Chapter 1385 - 80: Celestial Kingdom’s Ladder_3

The Secret Sword gleamed with a flowing silver-white, as its sharp Tail Blade suddenly swung up, slicing off most of the Flame Holder’s Iron Feather, then pierced sidewise into the waist and abdomen, and emerged from the other side.

The Armor of Original Sin struggled a few times, then stopped, as the backup fuel seemed exhausted; the flames flickered a few times, ultimately extinguishing completely.

The Flame Holder, having lost propulsion in the air, was seized by Him. With a tight grip, sharp claws dug deeply into the armor, almost twisting the Flame Holder apart.

Wielding six wings, He dragged the Flame Holder high up, then released, letting it fall.

The Flame Holder still tried to resist, but faced with a being that kept mutating and extending, the Armor of Original Sin was ultimately no match for Him.

Falling, it crashed onto Dunling Tower, then slid off its edge, followed by a swift impale from the rushing Him, nailed down on the way down the tower, shattering countless steel and bricks, amidst flames and pooling water, landing amongst the street ruins.

The monsters’ slaughter seemed truly over with one’s fall.

As the dust settled, washed away by the heavy rain, the Flame Holder lay like a giant’s corpse among the ruins, soon after, He descended slowly, arriving by the corpse.

He won, but it was not an easy victory.

His grotesque and terrifying body was also covered in various scars; among the six wings, several were already broken, some sliced off, leaving only the wriggling flesh at the stumps.

The bones on His torso were the same, with a hollowed chest bearing the wound left by the Great Sword, inside of which still burned stubbornly some flickering flames.

But the most lethal was still the deep-seated pain in His mind, the devouring from the Anti-Meme, and the struggle with the Flame Holder preventing any mental recovery; though His flesh was robust, His consciousness was constantly on the verge of shattering.

The Tail Blade swung up, slicing open the Flame Holder’s chest, just as He had expected, beneath the shell was empty—Lorenzo was using the Gap, manipulating the Flame Holder to fight Him.

Mere mortals ultimately lack the courage to face Him.

He mocked, but His gaze was suddenly drawn by a splotch of crimson, the Tail Blade slowly lifted, with its sharp edge carrying remnants of crimson blood—He was unsure if it was His own, or...

Taking a few steps forward, standing on the remains of steel, He looked inside the cut, where protruding damaged metal abounded, the frame twisted under intense combat, with blood overflowing within.

This... this might be the blood of the Armor of Original Sin, given that this armor was a mix of Demon flesh and steel, He thought—but soon, the almost tearing pain of consciousness shattered all His assumptions.

The swift Nail Sword first severed His remaining wing, depriving Him of high-speed mobility, then pierced from behind, going through the heart, protruding from the chest.

"Lorenzo...Holmes!"

Faces flashed back, as He roared furiously, used His claws to uncover Lorenzo, tossing him to the other side of the ruins.

Massive amounts of blood poured from the wounds, the flesh wriggling, trying to heal the shell—but the nail sword carried strong venom that poisoned all regenerative forces, breaking through flesh’s constraints, poisoning His consciousness.

"This really was a gamble, right?"

Lorenzo staggered to stand, one hand supporting the Nail Sword, the other clutching his belly.

The Secret Sword that pierced the Flame Holder also injured Lorenzo hidden inside, just a slight shift, and it could’ve pierced his spine as well.

Both creatures, scarred and wounded, being washed by the rain cleaning off the blood, amidst lightning and thunder.

The arm holding the Nail Sword trembled slightly, on the pallid, bloodied arm, innumerable patterns slowly cracked, blood oozed from the broken skin, but soon, as if drained of blood, only crimson remained.

"Actually, I didn’t think I could win either, it’s still too reliant on luck, and moreover, my luck has always been rather poor."

Lorenzo staggered towards Him, He tried to struggle, but the final sword seemed to explode all previous wounds, one after another, wounds that should have healed tore open, excessive blood flowing, dyeing the water beneath red.

He emitted low growls, beyond the physical pain, His consciousness was nearing fragmentation, those scars cut into consciousness began to stir, almost tearing Him apart.

"But, like self-hypnosis, everyone believed I could win, so I had to win to show them."

Countless faces flickered in Lorenzo’s mind and on His face, then finally shattered; heavily damaged, He could no longer maintain this disguise, exposing a chaotic, unordered true visage.

On a pale face, countless eyes continuously opened and closed, He wobbled reaching out with claws towards Lorenzo, trying to kill him whereas Lorenzo also quickened his pace, then broke into a run.

He shouted loudly, as if to pour out all hatred and rage.

He held up the Nail Sword, the move unconcealed, at this moment he had no reserve to conceal, merely lifting the sword and slashing.

Crimson eyes opening fully, reflecting Lorenzo’s sword-wielding figure, simultaneously, a slender tail swung the Secret Sword, aiming at Lorenzo’s head.

"Blood vengeance!"

The two blades passed each other without overlap, each intent on killing the other, such murderous desire was so fierce, neither wanted to block or dodge, leaving everything to the blades in hand.

"Blood debt!"

The Nail Sword carried vast decay force, any hit was to slay Him utterly, while the Secret Sword also emitted roar, nearly touching Lorenzo’s neck. But the next moment the Secret Sword halted in the air, unable to slash down, in a flash, another pair of hands was seen grasping the Secret Sword; she hidden in deep darkness just then revealed herself.

In a daze, Lorenzo seemed to see Watson smiling at him, he exhaled heavily, using all his strength to send forth the Nail Sword.

"Blood reparation!"

The Nail Sword beheaded, pierced heart, Lorenzo completed this last strike for Ed.

Just like finishing the final execution, the scars engraved in soul exploded, His figure frozen in place, followed by torrents of blood from countless wounds spurting out.

Crimson liquid escaped the shell; along with it also fled thousands of Angels, flapping wings, struggle emerged from the dark cage, returning to freedom.

Lorenzo loosened the shattered Nail Sword, the sword-holding arm dropped weakly, he raised his head, watched the Angels depart, then a section of the thundercloud-covered sky collapsed, with golden light descending—it seemed like the staircase leading to the Celestial Kingdom.