Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 755 - The Swordsmen in the Mist

Chapter 755: 755 Chapter The Swordsmen in the Mist

Having realized his own identity, the Earl was no longer that frail, ordinary man. The old butler crouched down, clutching his face, and let out cries of grief.

Shard turned to Priest Augustus:

“I certainly can’t beat him; you said you could handle it.”

The outlander was very self-aware.

“You misunderstand, I didn’t say I could solve the problem of the resurrected, I said I could help you resolve him.”

The priest spoke, taking the lead towards the direction of the door. Shard gathered up his Roder Cards and picked up the longsword that was placed by the wall, following suit:

“Shard, remember, in the world of the living, I’m just an aging, powerless old man.”

He had his back to Shard in the corridor, but the moment the priest turned around, the sudden unfurling of his charred wings truly made the priest resemble an angel descended to the mortal world:

“All I can do is offer you strength.”

The dim sunlight filtered through the fog and cast upon Lat August, who had a very serious expression:

“Shard Suren Hamilton, do you know of angels?”

“Yes, and once even a mortal’s spirit was exalted into an angel before me.”

Shard answered seriously, this was the first time the priest had taken the initiative to share his circumstances.

Priest Augustus was evidently surprised by Shard’s response but quickly readjusted his emotions:

“Do you know of the primeval angel?”

“Yes, the angels of the Ancient God of Death, also known as Death’s Herald.”

Shard continued, and the priest nodded:

“Although it sounds incredible, I possess a part of that primeval angel’s power. Pray to me, Shard, and I will give you a blessing with this power, just as before you ventured into the Dark Realm.”

That is to say, in the world of the living, the priest doesn’t have extraordinary fighting capabilities, but he can provide strength to others:

“What do I need to do?”

“Pray to the Ancient God of Death and the primeval angel.”

The priest spoke, bit his own finger, and with his blood, drew a Holy Emblem in the palm of his left hand. The symbol represented the purest form of death:

“This is the Holy Emblem of the Ancient God.”

Shard nodded, traced the Holy Emblem in front of his chest, and then whispered softly:

“May the primeval death be with me; may the Death Angel bless me.”

The wings behind Priest Augustus fully spread, and with his right hand marked with the bloodied Holy Emblem, he covered the top of Shard’s head:

“May death be with you.”

A chill, one that could genuinely make the soul stiffen, surged into his body from the top of his head. Then, that chill, as if it could extinguish all the flames of the world, quickly merged with the soul. Amidst that strange power, Shard felt as if he had returned to the mudflats before the Land of Death, as if once again he joined the myriad of spirits above the water, looking up at the Silvermoon.

[Outlander, you have sensed the Whisper.]

Shard could almost be certain that the source of Priest Augustus’s “Primeval Angel” power must have come from the level zero Relic incident he encountered in his youth. It was also for the purpose of investigating this event that the priest chose to become a Correspondence Circle Mage of Saint Byrons, instead of a Church Ring Sorcerer.

Ethereal wings fluttered briefly behind Shard, and his body temperature gradually dropped with the influx of that power,

Shard felt the power, different from the all-around enhancement offered by the Witch’s Jewelry, Priest Augustus’s blessing was more conspicuously reflected in the mastery of “death.” As long as one could endure the chill akin to True Death, even an ordinary person could become a Transcendent who manipulates death.

The Red Butterfly flew out from the tip of his finger and came to rest on Shard’s shoulder. The power of this second Red Butterfly was completely absorbed by Shard, and together with the blessing given by the priest, he now had the confidence to win the upcoming duel.

“How does it feel?”

The wings behind the priest disappeared, and he looked quite exhausted.

Shard nodded:

“Don’t worry, I won’t lose.”

Shaking off the grey cloth wrapped around the sword, he held the scabbard in his left hand while slowly drawing the longsword with his right. The bright yellow Rune of [My Heart is Clear, My Sword Cuts Down Demons] radiated light on the blade.

The priest leaning against the wall smiled:

“When I was young, I was even handsomer than you. Go ahead, Shard, I’ll be waiting for your good news.”

Having prepared his Spellcasting Materials and put on the necessary rings, Shard stepped out of the manor into the outdoors, where the courtyard was shrouded in mist, and it was impossible to see the walls of the yard even from the building’s doorway.

It was only when he reached the middle of the yard that he saw Earl Dalark, rapier in hand, standing on the path in front of the gate fence, waiting for Shard.

He looked significantly different from the living now, standing at least 10 inches taller than before, and without a shadow in the fog, the blue veins on the backs of his hands and face incessantly quivered. From his expression, it was evident that he was suppressing his own rage and underlying desires.

Upon seeing Shard wielding a longsword, the Earl, with eyes that had turned completely white, quickly glanced over Shard’s heart and throat. Then, he raised his rapier vertically in front of himself:

“Mr. Watson, then let us begin.”

