Overgeared Chapter 1592:
Chapter 1592
Clack, clack clack clack!
The Overgeared Skeletons moved their jaws without words as they lost their bodies and scattered. They seemed to be apologizing for not being able to help.
“......”
Until all the available number of times that Divinity was consumed, Grid fought back using all his abilities.
His items and titles, the Overgeared God's Sword Dance, the Undefeated King’s swordsmanship, powers and the mental world, the evil eye, blood magic, Mountain King Grenier’s skills, Lee Jeong’s hand-to-hand combat, the rune’s powers, and the duke titles.
Even the Spear Shot and Continuous Stab gained from the Behen Archipelago a very long time ago were stuck in cooldown. He also forced Noe into the battle despite Noe being intimidated by dragons and being unable to perform well.
He left no regrets. This was good enough. He fought well enough. The reason he lost was because Cranbel was stronger than him.
Grid, who had been trying to calm down, soon blamed himself.
[Get on.]
He looked at the back of someone who postponed the expected end of the battle.
The wounded dragon—it wouldn’t be strange if he collapsed right away, but he extended his neck to Grid. The remaining parts of the two wings came together. The blood scattered from the huge body that barely withstood the magic saturation looked sublime.
‘Not yet... it isn’t over yet.’
There remained a dragon who believed in him and wanted to be with him. The dragon risked his life to give Grid another chance. How could Grid turn away?
Grid’s expression became calm as he climbed onto Xenon’s neck and faced the bombardment of hundreds of magics. The effect of King of the Mountain, which had been active since the beginning, was still maintained. It was proof that Cranbel didn’t give Grid a chance to recover his health. It was hope, not despair.
Clink.
A new weapon was held in Grid’s one remaining arm. A sword that could drop the moon—the sword that shone a cold blue exerted power proportional to Grid’s stats and the level of the target.
It was a strength and a weakness. The Falling Moon Sword could cut Cranbel, but not kill him. Assuming that Grid’s stats when riding on Xenon were three times the normal values and Cranbel’s level was 999, the damage value would be in the billions. It was impossible to inflict a critical injury on Cranbel, whose health was estimated to be in the hundreds of billions or perhaps the trillions.
However, Grid knew a dragon’s weakness. The horn—the organ that rose from Cranbel’s forehead, which Grid had persistently sought from the beginning, was a source of strength and authority. Ifrit had told him.
‘This is my last chance. I will definitely cut it this time.’
Cranbel would’ve never doubted victory from the start. Even so, he never let down his guard for a moment. It wasn’t known if he was seeking perfection or if he acknowledged Grid’s skills as he claimed. No matter what, he was like a dog from Grid’s point of view. A strong being should enjoy it as much as they were strong. Meanwhile, Cranbel wasn’t flexible at all so he felt like a wall.
‘If it was Baal, he would’ve cut off his horn on purpose to fight.’
He never expected that he would miss Baal. Grid smiled because it was so absurd and took a deep breath.
He guided Xenon to the point where a large sandstorm occurred. Xenon had lost his wings, so he was slower than the other dragons Grid boarded. He consumed a significant amount of magic for flight and evasion, so he couldn’t properly intercept Cranbel’s magic bombardment. As he approached the storm, more scales were torn and the skin peeled off.
Even so, Xenon’s movements showed no hesitation. A chain of magic protruded from the storm and tied his limbs together, but he bit it with his teeth and cut it off. At this time, he winced at the magical mace that flew at his cocked head.
Xenon moved in the direction that Grid wanted. He was the one who destroyed Reidan. He felt a sense of debt toward Grid, who was angered when he saw that the city had disappeared.
...No, maybe it was all an excuse. To be honest, Xenon struggled to understand his current feelings. He watched Grid cut at Cranbel’s scales again and again and only had a desire to fight together.
“......”
Grid was focused. He endured the magical baptism that was like a meteor with 1.5 seconds of immortality remaining and glimpsed beyond all the magic. The artificial senses created by the God Hands conveyed Xenon’s position to him in real time.
His single arm suffered from a series of strong wind pressure and explosions, and let out low noises. The creepy sensation of crushing bones and breaking muscles caused a chill to go down Grid’s spine. Grid didn’t turn a blind eye to this feeling. To be exact, he couldn’t turn away from it.
He focused on the sensation of his fingers holding the Falling Moon Sword. He approached the image of connecting the Falling Moon Sword to his nerves. He dissected and used the structure of the Falling Moon Sword. He became one with the sword.
The remaining time of immortality was 1.2 seconds.
The trajectory of the Falling Moon Sword moved finely. He grasped Cranbel’s position beyond the magic that obscured his view with his artificial senses and recalled Cranbel’s habits that were identified during the battle. Grid measured the space he needed to cut. The angle of the Falling Moon Sword was adjusted in real time.
Just then, Xenon collided with a rising barrier. Xenon’s body shook significantly, but Grid’s posture wasn’t disturbed in the slightest. He made himself immovable by activating White Tiger’s Posture. Then thunder was heard above his head. Grid intuitively sensed it. The moment his immortality ended, he would naturally be swept away by the thunderbolt above his head.
