Midra's mind was now replaced by a mass of Frenzied Flame.
His originally stooped figure stood tall, the yellow rags wrapped around his skeletal frame fluttering like a cape. His presence was completely different from before.
Like two different people.
He raised the Greatsword of Eternal Punishment. The intersecting branches on its surface gathered and merged, responding to the king's fighting spirit and forming into a weapon.
The curse of the Frenzied Flame flowed through the blade, reaching maximum power.
The perfect synergy between weapon and magic affinity was fully embodied in Midra.
Then, the Lord of Frenzied Flame spread his arms and roared. The force was like a thunderclap, the resounding blast striking the eardrums of the three. The ceiling cracked, and the ground trembled. A maddening magic radiated from his center, its ripples expanding like a rising sun.
"It's coming!"
As Frieren shouted a warning, the Mimic Tear immediately teleported, narrowly dodging the jet of Frenzied Flame.
The point of impact showed no intense physical destruction, but a single glance caused one's eyes to dry and ache. The residual property of mental frenzy was far more difficult to deal with.
Midra's stream of fire continued.
That bizarre head seemed to possess limitless magic, continuously releasing a torrent of flame. Streaks of fire-serpents shot out intermittently, seeking any sign of life as their perfect target.
"Golden Parry!"
The Mimic Tear actively parried a blast of Frenzied Flame and followed up with a sudden Carian Greatsword thrust.
With a sharp clang, the Greatsword of Eternal Punishment held firm. The clash of equals broke apart in an instant. Neither was a strength-based fighter, so there was no need to get entangled. They both simultaneously opted for weapon skills and coverage, a flurry of flashing blades.
Both of their movements were so fast that they were almost just afterimages.
In terms of martial arts, the Mimic Tear, who possessed the heritage of the Eternal Dynasty, had the upper hand. Its footwork was phantom-like and untouchable as it moved amidst the cold glint of steel, then seized an opportunity for a finishing blow to the throat—
"Thwip!"
The Greatsword of Eternal Punishment moved with astonishing speed, blocking in time to intercept her attack, deflecting the Transient Moonlight (Moonveil's Skill) away from the throat.
The Mimic Tear, without hesitation, followed up with a Crystal Barrage or Glintstone Arc.
The dense barrage enveloped him, instantly filling his vision. Each shard possessed deadly piercing power, speed, and explosive damage, but most importantly, they concealed the caster's small frame.
The first wave of shards was blocked by the greatsword, but amidst the clattering, the silver-haired maiden lunged from a low stance with a thrust.
"If one move fails, try another."
The Transient Moonlight (Moonveil's Skill), condensed to its absolute limit, erupted forth. The arc of light was dazzling, overpowering even the intensity of the Frenzied Flame as its edge fell.
This sword strike carved a heavy slash from Midra's shoulder to his abdomen, and the terrifying magical impact sent him flying. He crashed to the ground with a thud, creating a crater in the ruins as countless pieces of debris rained down from the ceiling.
Even though the Mimic Tear specialized in sorcery combat, it didn't mean its physical attacks were weak.
Even Midra had to admit it hurt. His body, still not fully adapted, was somewhat sluggish. In that moment, his head spun, the world suddenly tilted, and then he found himself on the ground.
However, he felt his power was still vigorous, boundless.
The Lord of Frenzied Flame rose to his feet again. Flames erupted from the wound, gradually closing it and consuming the residual magic of night.
"How troublesome."
The Mimic Tear clicked its tongue. Before it could reset its stance, it saw its opponent begin to dash—so fast.
In an instant, the Greatsword of Eternal Punishment swept towards it. The blade was closing in, but in the next moment, two powerful torrents of spirit force slammed into the target, forcibly pushing him back.
It was the matriarch who acted, and she started with a dual-staff stance.
"My apologies, I failed to suppress him."
"It's not your fault. The problem lies with the Outer God." Frieren explained with a grave expression: "The power of the Frenzied Flame Three Fingers is gradually manifesting and has merged with Midra. His physical shell is insignificant now; his core is a form of energy, making him difficult to harm directly."
She had seen a similar situation in the Swamp of Aeonia, where she had once fought the possessed veteran general and the Goddess of Rot at the same time.
The battle was gradually turning into a three-on-two situation, and the outlook was grim.
She looked back at Melina, who also recalled that dangerous experience. If they delayed any longer, the will of the Outer God would likely descend completely. They had to find a way to expel it with Destined Death.
"Hoo..."
Suddenly, Midra stepped back and cast a defensive line of fire, his own maddening energy safeguarding him.
He had, of course, seen through their plan.
"I will not let you have your way," a sinister voice echoed in the air. "Your Destined Death is too faint, and if it doesn't hit, it's meaningless."
"So you're scared. Help me create an opportunity to kill him."
Melina tightened her grip on her ceremonial dagger and held it before her. A black-red energy coiled around it, dyeing the white blade a deep, dark color. Every living being in The Lands Between would feel an instinctual dread. This was a mark of death that even the Erdtree of rebirth could not erase.
