Chapter 591: Intense Battle
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 591: Intense Battle
"Well? Is it too late to turn back now?"
Standing in the center of the road, Archbishop Canterbury asked in a low, steady voice.
One street, two distinct zones, and three experts of the same rank.
The Indra King had only just stepped into this city. Before he even had a chance to take in the sights of this grand capital, he had slammed into the sturdiest of walls.
It seemed there was no longer any possibility of moving forward.
Knowing the gravity of the situation, even Canterbury couldn't help but sigh. "Go back, Indra King. There is still a chance to turn around. If you persist in your delusions and refuse to listen to reason, we’ll have no choice but to use our fists."
"Tsk, tsk. Six fists against two..."
Adolf clicked his tongue in wonder. "I feel like even my grandmother would have a shot at winning this one."
"Fighting with superior numbers is indeed a bit unsporting." Prang rubbed his cane. "If possible, I still hope you’ll know when to quit. If you’re looking for death, why not go straight to the Academy and challenge that person instead?"
"..."
Faced with their dissuasion, the Indra King did not answer. He remained silent.
Those turbid eyes, devoid of any focus, slowly swept over the three men before him.
Then, he closed them.
Everything fell into a dead silence.
No one spoke; everyone held their breath, waiting patiently.
It felt as long as a century.
Yet, it was as if only a single moment had passed.
He opened his eyes again.
"I have said it before."
The Indra King finally spoke.
His voice was calm, devoid of fear or cowardice.
Or perhaps, he was merely stating a decision he had made long ago.
"Whoever blocks me, I kill."
Hum.
A dazzling light suddenly illuminated the block.
A radiant Crown rose from the top of the Indra King’s head.
The Crown appeared to be forged from diamonds and glazed glass, encircled by inscriptions of the sun, moon, and stars, with phantoms of all things in the world flowing within it.
As the brilliance bloomed, an endless majesty suddenly erupted from this old man in tattered robes. Though he physically looked no different, it felt as if he had taken a step beyond humanity at this moment, sublimating toward a higher existence.
The phantom light was magnificent; the entire city seemed small beneath the old man's feet.
He raised his hand, aimed it at Adolf, and pressed down gently.
Thump.
It sounded like a midnight bell, yet felt like a tremor of the heart.
In an instant, the entire space froze, as if everything within it had been seized in his palm.
Everything in that area seemed to stagnate, eerily fixed like a scene in a photograph. Adolf was frozen as well, his previous frivolous expression still lingering on his face.
Then, creak, crack—accompanied by the sound of something shattering—the inn where Adolf stood, and even the vast surrounding blocks, collapsed instantly like a sandcastle hit by a wave, turning into dust that danced in the night wind.
Including Adolf himself.
Everything was annihilated by that infinite, transcendent power.
But seeing this, the Indra King showed no joy. It was as if he had sensed something.
"Motherfucker! There are three of us here, including a mage, yet you target me first? Are you just picking the softest persimmon to squeeze?"
Another brilliant Crown rose as the "other" Adolf stepped out of space, completely unharmed, though he was stomping his feet in anger.
He casually tossed the flower—now reduced to a mere bud—into the cold night wind. He stared at the Indra King with a cold sneer, his eyes brewing with multicolored brilliance, like the entire starry sky and a silver waterfall converging within them.
The Star-seeing Eyes.
These eyes carried the innate ability to see through the flow of any power. It was said to be a blessing from a certain deity. This special power had earned Adolf the title of "Mage Killer" even back when he was a young boy. It was rumored that no female mage over the age of thirty was his match for even a single round. This allowed him, a pure martial artist, to command immense respect even within the magical community.
And once Adolf stepped into the realm of the Crowned, those eyes were no longer limited to merely seeing through things.
Under the gaze of those eyes, the fighting spirit surrounding the Indra King—cultivated through decades of bitter practice and circulating in a profound, mysterious manner—suddenly became like headless flies, scattering in a chaotic mess.
The Indra King’s techniques began to collapse at their very source, unable to take effect.
Universal Law Disintegration.
This was the terrifying aspect of these eyes. For any meticulously "constructed" power, they could exert influence from the most fundamental level. The more precise and complex the power, the more it would be affected. It was like a house having its foundation pulled out; no matter how magnificent the architecture, it would eventually crumble into a pile of dirt.
The vast majority of mages couldn't even cast a spell in front of Adolf.
This was the terror of the "Mage Killer," the Stargazer Adolf.
But... faced with such an influence, the Indra King’s gaze remained calm.
Because he was not a mage.
He was the purest of martial artists, a Crowned.
If he couldn't use complex techniques, then...
The Indra King took a step forward, and the ground shook violently.
Then he extended his palm, pressing toward Adolf in that same straightforward manner.
That hand was withered and sallow, like the hand of an old farmer who had spent his life tilling fields under the sun. The deep furrows in his palm spoke of the vicissitudes of time.
