Chapter 538, Section 537: Fear
Having her whereabouts exposed, Fei Ling leaped down from the beam, drew her short bow taut in mid-air, and aimed an arrow straight at Jin Ni's throat!
However, the arrow missed its target.
A black-robed cultist standing to the side and behind the priest, as if he had expected it, took a step to the side, flicked his long staff, and deflected the arrow, which was driven into a wooden pillar beside him, its tail feathers trembling violently.
Vera emerged from the shadows behind the stone pillar, his scimitar in hand. His gaze swept over Anton and the other sacrifices, finally settling on Ginny's face: "Release them, and we'll leave immediately."
Ginny didn't answer, but simply shook her head slightly, as if rejecting an unreasonable request from a child.
Then, she raised the simply decorated white staff in her hand and waved it gently at the black-robed believers around her.
Unleash your potential!
As if it were a signal, the black-robed cultists, armed with various weapons, charged forward with low growls.
Facing the onrushing cultists, Vera stood at the forefront, weaving through the gaps in the flashing blades, firmly drawing the pressure to a few feet in front of her.
Feiyin followed behind, chanting rapidly. The pale green binding light bands and the occasional light of the pale blue shield always delayed the enemy's encirclement or blocked sneak attacks at crucial moments.
Felix moved up and down, her arrows not aiming for a single, fatal blow, but rather targeting the weakest point in the enemy formation each time, or interrupting an imminent siege, cutting off and disrupting the numerically superior enemy, preventing them from taking advantage of their numbers.
With their perfect teamwork, the three managed to stop the cultists' attack.
However, the balance was disrupted with the arrival of the cultist wielding a stick.
His skill, already evident in his use of the Griffin Arrow, was now unleashed with his potential unleashed, making his movements so fast they left afterimages.
Taking advantage of Vera's moment when he drew his longsword, he charged into the fray. He twisted the arrow that Filyn shot at him to the side and then delivered a powerful, unadorned front kick, slamming it into the back of Vera's hastily defending blade.
Vera flew backward uncontrollably, crashing into a row of rotten benches before coming to a stop.
The cultists wielding clubs were relentless, giving Vera no chance to regroup. Their attacks were endless, and Vera could only defend herself, her scimitar clashing with her clubs, sparks flying, but she could only retreat step by step, facing constant danger.
Vera was suppressed, and the coordination between the three of them broke down, putting even more pressure on Felix and Felix!
Faced with the surging cultists, Fei Ling's arrows became rapid, struggling to block enemies from multiple directions simultaneously. Fei Yin's protective spells flickered, appearing shaky under the increasing attacks.
The situation was urgent, and Vera dared not hold back any longer.
The way he held the knife changed; his elbows dipped slightly, and the trajectory of his arm's power shifted from direct resistance to a more subtle, natural flow.
The long staff that came at Vera grazed the spine of the scimitar, and Vera used the force to slide half a step to the side like flowing water. Not only did she avoid the fatal blow, but in the instant that they passed each other, the scimitar, taking advantage of the momentum of the staff's forward thrust, slashed upwards in an incredible arc!
Sizzle—!
The cultist, who had just been in complete control, now had a deep, bone-revealing wound slashed across his front, running diagonally from his right rib to his left shoulder!
If this cultist hadn't instinctively leaned back at the last moment, this slash would have been enough to disembowel him.
Vera learned this swordsmanship from the alien soldiers in the mist; it was a rather ruthless style, which he didn't actually like.
But this is clearly not an occasion where personal preferences matter.
Vera pressed her advantage relentlessly, forcing the cultists into a panicked retreat, on the verge of defeat.
Just as Vera reversed the situation and Filyn Filyn tried to get back together due to the reduced pressure, Ginny, who had been standing quietly on the edge of the ceremony as if she were an outsider, finally made a new move.
A pale blue flame silently ignited in her palm.
“Mortals are always like this, unable to distinguish between good and bad. I don’t want you to suffer, but… the ritual must continue, the high priest is waiting for me.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she gently pinched her fingers together.
The dark blue flame in her palm did not explode, but instead transformed into a pale blue halo that spread out from her center.
As the halo swept by, everyone fell silent, from the roaring cultists to the three struggling Vera, and even the goblin in the corner who had managed to break free of his restraints.
...
The scene before Vera shifted, as if she had returned to the mist once more.
He witnessed firsthand how the fog, like a greedy beast, swallowed up those familiar faces.
Among the friends I drank with, there was Xilian, who was always very mature and refused to reveal his real age; and finally, there were Feiling and Feiyin, who screamed and reached out but were futilely swept away by the mist.
The fog surged toward him, trying to drag him into it.
Retreat? No!
Instead of retreating, Vera advanced, charging straight into the mist!
They're still inside! He's going to drag them out!
