CHAPTER 852: THE SAME PATH AS HIM

Teeth? Small mountains? Blades?

These weren’t teeth at all. They were four massive, rotating blades. Orion stood in the center of the Four-Gate Blade Formation, the opening gambit Chix had laid from the very beginning. It had been this very artifact that had yanked Orion out of his Ghostly Steps.

Kch-Kch-Kch!

The sound of the four giant blades grinding and cutting at Orion was terrifying. In front of him, the Abyssal Devil Shield manifested, releasing a defensive barrier that forcibly held the blades at bay. Even so, the sound of steel grinding against the shield was enough to make Orion’s heart pound.

"Such impressive resources you have," Chix commented, his voice tinged with envy at the shield’s power.

"Is that so?" Orion retorted. "Then by all means, enjoy it."

Letting the giant blades continue to grind against the shield, Orion focused his will. The pair of devil eyes on the face of the Abyssal Devil Shield snapped open. An invisible ripple spread out—the Devil’s Gaze.

An opportunity.

Orion’s figure flashed. When he reappeared, he was behind Chix. His trident blazed with fire and crackled with electricity, and because of his Instant Impact, it carried a powerful sonic shockwave.

Against another opponent, this sonic attack might have been negligible, something neither of them would have paid much mind. But against this Death-Soul, stunned by the Devil’s Gaze and with its defenses down, the sonic damage was immense.

"Aaaaiiiiieeeee!"

A sharp, ear-piercing wail of agony echoed through the arena, a sound not of a soul nor of a beast, but a roar filled with utter fear and despair.

Orion felt it clearly. When his trident, Flame of Will, had pierced Chix’s body, there had been no feeling of substance, like stabbing at empty air. But under the impact of the sonic wave, Chix’s body was beginning to solidify. Orion knew he had found a breakthrough, but his attack power still seemed insufficient. Chix’s body was flickering rapidly between its incorporeal and corporeal states.

"ROAR!"

Orion’s Titan Form let out a deafening roar, unleashing a second sonic attack at point-blank range. Under the double assault, Chix’s body finally became fully solid.

With its form now tangible, the fire and lightning on the trident found their target and instantly detonated.

BOOM!

Chix’s body exploded, turning to ash.

But Orion did not celebrate. Instead, his brow furrowed. A peak-tier Archlord could not possibly be killed so easily. They would certainly have more trump cards. This was a judgment born from his understanding of his brothers-in-arms, like Alexander and Leonidas.

Sure enough, in the distance, the four blades of the formation vanished, reforming into the black tooth pendant. A plume of black mist seeped from it, and within the mist, Chix’s figure slowly coalesced. Once he had fully stepped out of the mist, the tooth pendant shattered, turning to dust.

"Friend, you are even stronger than I estimated," Chix said, his tone no longer relaxed. The fact that Orion could destroy his first form meant he possessed the power to win this duel.

"Victory is not decided, and death is not yet certain. Let us continue."

As Chix spoke, writhing masses of black tentacles began to pour out from under his robes. They fused and intertwined, filling out his withered, dry frame.

In a matter of seconds, the being that stood before Orion was an invincible ’god’, its body a mass of dragon-like muscles that looked as if they were forged from steel, radiating an aura that could challenge the heavens and the earth. This new form exerted an immense pressure on Orion.

"Friend," Chix said with an evil grin, "I have suddenly taken an interest in your body. I think I will collect it."

He raised his scythe and teleported behind Orion.

Clang!

Orion was prepared, countering with a back-thrust of his trident. Crimson fire and crackling lightning leaped from the weapon, attempting to harm Chix once more. It had no effect. The black tentacles that formed Chix’s new muscles were made of some unknown material that was highly resistant to both fire and lightning.

In other words, Chix’s second form was a monster with both terrifying offense and defense.

With no time to think, Orion focused all his energy on the fight. The scythe swung, the trident thrusted. Two masters of movement, one using Instant Impact, the other teleportation, clashed at an incredible frequency. The close-quarters battle had begun, a frenzy of insane collisions.

Their figures flickered across the dueling ground, moving so fast they were little more than blurs. The only way to track their positions was to watch the Flesh Golem in the center of the arena, its head constantly swiveling to follow the fight.

In the colosseum, on the third level.

Compared to the frantic battles of the Archlords Orion, Leonidas, and Alexander, the duel between the demigod phantoms was far calmer.

"Hehe, I never expected my opponent would be you," a cloaked old man said, standing before Arthas. "When did you advance to demigod?" Unlike the other Death-Souls, he carried no weapon, no artifact.

"Just recently promoted," Arthas replied, his voice cold. "Perfect timing to get some practice with you." As he spoke, a white, bone-forged sword condensed from pure divine power appeared in his hand. He pointed it at the old man in a clear invitation to battle.

"Your Champions Alliance grows stronger and stronger," the old man mused. "I thought for sure your great commander would be the one fighting this time."

From their conversation, it was clear that this Death-Soul demigod knew Arthas, and was also acquainted with the senior members of the Champions Alliance.

"If our commander took the field, would there even be a game for us to play?" Arthas scoffed, his tone a mixture of disdain for his enemy and pride in his leader. "It’s good for a man to know his own limitations."

The pride was for his commander, Thresh.

"True enough. If he took the field, it wouldn’t even be a fight," the old man agreed. As he spoke of the Champions Alliance’s commander, an image coalesced in his mind’s eye: a powerful body, a sharp blade aura, and a pair of eyes that could look down upon the gods themselves—eyes that were always confident, always resolute.

"A sword?" The old man’s reverie broke. He looked at the sword in Arthas’s hand, a new trace of apprehension in his eyes, but also a flicker of eagerness.

"It seems you wish to walk the same path as him."

The next moment, sword light flashed, and a Death-Soul began to chant. The battle, a clash of divine power and will, had already begun.