Even the Eternal Queen could only seal it. Its concept represents finality, an erasure by the rules of existence, and it should not be underestimated.
They had to act fast.
Midra's will to fight was not high, but he didn't want to die either. A voice in his head kept urging him on:
"Hold on until my will descends, then we shall become one."
The Outer God behind him knew full well that dealing with three demigods was a fantasy. But if it joined the fray, the outcome was uncertain. Moreover, a perfect target was right before it; the Tarnished of kingly stature was the only opening.
Noticing the gaze, Frieren immediately retaliated. A torrent of magic dispersed the eye coalescing in the void, causing even Midra to stagger.
The Mimic Tear immediately used Star Shower or Night Comet.
Blue-black magic erupted, flying from all sorts of difficult angles. Its invisible quality made it hard to detect at first glance.
He intended to dodge, but the silver-haired girl closed in, swinging two Carian Slicers. The dual blades moved like afterimages, almost invisible, their god-like attack patterns leaving Midra completely powerless to resist.
"Clang, clang!"
He could only see Frieren flashing and weaving before him as blood splattered.
Nearby, the Mimic Tear would occasionally suppress him with magic, their coordination seamless.
Although the body modified by the Frenzied Flame wasn't afraid of such minor wounds, he couldn't forget that Melina was still prowling the edge of the battlefield, observing, preparing a fatal blow. If she landed a hit, it would be a disaster; his very essence would be wounded.
"Damn you, a bunch of idiots..."
A roar escaped from deep within Midra's throat, layered with echoes, the clamor of countless wills shouting in unison.
His movements then became wild and sweeping, his sharp sword dancing wantonly with Frenzied Flame.
Each swing would splatter the most vile madness-inducing particles, leaving behind whispers in the room. All three felt their eyeballs grow dry and sore...
This was bad. It was a sign of Frenzied Flame erosion. He had changed tactics:
No longer hoping for an advantage in direct combat, but aiming to spread the infection.
Seeing this, Frieren and the Mimic Tear had to temporarily retreat to avoid the brunt of the attack. It was impossible to meet this head-on.
Little did they know, the Outer God was setting the stage.
It wanted to force an opening, to infect the quasi-king with the Frenzied Flame first. Midra, without any warning, suddenly erupted, quickstepping forward in a dash, completely ignoring the Mimic Tear's blade blocking his path as he lunged for the silver-haired girl.
"Clang!"
Frieren reacted with extreme speed, turning sideways while parrying to deflect the force. However, her opponent, empowered by the Outer God, possessed exaggerated strength, inertia, and speed. His rhythm was not broken in the slightest, and he followed up with another move.
But it stopped right before her eyes. The Mimic Tear had grabbed Midra's shoulder and executed a throw.
The unexpected attack landed.
"I knew you'd target the matriarch," it seemed to say. "Don't think you can get past me."
The move lacked power but was brutally effective in its suddenness, breaking his rhythm and slamming him into the floor. Who would have expected a demigod sorcerer to suddenly use a back suplex? Even the will of the Frenzied Flame was left dazed.
But the contamination could be unleashed unconsciously. The free-floating corruption in the air still flew towards Frieren.
"Carian Retaliation!"
With swift hands and sharp eyes, she caught the magic and retaliated, transforming it into a greatsword that flew back and slammed squarely into Midra's chest.
The sound of ribs cracking could be heard.
Once the element of surprise was gone, a sudden, impulsive attack was meaningless and couldn't cause any real harm.
"To deal with you, it seems I really need a series of interlocking moves..."
Even the experienced will of the Frenzied Flame felt how difficult this was. This quasi-king was extremely vigilant, with superb martial skill and divine reflexes, making it hard to find an opening. It had to descend faster, or else delaying might lead to unforeseen changes.
However, its tactical thinking remained unchanged.
The key to breaking the stalemate was still Frieren. At the very least, its most troublesome enemy had to be tainted by the Frenzied Flame. A momentary sneak attack was useless; did it have to rely on quantity to win?
As it pondered, a flash of black-red magic flickered in the corner of its eye, and alarm bells screamed in its mind. Survival instincts drove its body to roll away desperately, but it couldn't avoid being grazed by the blade's edge. The absolutely terrifying Rune of Death flew past its left hand.
"Clang!"
The sneak attack from Melina annihilated its entire left forearm, and even caused its life force to continuously weaken.
Seeing the situation turn dire, Midra decisively severed his own arm, cutting it off at the root and cauterizing the wound with Frenzied Flame. Yet this only barely stanched the bleeding; his actual life force was still draining away.
"Thanks to you, this vessel was almost destroyed."
Even the Outer God felt a lingering fear. It was too dangerous. If that had been a direct hit, the connection would have likely been severed on the spot, leaving behind a weakened Lord of Frenzied Flame who wouldn't have lasted long.
