Chapter 382: The Five-Second Hero
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 382: The Five-Second Hero
"Four Aces?"
The moment that breeze drifted past, Margarita and Annie both froze.
Aces?
What did he mean by "Four Aces"?
They rarely associated with the vulgarities of gambling, so it took them a moment to grasp the meaning behind Muen’s words.
The two women, who had been brimming with heroic resolve just a second ago, subconsciously glanced at each other. Then, their gazes naturally drifted downward, landing on each other’s...
Well, at least she’s smaller than me.
This small sense of relief flickered through both their minds simultaneously, but the faint smiles on their lips froze almost instantly.
...
Five seconds... I might have talked a bit too much smack.
Deep azure eyes reflected the image of the others struggling to suppress the Prisoner. Muen couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
In the heat of the moment, he had let that boast slip.
Showing off in front of others wasn't usually his style; if possible, he preferred to maintain his usual low profile. Though, as handsome as he was, being truly low-key was a difficult feat.
"Still... keeping one's word is an essential quality of an elite knight."
Muen gripped his dual blades. At that moment, he could clearly feel the excited hum of the living spirit within Elizabeth.
Fighting Spirit and Mana surged through his limbs. Simultaneously, the alchemy core on his back let out a searing hum as it shifted into full gear.
The First Second.
Dong.
Knowing that time was of the essence, the group—aside from the dim-witted Reta—all felt their expressions shift as they worked to pin the Prisoner.
For a fleeting moment, they seemed to hear the grand, ethereal chime of a clock echoing from the depths of the infinite void.
Then, before their internal danger senses could even trigger, a blond figure abruptly burst into their field of vision.
And with him came the sound of thunder.
It was a strange sort of thunder.
It sounded as if countless bolts had been sealed within a recording device and then played back at a fraction of the speed, overlapping one another in a slow, heavy cacophony.
At the same time, a low, calm male voice reached their ears with startling speed.
"Attack together. Pin him down with everything you've got."
The Second Second.
The scruffy-faced Paul’s eyes lit up. He was the first to react. His black longsword, which he had been forced to use with blunt, raw strength—the kind of brute force that couldn't even overpower Margarita—suddenly changed. Sharp sword qi instantly coiled around the blade.
"Divine Will: Heavenless."
The sword light slashed through the darkness, sending blinding sparks flying off the Prisoner’s body.
The high-quality alchemical sword failed to breach the Prisoner’s incredibly tough hide, but under Paul’s masterful technique, the Prisoner’s frame suddenly lurched.
He had lost his balance.
Simultaneously, a whistling wind nearly tore at their eardrums as a long spear swept down with brutal force, slamming into the Prisoner’s shoulder.
Thunder Spear’s expression remained cold as her short hair whipped in the gale. Her long sleeves billowed, and the spear shaft bent slightly under her seemingly slender grip, unleashing a terrifying, unimaginable weight.
Creeeak.
One of the Prisoner’s knees buckled violently, unable to withstand the pressure.
The Third Second.
"Roar!"
The mountain-like figure let out a beastly howl. Thick, scalding steam hissed from the vents of the mechanical arm belonging to the freak named Reta.
The bone knife, taller than a grown man, looked like a child's toy in his hands. When the blade descended, everyone felt the very ground shudder.
Creeeak.
The second knee buckled. The Prisoner was forced into a kneeling position once more.
Almost simultaneously, the gravity and shadow magic acting upon the Prisoner seemed to intensify.
The lantern swung violently. The Prisoner’s body suddenly felt as heavy as a mountain. The black shadows swallowed him like a swamp, the immense suction and gravitational pull binding his frame, forcing him to bend, inch by inch, toward the earth...
The Fourth Second.
"Please... forgive me..."
A furious fire ignited once more within the Prisoner’s hollow eye sockets. A foul, miasmic wind swirled, turning his tattered cloak into a billowing sail.
Countless tadpole-like golden runes vibrated violently, racing across the surface of his withered flesh.
Ding-ling, ding-ling.
The lantern was slowly raised again. Accompanied by the ear-grating sound of grinding joints, the Prisoner—who had looked like dry kindling ready to snap under the storm of attacks—actually began to support himself... and stand.
It was a sight that made their hearts seize.
"It’s not enough," Paul muttered, his brow furrowing in a rare display of concern.
If this continued, it would just be a repeat of what happened before.
This damn thing was tougher than he’d imagined. With their current strength, they could eventually suppress him, but the problem was time.
Time, time—time was the most critical factor. What are the others doing? Just watching the show? And that Brian—he’s clearly a martial artist, so why has he only been using magic? In this situation, a martial artist is far more effective than a mage...
Paul’s mind raced, and then he suddenly remembered.
It was the Duke’s son who had told them to attack together. So, what was he doing?
...
In the next instant, the thunder roared.
The Fifth Second.
The thunderclaps that had been condensed, compressed, and stretched out over the past several seconds were suddenly released all at once.
Even though countless magical torrents were still glowing and burning, the surrounding space seemed to turn dim.
In that moment, a light ignited within everyone’s stunned eyes.
A single flash of a blade.
It was as if the blade light was the only thing left in the world.
Zheng—
The blades hummed. The piercing light was like the Milky Way falling from the heavens, slashing down upon the Prisoner in an instant.
Sixty-fold Time Dilation.
Twenty-Stack Thunder Roar.
Five seconds of charging.
One strike.
Slash.
The Prisoner’s body buckled instantly. He was already enduring the terrifying suppression of the others; Muen’s strike was the final weight that broke the camel's back, finally forcing him... completely prostrate on the ground.
Exactly five seconds.
After the strike, Muen drove his dual blades through the Prisoner’s palms, pinning him down, and stepped firmly onto the Prisoner’s head.
The wild wind tossed his short blond hair. In this moment, his expression was gentle.
"Liya."
He called out softly.
Then, a holy light erupted.
While everyone else was still reeling from the shock, unable to believe how quickly the scene had shifted, that sacred radiance had already been primed. It rose without a moment's delay.
She trusted him.
Just as he trusted her.
He said five seconds.
So, after five seconds, the light of purification arrived exactly on cue.
"[Purification]"
The divine light fell upon the Prisoner.
Liya clasped her hands together, praying fervently to the Goddess.
"Ah... Goddess..."
The Prisoner began to thrash in violent, agonizing tremors, a raspy roar tearing from his throat.
"Goddess... forgive me..."
"Forgive the sinner..."
"Goddess..."
He repeated the murmurs incessantly, trying to resist, but a faint, ethereal shadow seemed to be struggling to break free from within that deathly still body.
Just as Liya had said, the soul imprisoned within was yearning for salvation.
"Goddess..."
"Goddess..."
"Goddess..."
Under the radiance of the holy light, the phantom finally stepped out from the lifeless husk. He walked toward Liya and slowly sank to his knees.
"Thank you."
Crystal tears seemed to flow down that blurred face.
It looked like liberation.
"Thank you... and..."
Before the phantom vanished, he whispered in a voice as faint and hazy as a dream:
"Be careful of the God—"
Another wisp of radiance was added to Liya’s crystal.