Chapter 512: Unchanging Until Death

I need to work; I can't stop, or I'll be fired.

The doll nailed to the ground by several spears flashing with starlight struggled violently; its oil-painted expression grew hideous, and streams of thick black liquid flowed from the eye sockets of its mask.

Lekton half-squatted, his voice carrying a subtle undulating spirituality, said:

What happens if I get fired?

I can't be fired; I can't.

I want to stay in the church; I cannot leave the Lord who will save me.

The doll nailed to the ground muttered deliriously, almost like a howl, and began to struggle hard.

Click-clack! Click-clack! The doll's violent struggle tore its body into chunks, and assorted parts mixed with black, sticky grease scattered everywhere.

Suicide? What a fate-bound laborer, even self-harm has to go to work. Klein, seeing this via the link he set up in his palace above the Grey Mist, couldn't help but remark.

Maybe their factory setting is to work until death; Lekton shrugged, replied in his heart, and at the same time rose and stepped back two steps.

As he retreated, the scattered parts on the ground vanished one after another, turning into dry flowers made of colored paper and wood shavings.

In another patch of dry flowers, a doll reassembled and holding huge scissors stepped out, its feet treading on paper-made green leaves, with not a single dry flower.

It might not be the gardener here, but it must be the guard; so-called pruning plants feels more like killing intruders.

Lekton, while chatting with Klein in his mind via 'spiritual communication', turned to face the doll wielding the huge scissors.

The doll's head wore a giant bird-skull mask that continuously oozed thick black liquid, covering the oil-painted face on the skull.

Crack!

The doll's huge scissors in its hand snapped open and shut, making a cracking sound; the inner blade burst forth with mercury-like silver-white light, crossing space to strike directly at Lekton's standing position.

As the silver-white light swept across Lekton's body, he instantly turned translucent, illusory, and became a mass of foam.

The scissors in the doll's hand opened and closed rapidly, emitting continuous crackling sounds; silver-white light flickered swiftly in the air, linking into a fine storm of light that shattered each floating foam.

A weakened version of the 'Light Storm', the doll's scissors seem quite formidable; they are special, capable of unleashing attack power approaching that of a demigod.

You want? The cold, ruthless mad adventurer Geerman·Sparro using scissors as a weapon seems a bit odd.

Lekton muttered a complaint in his heart, and his figure vanished again.

At the spot where he disappeared, two sharp silver-white streaks crossed in midair, carrying a sharpness as if they could rend space itself.

The next instant, Lekton's figure appeared directly behind the doll holding the huge scissors.

The huge scissors, glowing with silver-white light, traced a semicircle in the doll's hand at extreme speed, dragging a silver-white afterimage in the air, and instantly passed through Lekton's waist without causing any harm.

Lekton stared straight at the doll wielding the scissors before him; deep blue‑near‑purple radiance flowed in his pupils, tracing one mysterious symbol after another, with threads of silver‑white light darting between them, like lightning from the depths of consciousness.

As his pupils flickered, a strong mental attack erupted; the doll's motion of waving the scissors stalled, its bird‑skull‑masked head jerked back 90 degrees, and the mask stained with black liquid emitted a series of cracks, its surface splitting open in many tiny fissures.

Seizing the doll's moment of dazedness, Lekton chanted in the Dragon Tongue: 'Frost!'

Centered on him, crystalline streams of light fell from the air, turning into heavy frost upon contact with objects, freezing the entire garden within; the doll, head thrown back and dazed, and the trees made of colored paper, metal sheets, and wood blocks all became hung with icicle after icicle.

The surrounding temperature plummeted, and the white breath exhaled from his mouth became clearly visible.

What do you want to do? Frost probably can't resolve this doll. Klein's doubt echoed in Lekton's mind via 'spiritual communication'.

Let's run an experiment; I'm curious about the scissors' ability.

While communicating with Klein in his mind, Lekton held out his palms and produced a slowly rotating clump of Star Sand.

One star after another appeared, dense and dazzling.

These stars linked together, slowly moving, drawing mysterious sigils in the air; the faint starlight around him nearly solidified into an extremely thick, extremely sturdy barrier.

Meanwhile, yellowish light spots continually appeared in the frost‑covered area; at the very center of each spot, the doll wrapped in heavy frost turned wholly golden, like the setting sun at dusk—bright but not glaring. The yellowish light grew stronger, and through the frost's refraction it resembled one shattered fragment of light after another.

They were countless and dense, forming a flashing, violent, razor‑sharp gale that swept outward in all directions, a terrifying blow laden with destruction.

This resembles the 'Light Storm' of the 'Dawn Knight', but is more dangerous and destructive—a 'Twilight Storm'—anything touched by that yellowish light will wither, rot, wilt, die, lose vitality, and be torn apart by the violent, sharp storm.

