a face without a single flaw, exuding an aura of transcendence beyond the mortal realm.

Most striking is the pure white wings radiating a holy glow, identical to the angels of myth and legend - the very origin of his title, "White Wing Lord."

If he were to walk among humans in such a form, he would surely inspire worship and veneration from many.

But Shinji would not be among them.

Regarding Ortenrosse's "angelic" appearance, Shinji's mind is filled only with endless mockery.

"That saying is proven true - not everything with wings is an angel, some might just be a birdman. And this guy is not only a birdman but a dead apostle birdman. The extremes do meet, don't they?"

"And this guy is just way too handsome. I know the True Ancestors are all incredibly good-looking, regardless of gender, but does the oldest dead apostle have to be this gorgeous too? Is he a magus who transformed himself, not a servant chosen by the True Ancestors?"

Ah, Shinji would never admit he's jealous of the other's superior looks. While Shinji himself is quite the handsome fellow, compared to Ortenrosse the difference is like that between a world beauty pageant winner and the other school beauty pageant - one in the heavens, the other on earth.

Driven by these emotions (though only slightly), Shinji felt he couldn't afford to appear weak.

The moment Ortenrosse unleashed the second claw, Shinji knew he couldn't dodge it. The Harpe, taller than his height, thrust straight into the ground, like a flag. Shinji's Vajra's Lef Arm empowered by the Sarira advanced, forming a sturdy defense line together with the Harpe.

Scáthach had once taught Shinji that no matter how cautious one is, it is never too much when one has not yet grasped the depth of the opponent's abilities, except for one's trump card. Therefore, Shinji took up the most complete defensive stance he could muster at the moment.

The five slashes derived from the second claw arrived as expected. The sound of the invisible blades colliding with the long handle of the sickle was more crisp and loud than the clash of real swords. The power carried by the slashes was more fierce than that of tangible blades.

Of course, the swords here were ordinary, not divine weapons like the Harpe. The sharpest part of the invisible slashes was blocked by the handle of the sickle, and the fragmented slashes cut through Shinji's clothes but did not penetrate the skin protected by the Sarira.

The second claw was defended against.

However, the first two attacks were merely greetings for Ortenrosse; the real attack had just begun.

This oldest of the dead apostles spread the pure white wings on his back and swooped forward.

In the blink of an eye, he had arrived above Shinji's head.

Shinji, who had just blocked the invisible slashes, pulled up the sickle, slanting his hand to deflect it towards Ortenrosse's chest. The latter was well prepared, one hand turning outward, the other twisting inward, with graceful movements - a dangerous beautiful strike.

The outward-turning hand precisely struck the joint of the sickle's blade, while the elbow that twisted inward simultaneously struck and pushed away Shinji's attempt to parry with his right hand. Immediately, the elbow extended and fiercely grappled Shinji's arm, swinging him around like a warrior rather than a magus, and slamming him away.

Ortenrosse did not give Shinji a chance to catch his breath, repeating the same tactic, the white robe and white wings surging forward, unrelenting.

In another blink of an eye, a claw struck Shinji's left arm, pushing him dozens of meters away.

To the world, it was the speed of a split second, but for the two of them, it was a long enough time to determine the course of the battle.

The third split second was approaching.