Cranbel was well aware of the existence of a god. He knew that a god’s death would be suspended for up to 10 seconds and timed the manifestation of magic. The remaining time of immortality was 0.5 seconds. This was the moment when the ferocious thunderbolts started to color the world white.
‘Now...’
Grid’s one arm became blurry as he removed the White Tiger’s Posture. At the same time, a flash of blue sword light cut through all the magic ahead, the desert, and Cranbel.
200,000 Army Crushing Sword—the swordsmanship that Grid didn’t have an opportunity to use during the battle because he actively utilized Revolve throughout the battle became his final trump card.
[......!]
Xenon’s body trembled. It was the aftermath of witnessing Cranbel’s astonished expression at the end of the world that was split in half. There was blood gushing from Cranbel’s head.
[Ohhhh...!]
Xenon twisted his body sharply. It was to be struck by the thunderbolt instead of Grid, who had lost the immortality. He was going to die soon anyway. Xenon wanted to give meaning to his own death. In many ways, the end that came from protecting the life of a great **** would be more special than the ordinary end of being captured and devoured by his kin. Yes, a great god.
‘...Is this envy?’
Xenon belatedly realized his feelings as he was swept away by the thunderbolt and glowed. The scales that had lost their durability from the beginning became ashes and scattered.
The three dragons that had fallen toward the desert had crashed underground since the time of their defeat. After them, Grid fell side by side with Cranbel, but his gaze stayed on Xenon.
‘The sacrifice for the weak...’
Grid, who felt repeated disappointments every time he encountered a transcendent being, felt a rare thrill at this moment.
Ifrit, Xenon, Basque, etcetera—the dragons served as an opportunity to break the many prejudices that Grid harbored against transcendents. Just like the strong reaching out to the weak, didn’t Xenon help Grid, someone who he didn’t even know? He deserved to be called a character that was proportional to his strength. Grid was fascinated by this noble spirit and he felt a sense of respect.
To be honest, he thought Cranbel was cool too. There was a certain dignity in his declaration that he would fulfill the covenant independently of the liking he felt toward Grid. He even questioned if he would’ve been able to suppress this killing intent if Cranbel hadn’t destroyed Reidan.
Just before crashing into the end of the underground area, the God Hands that followed Grid supported him. Grid avoided the crash thanks to this and remained wary of his surroundings without any time to feel relieved.
Basque and the dragons were confronting Cranbel. Cranbel had lost half his head by twisting it just before his horn was cut, but he was nevertheless still aloof. He looked down at his enemies with one eye while keeping his neck upright and it looked like a scene from a myth a long time ago.
It happened the moment that Grid was gulping...
“Y-Your Majeeeeesty!!!”
“......?”
A group of people rushed forward. They came from the old castle behind Cranbel. At first, there were around a few dozens, but in an instant, it became hundreds and thousands. He could see familiar faces in the front. They were the alchemists of Reidan, the objects of love and hatred for Grid.
“We have defended this to the end...!” A substance that didn’t match Satisfy’s worldview. The alchemists proudly displayed the unidentified plate that was as transparent as plastic, but Grid just hurriedly shouted at them.
"Stop! Step back!”
Were they crazy as a group? How many dragons were here? What spirit were they rushing over with?
Grid, who had no time to feel happy when he saw the survivors, soon realized that these people had something to believe in. The survivors of Reidan were stamped with red blood like a seal. It was the blood of others, not the blood they shed. Grid recalled the owner of the castle behind Cranbel and grasped the situation.
‘Don’t tell me that Marie Rose...?’
Did she save the people of Reidan when she was so indifferent to her bloodkin and couldn’t feel any humanity? As Grid was feeling flustered, a stream of blood surged from right next to Grid and split in half. Long hair that was intertwined with an abyss-lke darkness tickled Grid’s cheek before gradually subsiding.
“So.” A beautiful voice emerged from the red lips that contrasted with the white skin. The people of Reidan, who had been crying toward Grid, were instantly seduced and fell silent. Only her voice echoed in the underground area where silence fell. “Who ate my dear husband’s arm?”
The one that Beriache, one of the three original evils, gave birth to by giving up her life—Marie Rose’s red eyes shone clearly in the darkness. There was no ennui in her eyes as she glanced at the wounded dragons in turn.
Blood King—it was none other than Grid who clearly imprinted her on the world.
[......]
The dragons at the scene held their breath. They resembled mortals hoping that a typhoon would pass by quickly. It was an unrealistic sight created by the most sinister and beautiful being in the world.
Just then, Xenon fell belatedly and broke the silence of the area.
Cranbel was the first to react.
[I am the one who harmed the Overgeared God.]
Cranbel told the truth. He spoke proudly without any intention of defending the other dragons or avoiding responsibility. He was truly like a noble dragon. It was clear that the reason why the tower members were wary and fearful of dragons was due to the misguided prejudices planted by some crazy dragons such as the insane dragon, the evil dragon, the gourmet dragon, and the fire dragon.
‘Hayate said that all dragons are crazy... I don’t see it that way at all.’
Grid thought this as he looked at the survivors and the hostility he felt toward Cranbel was broken.
Then blood filled Grid’s field of view. Marie Rose flew from far away and pulled out Cranbel’s entire left limb, causing blood to soar.