Chapter 275: Two in One

Klein relied on the Juggler's ability to control his expression, trying hard to comfort himself in his heart:

"It's just a rabbit, it simply can't speak human language, can't hit, can't eat."

"Heh~ hehe."

Daniz clamped both hands over his mouth, struggling to control his expression.

But the more he tried, the more he wanted to laugh, especially when he saw Tu Ba Ge's deadpan expression.

Hahaha! Gehrman Sparrow, so you finally have your day! You've finally felt the hateful mug of this dead fat rabbit too!

The next moment, a cold, evil, hungry, skin-crawling sensation filled the entire room.

Daniz instantly fell silent, his expression frozen on his face, the trace of a smile now looking worse than crying.

He looked at Gehrman Sparrow with a deathly pale face, mumbling through his lips:

"Ahem! Um... the laundered clothes should be about ready, I'll go to the laundry room to get them back from the maid."

"Someone will deliver them back," Klein said in a cold voice.

Daniz gave a sheepish laugh:

"Haha! By the time the maids deliver the laundered clothes to each room one by one it'll be evening. I'll go get them myself, it'll be faster, and they can dry earlier. Don't you think?"

He looked at the expressionless Gehrman before him with an almost fawning gaze, yet in his heart he kept cursing Tu Ba Ge, who had provoked Gehrman's anger and gotten him dragged into it too.

One more reason to eat rabbit. I want to eat gray-furred ones, lop-eared ones, three a day!!

Seeing that Klein did not reject his proposal, Daniz swiftly opened the door and left the room.

Only after stepping outside did he let out a long breath. Then, thinking of something, he cast a wary glance at Room 312 behind him, quickly composed his expression, and hastened his pace away from this area.

It was only after putting some distance between them that he finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then he thought again of the rabbit that had gotten him dragged into trouble, and spat lightly:

"Bullshit! That damned fat rabbit, sooner or later I'm going to burn every rabbit in the world into roast meat..."

Inside Room 312, Tu Ba Ge mumbled timidly, not daring to speak. Just now, the aura Klein had exuded through his writhing hunger made it feel like it was about to be eaten.

The swallowed-whole-and-flayed-alive kind. Absolutely terrifying for a rabbit.

Only when Klein retracted his aura did it breathe a sigh of relief. After recovering for a moment, it patted its chest and assured Klein:

"Don't worry, I absolutely won't spread word about your condition. The Boss said, a patient's condition is a secret, it can't be casually leaked."

"I'm the best physician on the Future! Whether it's kidney deficiency or a weak constitution, just one dose of medicine and it's cured!"

Klein's expression nearly broke. What breed was this rabbit exactly? How could it be as lacking in social awareness as that fat apothecary in Backlund—no, it was far more infuriating than that fat apothecary. At least he hadn't been angered by that fat apothecary yet.

Maintaining Gehrman Sparrow's persona, he gave a terse, cold explanation:

"I simply overconsumed my spirituality."

Tu Ba Ge looked at Klein, then glanced at the washroom in confusion. It hesitated for a moment, then revealed an expression of sudden understanding and nodded earnestly:

"I understand."

Saying that, it even extended two claws and made a zipping-the-lips gesture over its mouth.

Klein felt that this rabbit had definitely misunderstood what he meant, but to maintain Gehrman's persona, he had to shut his mouth and no longer bring up the topic.

What kind of nonsense had Arles taught this rabbit? Had he ever considered that this was just a rabbit?

Agreeing to help him look after this rabbit was the stupidest decision I've ever made!

On the White Whale Sea, the Golden Dream and the "Death Announcement" sailed one after the other across the sea surface, both sides relying on cannons and various Beyonder abilities to wage a battle of offense and defense.

In the bottom hold of the Golden Dream, brilliant starlight pierced through layer after layer of flooring. Amidst the surging specks of light, Reckton's figure reassembled within the fragments of starlight and manifested.

He reached out both hands and bent down to touch the floor of the hold.

Specks of starlight rapidly surged, and a portion of the Golden Dream's hull was instantly replaced by a translucent barrier shimmering with starlight.

The barnacles, scallops, oysters, and other organisms originally clinging to the hull fell away like raindrops, leaving only a cluster of bright red barnacles and algae of extremely abnormal size and shape, seemingly fused together, still tightly adhered to the starlight barrier.

Reckton rubbed his fingers together, summoning a sacred, pure, brilliant, and warm radiance.

This radiance pierced through the starlight barrier and fell into the seawater, creating a patch of translucent liquid tinged with a faint gold.

The holy water created with the power of the Sun domain drifted around those contaminated, mutated barnacles.

Hissing bubbles and black smoke continuously rose from that spot, then quickly dissipated.

