NOVGO.NET Chapter 781 Three For One
Chapter 781: 781 Three For One
“Do not worry about me.”
Aurex’s smooth blond hair was clenched in Orson’s fist, yet he laughed madly at Taran. “Three for one, we win.”
“You son of a bitch.”
Orson’s face went dark as night. He did not exactly hate Aurex, and it was Taran who led the descent of the gods, but this idiot was hellbent on throwing his life away.
“My brother,” Taran murmured, murder boiling in his eyes.
He had inherited a high god-seed. If his plan held, he would rise above the Pantheon Sanctum and seize a shot at ruling the galaxy.
Earth was merely the beginning.
But Godslayer kept standing in his way, blocking his grand design again and again. His patience was gone.
Aurex knew it well. If Godslayer lost these three in front of him, it would be like severing Orson’s arms.
One Aurex for three. Not a loss at all.
“Do not hesitate. Kill them,” Aurex howled, handsome face twisted like a hound from hell.
“The ancient hall of heroes will welcome your return,” Taran whispered. His eyes flashed. Thunder exploded. White arcs burst from him in all directions.
“Your god-seed inheritance progress is reduced by 15 percent.”
“You temporarily gain part of the Thunder God Thor’s power and skills.”
Taran’s heart sank. This would push him past his limits and cost him dearly, but to break the mortal god’s arms, any price was worth paying.
Shing shing shing.
A storm of lightning blades rained down. Madman and the others went rigid. They could not move, could not escape the lightning zone.
“Ultra forbidden war art, Wrath of the Thunder God.”
Every hair on Taran stood on end. A towering phantom loomed behind him, golden hair and white beard, a giant with an axe raised to the heavens.
“Cecil.”
“Old thief.”
The three glanced at each other and summoned their beasts to force an escape.
Roar.
Even the near god-tier dragon was crushed to the ground the instant it tore the void, scales bursting and flesh flying under ten thousand lightning blades.
Paralysis.
Pierce.
Percent HP suppression.
Thunder God Domain, Death Bind.
Gasps broke out. Before the art even truly struck, man and beast both had their max HP cut by half.
This war art ignored physical resistances, froze all enemies in the zone, and against targets below Lower God dealt true execution damage equal to ten times the caster’s max HP.
A certain kill.
“You are the one who dies.”
Orson’s gaze hardened. Rage flooded him from head to toe.
Without a breath of hesitation, the Chaos Blade flashed. A white line appeared from Aurex’s crown to his waist.
The line widened. With a wet crack, blood fountained. The bisected body had not even fallen before chaos fire devoured it to ash.
Sword Soul Guild’s number two, erased.
“Chaos Fusion, Divine Phantasm Curse.”
Orson switched to the war staff. Elemental force roared in from every side.
“Not one of you dies on me.”
The brothers’ ploy enraged him beyond reason. To save his three, he would scour Earth’s god-realm if he had to.
A colossal hexagram lit the sky. Even the gods’ avatars watching from afar felt a chill.
Chaos magic condensed, streams of light gorgeous to behold yet loaded with killing intent.
The divine curse thrummed and crashed straight into the SSS rank war art, Wrath of the Thunder God.
Boom.
A mushroom cloud billowed upward. The shockwave flattened swaths of otherworld trialists.
Instant kill.
Instant kill.
Instant kill.
Rank and HP meant nothing. Touch the divine force and you ceased to be.
Conditional invincibility.
Conditional invincibility.
“Your god-seed tier is lower than the target. You cannot deal effective damage while Wrath of the Thunder God persists.”
“Your god-seed tier…”
Orson’s breath hitched as piercing prompts hammered his ears.
“Impossible.”
His face changed. He could not believe it. The instant his curse struck the white lightning, it unraveled by itself, as if it had never existed.
“We are done,” Madman said with a crooked smile, glancing at Bradley and Breeze.
Overhead, the thunder god phantom glared down, one with Taran, the axe already falling.
“This is a piss of a way to die. Not even the boss can pull us out. Looks like this is it,” Breeze said evenly. He looked back at Orson, who stood stunned in despair, and called out, “Do not fold. Godslayer does not die.”
“Godslayer does not die.”
The words hit Orson like a bolt. Drunken Dream, ShatteredCrown, and the others around him went red-eyed.
They clenched their fists, desperate to act, yet if even Orson’s strongest strike could not budge the war art, what could they do.
Guild channel:
“Goodbye, girls. I wish I could smell you again,” Madman laughed.
“Please, vice president, do not give up. There must be a way.”
“VP, I should not have refused you. If you live, I will do anything for you.”
“Live, you coward, you cursed creep.”
The girls who usually threatened to string Madman up and beat him were crying openly. Mocking him had become a daily ritual. If he was truly gone, their hearts broke.
“Damn you, Bradley. I told you. I, Madman, look and personality both number one,” Madman said proudly, still finding time to brag.
“Fine. I admit that. So live,” Bradley said softly, eyes locked on the thunder phantom.
Madman and Breeze blinked.
Bradley let out a roar that split the air. Cecil became armor once more. Lightning resilience peaked. White arcs snapped at his legs as he took a step.
“How are you moving,” Madman gasped, watching Bradley’s HP plummet. One life was gone in a blink.
“Just barely,” Bradley coughed blood and smiled, then grabbed both men by the waist and bellowed, “Live, brothers.”
“Bradley.”
Orson’s face tightened as, before everyone’s eyes, Madman and Breeze were hurled free of the Wrath of the Thunder God.
“Kill them,” Taran snarled, turning the gods’ avatars loose.
“Will you still sit and watch,” Hobilarze snapped, hurling a forbidden art at the two.
The other divine wills traded looks. A rain of magic and war arts streaked toward them like auroras.
“At any cost, hold the line.”
Drunken Dream raised his halberd and roared. The dragon knight legion surged skyward, bodies forming a wall of life in front of the pair.
Every Godslayer melee soared up, shields locking edge to edge like a great wall blazing across the sky.
“I swear, I swear, I will not spare a single one of you.”
A giant chaos shield anchored the front, wielded by Orson in dragon rider form.
A tidal wave of destruction hammered Forever City. Half the city became smoking ruin.
On the ground, Bradley faced the thunder gods past and present. His body was a map of wounds, yet his silver hair still burned like starlight.
“Norse thunder god? Then I am your ancestor,” Bradley laughed, and Cecil spoke in dragon tongue, “To the last breath.”
He pushed into the storm, every step under crushing weight. Armor dented, flesh tore and regrew.
He staggered, yet every step was a choice.
He believed that even if he fell, there would be endless Godslayer warriors behind him, charging under Brother Fan’s banner into the galaxy.
“You are a worthy foe, but you should die,” Taran said, solemn and calm. He gripped the white lightning axe with both hands. His brother’s death had stripped away all restraint.
Slash.
Blood geysered. Bradley was cut in half.
A breath later, flesh surged. He stood again.
Cut.
Thunder’s fury did not wane. At one hundred meters he was a corpse again.
Rise.
At eighty meters, he died again.
Rise.
At less than fifty meters, Bradley stood once more from between life and death. The strongest single combatant of Godslayer shone with divine light, an unbreakable monument rooted in this soil.
“Open your ears, hear it, this is the horn of mankind,” Bradley laughed wildly. His elemental blade rose high, sang a sorrowful note, and hewed toward Taran.