The moment you touch the mist, it's like a bucket of ice water being poured over your head, and all the illusory scenes shatter instantly.
He remained kneeling on the cold ground of the abandoned church, his scimitar lying not far from his hand, his chest heaving with heavy breathing.
"elder sister……"
"I was wrong, I was wrong..."
A chorus of fearful whimpers and mutterings filled the air.
Whether it was the berserk black-robed cultists or Fei Ling and Fei Yin, they were all collapsed on the ground, some curled up and trembling, others muttering to themselves with empty eyes, clearly trapped in their own deepest fears and illusions, unable to extricate themselves.
The only ones remaining conscious in the arena were the caster, Ginny, and... the cultist wielding the stick.
He braced himself with a staff, his body swaying slightly, cold sweat beading on his forehead, as if he had just broken free from the illusion. However, he was a fraction faster than Vera and stepped on Vera's scimitar.
Seeing that Vera had also quickly regained her senses, a clear look of surprise flashed across his eyes.
"Such a firm will is rare even among devout believers. It's a pity."
With the iron rod pressed against her chest, Vera was already in a life-or-death situation: "You're faster."
The cultist with the stick shook his head: "It's not that it's faster, it's just... I've had more experience, and I've gained some insignificant knowledge. When I first fell into it, I was far inferior to you."
Although he admired Vera's willpower, he had no intention of holding back.
"Vera...no, don't leave me alone..." Not far away, Phil's unconscious murmurs entered Vera's ears.
“I won’t…” Vera responded softly.
In an instant, it was as if something had been activated.
The cultist wielding the stick and Ginny, who was watching quietly from a distance, both felt a sudden pang of fear!
The long stick that the cultists had originally aimed at Vera's shoulder turned towards Vera's head!
However, at this moment a figure rushed in from outside, holding a short dagger high, and lunged at the back of the cultist holding the stick!
It was the escaped cult member. At this moment, his eyes were purple, his face was full of happiness, and he seemed completely unaware of what he was doing.
The long stick had to change its trajectory again, sweeping backward and hitting the attacker squarely in the chest.
The attacker's chest visibly caved in, blood gushed from his mouth, and he flew out like a rag doll, crashing into the wall and falling silent.
"Useless trash!" In the shadows outside the church, the succubus Mengya, who was secretly watching the battle, stomped her feet in anger. She had just spent a lot of effort to barely control a mentally fragile guy, but she didn't expect him to be killed in the blink of an eye.
Seeing that the situation was hopeless, Mengya was preparing to make a runaway.
Inside the church, the battle situation subtly changed due to this unexpected interference.
The cultist wielding the club was somewhat confused by the attack from his own people, but his men didn't hesitate and smashed the club at Vera again.
This time, when his gaze swept over Vera, he no longer saw prey cornered in a desperate situation.
Those were a pair of eyes.
Before anyone knew it, Vera had already stood up straight.
A pure and holy light shone deep within his eyes, completely out of place with his blood-stained and disheveled appearance.
The scimitar that had been trampled under the cultist's feet was now firmly held in Vera's hand, its cold tip completely embedded in the cultist's chest.
"This is……?"
Vera's condition, however, seemed a bit off.
He did not answer his opponent's final question, nor did he even glance at Ginny, who had retreated in the chaos.
He simply withdrew his scimitar slowly, letting his opponent's corpse slump to the ground.
Then, he turned around, knelt down beside Fei Ling and Fei Yin, and checked their condition, the light in his eyes slowly fading.
Outside, Mengya stared blankly at the suddenly reversed situation inside, unsure whether she should jump out.
Looking at Fei Ling on the ground, he felt a vague sense of envy that he couldn't quite explain.
...
On the other side, a battle of epic proportions also came to an end.
The battlefield was a mess, with the cultists who had been caught up lying sprawled on the ground, some bearing dark green poison marks, others embedded with splinters of broken wood.
In mid-air, the slime and the scout passed each other for the last time, bringing with them a few splashes of slime and broken mycelium.
A gentle breeze swept through the forest clearing, and the scout's mangled mushroom body swayed twice before finally collapsing to the ground, lifeless.
The slime's condition was equally miserable.
Its once plump body had shrunk by nearly half, its color had become dull, and the ground around it was covered with its splattered dark green slime.
We won.
Despite the fierce victory, it was ultimately the one that stood until the very end.
If you win, you naturally want to collect the spoils of war.
It crawled over, intending to dissolve and digest its opponent.
call out!
A mushroom cannon shot landed less than a foot in front of it, blasting a small crater and sending dirt flying.
Plop, plop, plop—
Three scouts, almost identical in appearance and size to the corpse on the ground, quietly appeared and surrounded it.
The exhausted slime froze in place...
(End of this chapter)
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