In a short while, the mutated barnacles detached from the hull and sank into the deep sea.

The translucent starlight barrier at the hull abruptly vanished, and everything returned to normal.

A violet light surfaced in Reckton's eyes. His gaze pierced through layer upon layer of obstruction, seeing the battle aboard the Golden Dream, seeing the "Death Announcement" that had begun to hesitate.

The next moment, his figure suddenly blurred, swiftly turning transparent and vanishing from the spot.

On the deck of the Golden Dream, Senor, bound by one prohibition after another and besieged on all sides, had relied on his bizarre luck to turn the tide of battle to a certain degree.

After dodging yet another fine crystal arrow, he briefly transformed himself into a spirit-body state, his phantom form nearly transparent, the two wisps of black mustache on his lip drooping limply.

Edwena's prohibition, previously directed at the Wraith's shadow, took effect on him once more.

He fought through the weakness in his body, abruptly thrust his left hand forward, and let out a soundless shriek from his mouth—a shriek that could pierce eardrums and damage the spirit body.

For a moment, the fine crystal arrows that had just been gathering in Jodson's palm dispersed entirely. Scarlet, scalding blood gushed from his nose and ears, his eyes clearly lost focus, and his mind fell into a daze.

The frail constitution of the Marauder pathway became his most fatal weakness at this moment.

Bruce Walles, who likewise was not known for physical prowess, was no better off than him.

Only Piskes of the Hunter pathway and Daniels of the Sailor pathway were slightly better off, but they too fell into a bout of dizziness, drop after drop of nosebleed falling onto the deck.

Then, Senor raised his right hand, thumb and index finger perpendicular to each other, the remaining fingers curled, pointing at Jodson, who was radiating Beyonder abilities.

Wisps of black qi seeped out and swiftly took shape, transforming into a phantom skull wreathed in black qi that charged toward Jodson, carrying a thick aura of death, like an envoy dispatched from the underworld.

He grinned viciously. This annoying fellow was finally going to die. Next would be the second, the third...

The phantom skull wreathed in black qi struck Jodson accurately.

The malicious smile on Senor's face froze. Before his eyes appeared a matchstick that had just been extinguished, with a wisp of white smoke still rising from it.

Everything that had just happened was only an illusion—a realization dawned in his heart, and the next moment he wanted to endure the backlash of the prohibition and leave this ship via Mirror Traversal.

His movements and thoughts both suddenly became sluggish, as if he had entered a region where time flowed at a different rate.

Knowing that the other party possessed a miraculous item capable of briefly altering luck, Rekton was in no rush to kill him directly — doing so would instead trigger all sorts of absurd coincidences that might let him seize the chance to escape the Golden Dream.

Rekton slightly raised his right hand, and a phantom, ethereal figure of a beautiful woman materialized out of thin air, her eyes tightly shut as if fallen into eternal slumber.

In the next moment, that phantom, ethereal figure overlapped with Senior, and the hull of the Golden Dream gave an abrupt shudder; Senior stumbled and fell just like that, fortunately dodging the "Sleeping Beauty" magic.

Rekton did not mind in the least. He immediately reached out and pulled, using the mystical reenactment "Source of Peach Blossoms" to create a barrier isolated from the outside world and extremely difficult to breach.

He shut Senior inside the barrier alone; stripped of all factors of chance, even his brief streak of luck could not free him quickly.

Having done all this, Rekton stepped backward, his figure abruptly fading and vanishing, then swiftly reappearing on the deck at the stern.

Bright pale-blue radiance swirled in his eyes, and as he strode forward he uttered a word in Dragonese:

"Banish!"

As his hands made a pulling motion, an invisible, surging force abruptly appeared in the air ahead, and every attack from the Death Omen was churned into a single mass.

Riiiip!

The sound of shattering arose from the surrounding void; a rift connecting to an unknown place in the Spirit World was forced open, and driven by that invisible, surging force, all the attacks were banished to an unknown realm.

Before the next wave of attacks could arrive, Rekton swiftly shifted a distance away, appearing between the Golden Dream and the Death Omen.

In an instant, illusory golden flames ignited from thin air all around; these flames radiated the surging, pervasive aura of the sun, and by their density merged into a sea.

The pure and sacred golden-yellow sea of fire surged in wave after wave toward the Death Omen.

Aboard the Death Omen, crimson magma and pale-blue flame intertwined, surging forward like a volcanic eruption and colliding with the dense, unbroken golden-yellow fire.

Rekton watched the sea of interwoven golden, crimson, and pale-blue fire ahead, the corners of his lips curving slightly.

He of course knew these flames could not affect the Death Omen in any way, but they would block the line of sight between both sides and lessen the impact of the whispers in his ears.