"So being hit by Destined Death causes a continuous drain on life force."
Frieren was also observing one of the paramount powers of order in The Lands Between. No wonder one of the foundations of the Golden Order was to seal Death. It was truly terrifying. Just a wisp of it was fatal. A pity it wasn't a complete hit.
She immediately moved to support Melina, who was being pursued after her failed attack, and her stellar magic checked the Lord of Frenzied Flame's advance.
At the same time, the Mimic Tear also moved forward to assist.
The formation was restored.
The tactical arrangement returned to the Mimic Tear taking the lead for close-quarters combat, Frieren providing mid- to long-range fire suppression, and Melina remaining in stealth for a fatal blow at any moment... Continuing like this meant certain death.
The difference was that Midra's life force was now like a candle in the wind, constantly being worn away by the Rune of Death.
There was no time to worry about anything else. At this point, it had to take a risk.
The fiery head of the Lord of Frenzied Flame burned ever brighter. A phantom of the Three Fingers appeared in the air, and the Outer God's projected silhouette grew more solid. But the real change was happening elsewhere—
The entire Valleybottom Forest shrieked. Withered trees reignited, the wind blew embers, and wisps of flame gathered into the mansion.
The riverbank at the valley bottom was illuminated.
A hanging sun of yellow and black spread its ultimate corruption, incinerating the mansion's ceiling and looming over their heads with boundless pressure.
Frieren, without hesitation, cast a maximized barrier for protection. Just as the defense was raised, its outermost layer began to melt. It could even assimilate magic itself. The enemy had clearly gone all out, intending to settle this once and for all.
"Clang!"
She planted one staff into the ground to maintain the barrier, while her other staff shot out a starlight-blue beam.
However, Midra paid it no mind. Instead, he and the Outer God lunged at Melina, right at the melting edge of the barrier.
In an instant, the Mimic Tear blocked their path.
Night sorcery blocked the Greatsword of Eternal Punishment, but it couldn't block the attack from the phantom of the Three Fingers. The finger collided with a Golden Wave. They were evenly matched, and the shockwave turned the upper levels of the mansion to dust.
The two exchanged a blow with no clear winner. Her perception detected no injuries....
"You were distracted."
Unbeknownst to her, several Untouchable Old Men had appeared behind her and lunged forward. Frieren, reacting instantly, used the fast-striking Carian Slicer to cover herself, but the enemy had no intention of fighting. They shattered on contact, self-destructing on the spot.
The first wave of Frenzied Flame slammed into her personal defense, the Thops's Barrier or Carian Retaliation, which immediately showed flickering signs of collapse.
She wanted to reinforce her defense, but that meant allocating less power to the main barrier.
From start to finish, her gaze never fell on the danger before her. Instead, she watched as the Lord of Frenzied Flame and the Frenzied Flame Three Fingers assaulted her two companions.
"I hesitated..."
The second wave of self-detonating flame melted the Thops's Barrier or Carian Retaliation.
A flicker of joy crossed the eyes of the Untouchable Old Men, but in the next moment, a brilliant light blossomed. Sword-qi crisscrossed in all directions like a spider's web. They were all familiar weapon skills: Starstream Sword, Flowing Sword style, and Dragonwound Slash were unleashed in succession, a dazzling and seamless display.
The entire space was momentarily filled with the ultimate sharpness, which tore apart the Untouchable Old Men and also wounded Midra and the Three Fingers, sending them retreating in disarray.
"Boom!"
Including the entire mansion, a large area of the ground collapsed, the overflow of cutting power having sheared a layer off the very rock.
They had never seen, nor could they believe, that one person could master so many martial arts—no, this was already the pinnacle, having integrated the strengths of a hundred schools.
To use weapon skills to defend against the assimilation of the Frenzied Flame was simply unthinkable.
This required not only judgment and reflexes but also a solid foundation of combat knowledge.
Only a warrior of the quasi-king's caliber could achieve this.
Panting, Melina and the Mimic Tear finally regained their footing.
They then looked at the silver-haired figure who stood with her back to them, holding two staves. Why did her aura feel so strange?
"As expected of the matriarch. Let's finish them off in one go."
"Wait..."
Hearing the warning, her expression froze. She watched warily as Frieren turned around, her eyes tightly shut.
To have used multiple sword skills without seeing was something they would have praised in astonishment at any other time, but that was not the point now. The silver-haired girl slowly opened her eyes, revealing hollow blackness from which a brilliant yellow flame poured out, radiating an aura of madness.
Being watched by her sent a chill from head to toe. It was over. The burst of Frenzied Flame just now had been too potent.
"We've won. I have once again infected the quasi-king. Fate favors chaos."
Laughing wildly, the phantom of the Three Fingers and Midra walked towards Frieren and stood shoulder to shoulder with her. Two kingly-level forces of the Frenzied Flame danced wantonly, evaporating everything in all directions, burning without end.
Their hearts grew cold. This was truly a scene from hell.
______
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