With his right hand gripping the sword, he moved toward Shard, stepping out with his left leg in a lunging stance, and thrusting forward with his right hand. Shard didn’t dodge or avoid, swinging his sword forward—

Clang~

The rapier was directly parried aside, and in the same moment the Earl retreated, Shard’s diagonally cleaving sword landed at his feet.

Two streaks of light continually flickered within the white fog, those were the Silver Light of the “Night Watchman” and the glimmer of the rapier. The clangs of their collision sounded one after another; relying on the swordsmanship techniques taught by the “Night Watchman,” and the Earl on skills honed over many years, for the time being, neither gained the upper hand with their swordsmanship alone.

“Mr. Watson, have you also practiced swordsmanship?”

“Yes, I trained for three hours in the mountains yesterday.”

Dodging to the side to evade the rapier, then gripping the “Night Watchman” with both hands, he lifted his drooping longsword upwards, parrying away the rapier. As the Earl lost balance, Shard stepped forward and turned to deliver a reverse slash. The silver traces of the sword in the air hadn’t dissipated when the blade had already made a slanted tear across the front chest of the Earl’s black coat.

“If that’s the case, I won’t be polite.”

The Earl’s deep voice said, and after he took a step back, his body color faded, scattering into the fog.

[Left side.]

Shard held his breath, focusing as the “Night Watchman” drew a light trace through the fog, the distinctive sound of cold steel collision, however, didn’t carry far in the fog. His sweeping longsword accurately deflected the lunging rapier, then with a twist of his wrist, he swung the sword single-handedly, pressing the rapier towards the ground:

“The opponent’s strength is not greater than mine!”

He thought to himself. As the Earl attempted to grapple with him, Shard kicked forward with his left foot, directly propelling the Earl into the fog.

The resurgent lost soul disappeared again, and Shard closed his eyes, turning and diagonally cleaving at the same time as a voice whispered hints in his ear. As the “Night Watchman” faintly glowed the moment it touched the rapier, Shard, with his eyes now open and holding the sword with both hands, delivered a diagonal slash with all his might. Relying on his powerful physical constitution, he swept sideways and upward.

The increasingly inhuman Earl Dalark had no option but to retreat, as Shard advanced yet another step, his longsword held high, slashing down with the momentum:

“Ha!”

A chill traveled up his arm, converging into the blade, as the jet-black gleam of the sword slash swung forward. The bracing black light suddenly appeared, erasing the white fog it touched. This sword light, derived from Angel Power, pierced straight through Earl Dalark’s body.

The latter grunted, his body becoming even more translucent. He quickly drifted backward, then disappeared again into the fog.

“He’s wounded.”

Shard grunted, his expression serious as he stood still, then suddenly rolled forward—

Boom!

At the spot where Shard previously stood, the tall Earl descended from the sky, slamming his dual-gripped sword down, causing a spider-web of cracks to rapidly spread around the trembling ground.

The rolling Shard hadn’t had the chance to stand up when an inhuman roar emitted from the Earl’s mouth. He squatted on the spot, his wide-open mouth targeting Shard, and as Shard rolled sideways again, a gray Light Pillar tore through the fog from the mouth, sweeping from left to right. The withered yellow grass and trees beside the courtyard aged and withered rapidly upon contact with the gray light beam as if their life cycles were fast-forwarding.

Shard didn’t dare to test what this was exactly, and after scrambling up with one hand, he leaped into the air with the help of Sorcery:

“Wasn’t this a sword duel?”

The gray Light Pillar immediately swept towards the sky, as if trying to cut through the curtain of white fog, but Shard in the air had already vanished.

Just as the crouching Earl closed his mouth in astonishment, the Outlander who appeared behind him wielded his longsword, now emitting a black light, delivering a diagonal slash that made the blade wedge into his hard shoulder blade before stopping.

“You…”

The Earl turned his head a full one hundred and eighty degrees to look at Shard, while the “Night Watchman,” upon contact with his body, actually emitted black smoke with the stench of rot.

“Do you concede? It seems I have won. I could let you leave with some dignity…”

Shard eyed him.

“If I were you, I would say the same. But I truly cannot reconcile with it, why, why do all of you get to live?”

He seemed on the verge of losing control of his emotions, with black mist billowing out of his pores, and his whole being seemed to swell to the brink of explosion.

Shard immediately retreated, but the suppressed rage burst forth in that moment. Black currents exploded from all over the Earl’s body, their formidable surge strong enough to flatten the lawn and send Shard flying, with sword and all, to a distance. He tumbled twice on the ground before leveraging a stand.

Looking up again, the pitch-black mist swirled around Earl Dalark, making his originally lean figure look incredibly strong. The dark mist even eroded and transformed the surrounding white fog, crowded with wailing human faces surging within it.

As the Earl rose into the air with a rapier in hand, he waved his left hand, and a multitude of human face-shaped black mist bullets, with the sound of sonic booms, shot towards Shard like a series of raindrops.

“Is he getting stronger and stronger?”

Shard hastily dodged to the side, and the stone chips raised by the black mist bullets hitting the ground still managed to scrape his right leg, fortunately, it was only a superficial wound.