He had sensed Klein going offline; without the paper-angel's protection, he could no longer remain immune to the whispers emanating from the Death Omen.

He rubbed his fingers together, conjuring a violent hurricane that swept the expanse of interwoven golden, crimson, and pale-blue fire ahead toward the Death Omen.

He then stopped dividing his attention to maintain those golden flames of light, and casually pulled a sheet of pale-yellow paper from his coat.

The paper took on metallic properties; he then drew and stretched it into an arm-length, abnormally sharp blade.

It could not only corrode flesh and annihilate souls and cleave through barriers, but also render the defenses of any creature harboring thoughts of depravity ineffective.

This was the core extraordinary ability of the Hanged Man pathway's Sequence 4 Black Knight — a blade of flesh and spirit born of the "Depravity" domain.

Used against the Abyss pathway's Death Omen, it had an exceedingly fine effect, even surpassing the Sun-domain abilities that countered all that was foul and depraved.

A hazy white film surfaced in his eyes as he used his prophetic ability to find the optimal point of attack.

The very moment his prophecy yielded a result, layered whispers sounded in his ears.

The Death Omen, being a Whisperer, had foreseen the source of danger and immediately exerted its influence in return.

Rekton felt his mind thrown into chaos; the emotions and desires previously suppressed by reason stirred restlessly, and he felt as though he had suffered a heavy blow, nearly plummeting straight from the sky.

Flesh writhed across his skin and dark, viscous liquid seeped forth — the manifestation of a curse upon him.

Almost in the next moment, a sacred, radiant, pure, and warm light descended from the heavens and fell upon him.

At the same time, a warm power instantly filled his body, freeing him from fear as the alien force within him was continuously purified.

Orpheus, second mate of the Golden Dream and a Notary, had aptly applied his influence at just the right moment, dispelling the various negative effects the whispers had inflicted on him.

Rekton eased slightly, though he also sensed the blade of flesh and spirit in his hand — born of the "Depravity" domain — beginning to tremble.

Clearly, the power of the Sun domain affected it as well.

Then he sensed light igniting behind him, and an intense Sun-domain aura rapidly gathering.

Was the Golden Dream's Purification Cannon finally about to be used? Murmuring inwardly, Rekton immediately climbed higher.

At the same time, he slightly raised his left hand and softly spoke a Dragonese word: "Frost!"

Following the direction of his finger, streams of crystal-clear flowing light, bearing a biting-cold aura, descended upon the Death Omen.

They were promptly swallowed by the ceaselessly surging black mist, leaving not a trace behind.

In the next moment, his heart gave a violent lurch, as if seized by an invisible hand mottled with red rust, and an overwhelming stench of sulfur flooded his nasal cavity.

"Cough! Cough!"

He coughed involuntarily, his throat so dry it felt as though sparks might fly from it.

The whispers in his ears suddenly intensified; he inevitably fell into a hallucinatory state, and the blade of flesh and spirit he held slipped from his grasp, reverting in midair into a pale sheet of paper before dropping into the sea.

Copious dark, viscous liquid once more gushed from his body, and the suppressed emotions and desires erupted without warning.

His body thinned and grew brittle, then finally burst apart and shattered, dissolving into depraved black mist.

"Cough! Cough!"

Rekton's figure stepped out from the void not far away, his left hand covering his lips as he coughed from time to time.

That lethal whisper attack just now had been evaded by his use of the mystical reenactment "Emperor's New Clothes," turning himself into something that simply did not exist and thereby slipping past it.

But the earlier portion of the whispers had already affected him greatly; "Emperor's New Clothes" and the paper substitute had only helped him dodge the two most fatal strikes.

"Cough~"

With a light cough, he extended his right hand forward, and a black, glossy chess piece like jade appeared between his index and middle fingers; as he pressed down gently, an invisible ripple rippled toward the Death Omen.

In the next moment, the Death Omen, churning with dense black mist, seemed to enter a zone of decelerated time; its movements and everything aboard it slowed dozens of times over.

Several seconds passed in the outside world, yet for the Death Omen it was but an instant.

In the next moment, a blazing white, pure, searingly brilliant light flared upon the sea.

The Golden Dream's Purification Cannon, having completed its calibration and preparations, finally fired a single shot.

The Death Omen, trapped in its slowed state, had no way to dodge; it could only churn out more black mist, gathering it into a nearly solid, viscous black liquid that coated its surface.

Boom!

The Black Death rocked violently, and a breach was melted through the viscous black liquid coating its surface.

Boom!

Another bombardment struck, shattering the high-rising front portion of the "Death Herald," turning its hull, which resembled a crescent moon, into a crescent missing a corner.