"Indeed." Inside the thick starlight barrier, Lekton watched this unfold without too much surprise.

What extraordinary ability is this? An advanced version of the 'Light Storm'? Above the Grey Mist, Klein, seeing clearly through Lekton's view what had just happened, immediately voiced his question.

Lekton stood calmly behind the starlight barrier, watching the 'Twilight Storm' ravage the garden, and murmured softly:

"To be precise, it should be a variant, called the 'Twilight Storm'; the scissors in its hand ought to be a wondrous item forged from the traits of the 'Gatekeeper' and the 'Guardian', combined with residual auras from the God‑forsaken Land.

No wonder I kept thinking that strange doll's scissors were the real thing; Klein sighed in his heart.

The 'Twilight Storm' lasted about ten seconds before gradually fading; as the yellowish light receded, the garden became bare, with the floor and surrounding walls showing varying degrees of decay.

The sturdy barrier built from brilliant starlight instantly dissolved into a mist of starlight enveloping the whole garden.

An ancient‑styled spear, its tip to shaft ablaze with clusters of dark‑red blood‑like light, suddenly slashed forth like a dark‑red meteor, piercing straight through the doll ahead holding the scissors; its powerful impact nailed it to the ground and crushed it piece by piece from inside out.

After Lekton approached, the doll nailed to the ground had completely vanished, leaving no trace except the huge scissors slanted into the ground beside it.

Perhaps the earlier rampage of the 'Twilight Storm' had saturated the surroundings with rich 'decay' and 'death', or perhaps the doll's body was shattered too thoroughly to revive this time.

Tiny specks of dark‑green‑tinged black light, mixed with fine yellowish and silver‑white, rose from where the doll's body had been and swiftly gathered into the scissors slanted into the ground.

"The doll's body had long been marinated by these scissors, so the traits released upon its death were also gathered by the scissors.

Lekton, as if explaining to Klein above the Grey Mist, murmured lowly, then reached out, gripped the scissors' handle, and pulled it from the ground.

These scissors are huge—about the length of an adult's whole arm—overall gray‑black, with a silver‑white blade edge in the middle, and the entire surface patterned with peculiar oil‑painted motifs, half dark green, half yellowish, like countless intertwined cyclopes, giant serpents, and feathers.

The huge scissors lay horizontally across Lekton's chest; his deep‑blue pupils flickered once, becoming profoundly deep, his eyes losing focus and appearing blank.

After a brief lapse, his eyes quickly cleared; he also noticed that the skin on the palm of his left hand, where he gripped the scissors, had become finely cracked, with faint age spots appearing.

The side effects are strong indeed; with your demigod body, just holding it a moment already triggers a reaction.

Lekton gave a slight nod and said:

"It is itself a powerful weapon; merely holding it hides one's malice and certain actions, each attack randomly carrying penetration, decay, rot, anti‑magic, and purification effects, it can launch a spatial strike within 50 meters, and it can also summon a fearsome 'Twilight Storm'.

"Of course, most importantly, its attacks have a certain chance to unleash a lethal blow—true, absolute death; any being without divinity cannot resist it, and even those with divinity will suffer grave injury, though the trigger probability is low.

"At the same time, the wielder cannot defend; defensive spells fail to take effect on them, but correspondingly, their attack power is greatly enhanced.

"Its negative effects are equally powerful; as long as one holds it, the ears are incessantly filled with shrill wails and howls like those from the depths of the underworld—a mental assault that can drive one mad and rob reason, and once a certain limit is exceeded, it becomes hard to reverse, turning the holder into its slave.

Any living creature that touches it will inevitably march toward death, and even inanimate objects will rot and decay after prolonged contact.

Because the materials used to forge it were tainted with the aura and death‑madness left by some great beings, even those who have never used it will cause those around them to die or go mad suddenly and without cause.

Hmm, let's call it 'Until Death Do Us Part.' After being sealed, it can barely be used; you just need to purify yourself after each use.

'Until Death Do Us Part'? Does it have any tragic love story?' Leiketon raised the corners of his mouth and gave his explanation: 'It has a lethal property; as long as you persist in using it, it will definitely be triggered.'

I don't understand; just be happy. Above the Grey Mist, Kelaisen leaned back in the high‑backed chair, murmuring to himself in bewilderment.

He paused, then added in his mind that the Tarot Club was about to start.

"I understand," Leiketon nodded slightly, murmuring to himself.

His figure turned translucent, forming a statue woven from countless glittering starlight, which shattered into sand; the brilliant starlight flickered and drifted away from the temple.

(End of chapter)