Yet, under the pressure of this ordinary, scar-covered hand, the breeze, the air, the dust, the earth, the stones, the ground... even space itself was being compressed, compressed, and compressed further.
It was as if a large pile of messy clothes was being forcibly crushed into a standard block to be stuffed into a tiny suitcase.
There were no complex techniques; this was merely the ultimate suppression of raw power.
Compared to the avatar Muen had faced, the pressure exerted by the Indra King’s true body now was not just like a mountain—it was as if the weight of the entire world was concentrated upon that single palm in that instant.
"You bastards! If you two keep watching the show, I'm going to be flattened into a meat patty!"
Adolf was actually crushed directly by this palm strike.
However, yet another Adolf appeared in a different building. This time, he looked a bit disheveled; his form-fitting suit was quite messy. Seeing the Indra King’s haunting gaze sweep over him again, he held down his hat and, without a word, scurried away with quick, frantic steps.
Though he was also a Crowned, as a "friend of the ladies," he was completely unsuited to dealing with such a pure brute.
A truly refined person remains elegant even while fighting.
As he fled, Adolf flicked out a playing card.
The King of Hearts floated up, and the king depicted on it suddenly seemed to come to life. He transformed into a hundred-meter-tall giant of peerless might, raising a pixelated sword that looked like stacked diamonds, and roared as he slashed at the Indra King.
Then, he was slapped to death by the Indra King.
"..." Adolf ran even faster.
But after that one strike, the Indra King lowered his eyes to look at his palm.
A streak of crimson blood flowed down from the spot where that sword had struck, tracing the deep lines of his palm.
Among the countless old scars, this new wound was strikingly clear and piercing.
He is a Crowned, after all...
At the same time.
The mana in this area, which had been extremely quiet until now, suddenly became restless.
The Indra King looked up. The brilliance bursting from the darkness was now reflected on his somewhat grim face.
"Alright, stop shouting."
Standing at the end of the street, Professor Prang lightly tapped his cane, soothing the still-cursing Adolf.
"I'm getting it ready."
An ethereal chanting rose, its cadences resonating with heaven and earth.
Countless complex magic circuits were constructed layer by layer behind Professor Prang, unfolding like a magnificent palace. Innumerable spells were linked together, their precise patterns flowing like interlocking gears, driving the chariot named Destruction forward with a roar.
What Professor Prang was performing was the most fundamental Combined Matrix Magic.
This was a spell detailed in the Magic Academy's textbooks; anyone could use it if they studied diligently.
The only problem was that a "Combined Matrix"... was a specialized military spell. For a scale this large, it would normally require at least a hundred mages working together to cast.
Yet Professor Prang alone was chanting a spell meant for a hundred people.
The Indra King’s gaze sharpened, sensing the terror of this strike. Even if a Crowned could suppress a mage of the same rank, they couldn't let a Truth-Tier mage cast freely. Thus, he gave Professor Prang no chance to continue charging. He clenched his extended palm into a fist and punched toward Prang from a distance.
The entire block was instantly torn apart, as if ravaged by a giant beast.
A bottomless trench, looking like it had been plowed by an invisible giant claw, rushed toward Professor Prang in the blink of an eye.
"God said, this place shall be a pure land."
Amidst the dust and debris frozen in time, Professor Prang didn't move an inch, continuing his low-voiced chant.
In front of him, a holy light descended from the heavens, painting a picture of a Sanctuary.
Birds sang, flowers bloomed, all living things thrived; golden milk and honey flowed, and naked men and women sat smiling, all troubles vanishing into nothingness.
The scars on the earth were instantly smoothed over as if nothing had ever happened. The Indra King’s fist intent was transformed into a harmless wisp of breeze within this world.
"God said, the sinner shall go to hell."
Archbishop Canterbury’s white robes fluttered as he issued another divine decree.
A phantom of hell rose; mountains of bones and weapons piled high, and a sea of crimson blood converged. Wailing people drifted in the sea of blood. The Indra King found himself submerged in that sea, bound by the chains that once imprisoned dragons, as raging Karmic Fire burned, seeking to incinerate him along with all his sins.
The Indra King’s body shook violently as he broke free from the chains. He struck out with his palm like a blade, parting the sea of blood.
"God said, the irreverent shall bow!"
Archbishop Canterbury’s tone became increasingly solemn and high-pitched. Under his proclamation, holy brilliance shone in all directions. A phantom of the Goddess approached from the infinite distance. Any who held irreverence in their hearts must bow!
The Indra King’s body gradually bent, as if he were about to worship beneath this holy light. But as the roar of collapsing mountains echoed from his every joint, he slowly straightened his back, facing the majesty of the deity head-on.
"Only the one in charge knows how expensive the overhead is. If we keep consuming Holy Light like this, we’re going to be in the red."
Canterbury touched his Authority Ring with a pained expression, looking toward Professor Prang beside him.
"So, are you finished yet?"