Rekton then slightly raised his right hand, light gathering in his palm, gradually condensing into a spear of utmost purity and blazing whiteness, as if composed of pure sunlight.

Without any locking-on or prophecy, he threw it directly.

The spear trailed a blazing white stream through the air, then sank in through the breach opened by the Purification, and a miniature sun of such extreme blazing whiteness that it could illuminate a city rose from the "Death Herald."

The next moment, demonic words filled with filth and corruption from the Abyss echoed in his ears layer upon layer:

"Die! Die! Die!."

Rekton's body was instantly covered in mottled red rust and burst into flames that reeked of sulfur, then turned into scraps of paper within the flames, reducing to flying ash.

Aboard the Golden Dream, Rekton's figure swiftly outlined itself on the deck.

"Cough~ Cough~"

He covered his mouth and coughed twice, looking toward Edwina on the other side:

"Let's accelerate away from here. That on the sea was merely a split body of the 'Death Herald.' The gains from continuing to fight it wouldn't cover your expenditure of spirituality for conducting the ritual to charge the Purification Cannon."

Edwina nodded gently. She turned to look at the Navigation Officer beside her, and her voice spread throughout the entire Golden Dream through a secret art:

"Adjust course, accelerate away from these waters!"

She gave Rekton a slight nod, then entered the captain's cabin, where a ritual had long been prepared.

She rubbed her fingers together, generating a spark through friction with spirituality, lit a candle, skillfully dripped essential oil and hydrosol into the flame, and chanted in a low voice:

"Follower of knowledge and wisdom, ancient guardian, eye that perceives the world, sage enthroned in the sky, guardian of reason and knowledge."

"I pray to You;

I pray that a noble one who can heal disease and suffering may descend."

The candle flame flickered violently, spirituality transforming into specks of luminescence that began to converge, merging with information from the depths of the Spirit World.

Amidst the shining light, the phantom of a unicorn appeared—entirely snow-white, with a spiraling crystal-patterned horn upon its head and wings on its back formed of what seemed like tiny crystalline chips.

It raised its head and let out a crisp, resonant neigh toward the sky. Its voice pierced through layer upon layer of walls, reaching everyone's ears—a crisp sound that seemed to cleanse the soul.

Then, like a ghost, it passed through the walls and flew out of Edwina's captain's cabin.

It scattered sheets of bright, radiant, and pure warm light across the Golden Dream, light bearing the power of purification, life, and solace.

All the crew members affected by the babbling received significant healing.

Their agitated emotions and desires, stirred up earlier by the babbling, had been forcefully suppressed by Edwina with cold, restrained rationality—this was equivalent to temporarily plugging a leak; had it not been dealt with in time, it would have erupted far more severely.

However, because Rekton had been keeping the "Death Herald" tied down all along, and coupled with the Golden Dream being Edwina's home ground, the crew's emotions and desires were not directly ignited.

On the foredeck of the Golden Dream, Edwina held a purplish-red mirror with strange patterns engraved on its back. Above the mirror was carved a pair of eyes imbued with peculiar magic, compelling anyone to gaze at them.

She turned to look at Rekton beside her:

"How much longer before the Admiral of Blood can break free from that barrier you created?"

"Now."

As Rekton's words fell, the space before them seemed to overlap, connecting with an unknown place.

A figure wearing a weathered tricorn hat, with two wisps of black mustache above his lip and a pale face, stepped out from the barrier isolated from reality.

He cast a vigilant gaze forward, his figure suddenly turning ethereal and transparent, vanishing before everyone's eyes.

Edwina unhurriedly turned the mirror in her hand toward herself. What surfaced in the mirror was Senior's somewhat pale figure.

A mass of black, phantom flame suddenly shot from her palm, and she wiped it across the mirror's surface.

On a crew member not far away, phantom black flames erupted simultaneously, and he fell to the ground, struggling in evident discomfort.

The next moment, Senior's transparent, drifting figure emerged from the man's body, with dark, ethereal flames following him constantly, burning him.

Edwina wiped her palm across the mirror once more, and a layer of frost abruptly condensed on the mirror's surface.

Senior's spirit body instantly went rigid, unable to even keep his thoughts active.

He strained to extend his left hand forward, opening his mouth to let out a piercing shriek—

Rekton waved his hand toward the sky, and a swan suddenly appeared, dropping a stalk of nettle toward Senior.

This scene appeared quite abruptly, or perhaps the fortune brought by that Lucky Balance had begun to backfire—Senior made no evasive move and let the stalk of nettle fall onto him.

He temporarily lost the ability to speak; he opened his mouth to let out a piercing shriek, but no sound ever came forth.

(End of this chapter)