I Have a Dice Left by a God-Chapter 377 - 244: Mask Maker

In the midst of the mountain-shouting, sea-roaring cheers, Simmons and Holman made their entrance. Under the blessing of such formidable human desires, both felt a strong response in their bodies. Participating in such a battle was an elevation in itself, and if victorious, they could absorb a great portion of human desire, propelling their path as knights. Without a doubt, one of them would emerge as a battle angel.

Becoming an angel means shedding the mortal coil, breaking free from worldly shackles, and becoming a true powerhouse.

The young pair’s gaze was unwaveringly determined; victory was their longing.

Simmons withdrew the greatsword and summoned the Shield of Knightly Glory, while Holman presented his Great Duel Gun, a top-tier Divine Relic passed down through generations with no deviation, keeping the family’s descendants ahead of others.

Faced with Holman, Simmons knew that despite his rapid progress lately, his chances were at most thirty percent. He had to play defensively, waiting for an opportunity. If he attacked heedlessly, even a ten percent chance would diminish. Holman was a true knight, tempered and refined, offense and defense as one; a seasoned frontline warrior, not a mere academic. The Tia Clan’s training for heirs is both rigorous and cruel; their understanding of hidden power is unparalleled. Imagining the transformative Holman, fear emerges.

As cheers erupted, the two saluted, Holman spun his lance, his gaze towards Simmons full of anticipation. In this generation, he had no rivals. The grinding process to refine power is excruciatingly torturous, the subtle endurance fueling the expectation for a strong opponent.

Accompanied by the shockingly thunderous explosion, a violent surge of Spiritual Ability erupted from Holman’s physique, expanding outward unchecked. This was a Spiritual Ability of a completely different level from all before, its terrifying power oppressing the entire arena, making Holman appear like a giant.

Holman’s supporters in the crowd were in a frenzy; this was the knight king in their hearts, an existence overwhelming everyone.

Undeniably, opening the Three Lives and reaching a mastery level was a power not previously shown. Yet without reaching this realm, one couldn’t even stand before Holman, let alone engage.

Simmons smiled bitterly, then felt relieved. It was as it should be. Feeling the grandeur of his opponent, he no longer restrained himself; he allowed his Spiritual Ability to fully blossom. Though the opening of the Three Lives was brief, crossing this threshold ensured sufficient elevation in Spiritual Ability. That’s the foundation for standing here; yes, months ago, he didn’t anticipate making it to the finals, but now he stood on the final battleground against Moncalleta’s strongest young knight. Simmons was filled with grand ambition.

As the two Spiritual Abilities met, both initiated simultaneously, their energies surged, bombarding the entire arena. After opening the Three Lives, knight combat techniques came with powerful Spiritual Ability adjuncts, completely unmanageable without mastering this level. Holman’s duel gun was fiercely majestic, wielded with large arcs, while Simmons’ sword and shield formed an impenetrable defense.

Understanding Simmons’ strategy, Holman was eager to see what tricks the other had, sparing no effort physically, his violent duel gun pounding the shield incessantly. Technique-wise, Simmons’ performance was solid, honed from his time at the Secret Castle, so Holman sought to crack him open. His duel gun ignited with a series of runes, spiraling menacingly at Simmons, whose eyes sharpened, meeting Holman’s assault.

Meanwhile outside Hedan’s Royal Palace, stood a delicate and beautiful girl in a flared dress, along with two monks draped in gray robes, one notably tall, even in Hedan standing above the average, inadvertently revealing a face covered in cutting scars and stitching marks.

The three waited quietly for a while until Dalivin appeared sneakily from the corner of the street.

"Gray Mask, meeting you is no easy feat; I thought you might have forgotten you were an Apostle of the Song of Hell," Porcelain Doll said smilingly, sizing up Dalivin.

"You’re teasing, Great Doll. Once an Apostle, always an Apostle. I’m merely a lowly Mask Maker under the Dragon Mother’s command; without her permission, I can’t act freely," Dalivin replied respectfully.

"This is an order from the commander; there’s no way the Dragon Mother would impede. Your group is a bit special, so specific actions are not required of you. Has the creator prepared everything you need?" Porcelain Doll sweetly asked.

"Everything is ready," Dalivin responded, "but my mask only lasts for an hour."

"An hour is enough," Porcelain Doll replied.

The moderately statured gray-robed individual lifted his head, "Greetings, Gray Mask Brother. I’m a new Apostle, ’Doctor of Life’ Isaac, also a creation of the father, and this is my creation, a groundbreaking Artificial Human. Thanks to the great father for bestowing me with power, and I convey my gratitude to the Dragon Mother."

Watching the tall, taciturn amalgamation, Dalivin knew the Artificial Human was successfully created—the materials provided by them. They selected Hedan people condemned to death for this task by the commander’s order; they had to execute it. He and Kan were responsible for investigation and target selection, while David executed actions. Challenging missions like stealing Isaac’s notebook were personally undertaken by Dragon Mother post-transformation, getting slightly injured. Since the culprit was male, there wasn’t a trace during the inn search.

While executing missions, they encountered another Inner Demon harming children, leading to corpse disposal to attract the Funeral Attendant’s attention. Yet the Funeral Attendant proved underwhelming.

All Twelve Singers of the Song of Hell were powerful beings with unique abilities, independent but possessing varying numbers of apostles. Modified by the creator at first, Dalivin was accidentally taken by Dragon Mother, who had special autonomy under the commander’s intervention; the creator had to yield. But facing the creator directly, Dalivin couldn’t resist—no one knew better than a child about the creator’s dread.

When he spoke to you kindly, you best comply.

Dalivin stayed courteous, retrieved the mask drawing pen, and releasing hidden power brought forth a series of life-like runes. Porcelain Doll transformed into the handsome, tall Prince Achilles, Isaac into a sultry, jewel-laden noblewoman, whereas the Artificial Human became a statuesque pregnant woman, tall and silent, while the alluring noblewoman was sycophantically endearing.

"Gray Mask, I haven’t seen you for several years; your drawing skills have greatly improved! Not only are the details rich, but the spirit is captured better than actual skin. Tut-tut, Dragon Mother truly nourishes well with the power of the first epoch. No wonder everyone seeks closeness to her," "Achilles" laughed.

"I wish the lord success, I’ll take my leave first," Dalivin refrained from speaking further, bowing respectfully.

"Go ahead, convey my regards to the Dragon Mother, by the way, I heard she’s entering heat. Will she be irritable? Is it males or females, or a mix she’s using?" Porcelain Doll asked teasingly.

Dalivin smiled wryly, "Lord, please spare me."

"Achilles" chuckled, embracing each side, leading the two voluptuous noblewomen onto a carriage, heading towards the Royal Palace.

Dalivin sighed lightly, swiftly disappearing around the street corner...