Chapter 1500 - 956: Uninvited Guest (Part 2)

Chapter 1500: Chapter 956: Uninvited Guest (Part 2)

Its opponent was a deity from the Order Faction, with a form akin to an ancient frost giant bear that towered to the heavens.

The divine body presented a majestic blue-white hue, as if cast from eternal Profound Ice and pure Thunderbolt, with mysterious Order divine patterns flowing across its surface.

Vast Divine Power surged around it, forming blinding electrical arcs capable of tearing through space.

The bear god clearly held a crushing power advantage, roaring with each heavy paw strike that carried a cold current to freeze all things and a giant force to shatter stars, tearing at the Evil God’s Bone Armor and smashing the Giant Sword containing destructive Magic Energy to spark showers.

Every frenzied rip caused the Evil God’s massive body to tremble violently, forcing it to temporarily avoid the brunt.

The pure power clashes between both sides shook the heavens and the earth, with each exchange of fists and claws, sword and palm, unleashing shockwaves capable of ripping space apart.

The already shattered and dilapidated ground below further crumbled and melted, leaving immense, bottomless craters like terrifying imprints hammered into the earth by a Giant Hammer wielded by a god.

As Kana was drawn to the grand and tragic sight of the first layer of the Abyss Blood Battle Battlefield, his gaze swept past the slaughter on the mortal battlefield and focused on the aftermath of deity conflict in higher dimensions.

A completely different, viscous and malevolent gaze, coiled around his divine perception like a cold, venomous snake.

This was not the frenzied chaotic will of the battlefield, but precise, focused, and openly exploratory with a certain unpleasant "interest," unmistakably targeting him.

For a god to sense such clear "observation," the onlooker was undoubtedly an existence of the same Level.

The Abyssal Chaos within that gaze made Kana immediately ascertain its source — another Abyss Evil God lurking on the battlefield’s shadowy periphery.

Beside him, the white misty divine form of the Judgment Fog slightly fluctuated, clearly also catching this uninvited guest’s prying.

As a veteran deity of the first layer of the Abyss Blood Battle Battlefield, it almost instantly locked onto the newcomer’s identity.

"Surkred..." the voice of the Judgment Fog deepened with a hint of caution, "Monarch of Shadows, Whisperer of Darkness."

As if to confirm the whispers of the Judgment Fog, at the edge of the cliff where they stood, thick shadows stirred and gathered like a living entity, roused by the Firelight and energy turbulence from the battlefield below.

There was no ripple of teleportation nor any tearing of space; the shadow simply "coalesced" into a form with a commanding presence, as if it rightfully belonged there.

It was a slender figure.

At first glance, its silhouette even bore a touch of elven elegance and refinement.

It wore an extremely well-tailored outfit of red and black nobility attire, the dark red background resembling dried blood, adorned with night-deep black patterns, with the fabric emitting an ominous sheen under the Abyss’s sullied light.

Yet this surface elegance was wholly warped by its inhuman characteristics.

Four slightly backward-curved black demonic horns crowned its head, heralding its Abyssal essence.

The hands extending from its sleeves were covered in dark scales, with fingertips forming sharp, gleaming claws.

The exposed neck and parts of the cheeks were traced with lava-like orange-red patterns, as if Hell’s Fire coursed beneath the skin.

Most striking was the billowing, shifting misty mass composed entirely of Shadow, hovering quietly behind it, like a living cloak or some symbiotic creature, exuding an unsettling aura of consumption.

At its waist, an elegantly styled single-handed Longsword that emitted icy cold was sheathed, its right hand casually resting on the hilt, displaying a deadly elegance despite the relaxed posture.

If not for those horns, claws, and the sinister patterns on its skin, with just its figure and attire, it could seamlessly blend into any upper-realm elf noble society.

Its malevolence was not raw brutality, but rather a bone-deep, twisted, noble depravity, more seductive and far more perilous.

"Lord Judgment Fog, it has been a long time. Your brilliance remains so... unforgettable."

Surkred spoke, his voice smooth and calm, even tinged with a touch of aristocratic languor.

He nodded slightly in the direction of the Judgment Fog, executing the gesture impeccably, as if engaging in a high-society small talk.

Yet, every syllable of that voice seemed alive, with a bizarre adhesiveness, as if it lodged in the ear and tenaciously attempted to penetrate to deeper spiritual levels.

Like murmured whispers echoing within the skull, compelling one to listen, to ponder, to indulge.

This is by no means politeness, but a continuous and extremely subtle erosion of the spirit.

Is this the embodiment of the whispers among the gods of the other side?

The voice is like an enchanting sound of fall, exceedingly piercing.

Moreover, it’s infused with the meaning of abyssal chaos.

Such a first meeting, Kana already had a first impression of this student before him.

A god who engages in conspiracy and leads others into corruption.

And such an image is nearly on point.

After finishing what seemed like a proper etiquette, Clark’s molten gold-like vertical pupils slowly turned towards Kana.

That gaze carried an undisguised curiosity and scrutiny, as if examining a rare treasure or rather, a highly challenging prey.

His lips curved into an appropriately sized arc, that smile was both elegant and profound.

"Then, surely you must be the ’Savior’ who ignited the Fire of Hope by establishing an immortal fortress on the 1121st layer Blood Battle Battlefield?"

Clark’s tone carried a hint of playfulness, Kana’s name seemed quite famous, even he hadn’t anticipated.

"Kana... truly a name like a thunderbolt. To stir such an impressive ripple in our... well, in your words, ’stagnant water’ of a battlefield, truly remarkable."

His words affirmed Kana’s achievements, yet carried an air of high-ground judgment, as if critiquing a fascinating toy.

Kana’s name quietly spread on the abyss blood battle battlefield, not because he disrupted the balance of a certain war zone.

Demons do not truly care about the gains and losses of local fortresses, the chaotic nature of the abyss determines the eternal flow of the battle lines.

What truly intrigued beings like Clark was the symbolic meaning and potential value contained within the title "Savior."

A presence favored by the world’s will, bearing a grand mission, its soul’s brilliance and post-fall darkness would be the most coveted delicacy for the abyss.

"Another ’Savior’..."

Clark sighed softly, his voice infused with a complex emotion of lament and anticipation intertwined, almost like a chant.

"What a fascinating title, carrying the world’s expectations and the glimmer of light in despair. I hope you, dear Lord Kana, will create more awe-inspiring feats than your... less fortunate predecessors.

"I, and the will of the abyss, hold great expectations for this."

His words seemed like a blessing, yet also a curse.

His gaze lingered on Kana, those molten gold vertical pupils seemingly able to pierce through appearances, straight into the core of divinity, trying to find the cracks under the "Savior" aura.

"What a pity."

Clark gracefully spread his hand covered in fine scales, "Currently burdened with important duties, unable to have a... deep and candid conversation with you, this nascent star.

"The will of the abyss is always so urgent. But please believe, I hold great interest in you. We... will surely meet again.

"By then, I hope to have the opportunity to ’discuss’ about order, chaos, redemption, and that alluring, path of corruption."

Once the words were spoken, without even leaving Kana or the Mist of Judgment any chance to respond, Clark’s figure began to "dissolve."

He did not vanish, but like ink dripping into water, or as if erased by an invisible rubber, the whole figure swiftly faded, merging into the surrounding rolling shadows.

That piece of shadow then calmed, as if no presence had ever descended.

The entire process was silent and unbelievably swift, leaving behind only a faint trace of mixed sulfur and stale perfume smell of evil, and the lingering feeling of being spied upon left by those molten gold vertical pupils.

Until that piece of shadow completely settled down, the white mist enveloping Kana by the Mist of Judgment seemed to slightly relax its tension.