GA: Chapter 153: Dying at the Hands of Demons While Protecting Others — The Greatest Honor for a Daoist
Was he afraid?
He was, inevitably. But the fear was outweighed by worry — worry about what would happen to the villagers after he died.
As for fleeing out of terror, saving only himself — that thought never once entered Master Nine's mind.
Abandoning his duty to protect the people, abandoning the extermination of demons, out of cowardice — a person like that had no right to call themselves a Daoist, and would be a disgrace to everything Maoshan had taught him.
In his eyes, dying at the hands of demons while protecting the people was the greatest honor a demon-slaying, Dao-upholding Daoist could receive.
Even if his soul were to descend to the underworld afterward and stand before the elder masters and patriarchs of Maoshan — he could look them in the eye and say with respect: This disciple did not fail Maoshan. Did not fail the people.
"So this is the limit of this world's Child of Fortune."
"Having this much strength in a nearly depleted age of spiritual energy is admirable, I suppose — but it's too weak. Truly, too weak."
"So weak I have no interest in fighting him."
In the sky above, seated on a throne of bones wreathed in underworld energy, a figure of striking, otherworldly beauty looked down at Master Nine's battle with ruby-clear eyes that held nothing but boredom.
"Though his strength is weak enough to bore me — something about this Child of Fortune feels oddly familiar."
"There's some information about him in that creature's memories... not worth dwelling on. Just a soul with weak power and decent fortune — and in the moment of his death, he somehow received the blessing of a [Rule-Class Item] that carried his soul across to the demon realm."
"If I hadn't crushed him in the soul struggle and devoured him, he might have actually succeeded in taking over my body."
"But because of that, I was able to bind with the [Rule-Class Item] and come to this world."
"Demon Ancestor. You crushed me back then, took everything from me."
"One day, I will return it to you — a hundredfold, a thousandfold, a tenthousandfold."
As he said it, boundless killing intent surfaced in Mórú's eyes.
His gaze returned to Master Nine, still fighting below to protect the villagers. Those cold ruby pupils narrowed. He extended one finger, and a small, dark sphere began to form slowly. He was done playing.
BOOM.
A thought — and a black beam pierced through space, driving straight toward Master Nine below.
Master Nine's expression changed. He looked up at the sky. The weight of death pressed down on his heart.
The demons around him sensed their king's power and dropped to the ground, trembling.
"Is this how I die?"
Master Nine let out a quiet sigh. In the end, their reinforcements hadn't arrived in time.
He'd never quite understood what the Group Leader meant when she called the chat group "useless" — but now, perhaps, he felt it a little.
CRACK.
In that instant, the world seemed to pause.
From the darkness of night, endless radiance burst forth — blazing across heaven and earth, turning the black of night to something bright as day.
Light. Dazzling, brilliant light.
BOOM—!
With the light came a tremendous explosion. Mórú watched the phenomenon with curious interest, paying no attention to the destruction his own attack had wrought below.
He heard no sound from the one down there — which meant the Child of Fortune had clearly been pulled to safety.
He wasn't particularly bothered. That person would die at his hands eventually. It was only a matter of when.
What interested him far more was the source of the light appearing in the sky.
When the radiance settled, a giant stood in the space between heaven and earth — dozens of meters tall, its body a blend of blue, red, and silver, a translucent crystal gleaming green on its chest like a gem.
"Is that... Ultraman Tiga?"
The moment his eyes fell on the giant, the memories he'd devoured from the transmigrator surfaced unbidden.
Clearly, the transmigrator's recollection of this giant was far more vivid than anything connected to this world's Child of Fortune — and in those memories, the giant was a character from a tokusatsu production.
"Interesting! This is truly interesting!"
After a brief moment of distraction, Mórú broke into a wide smile, visibly elated.
If this being wasn't native to this world, its presence here meant it had arrived for a reason — and that reason almost certainly involved a [Rule-Class Item], just as his own crossing had.
Wasn't that worth being pleased about?
As for Ultraman Tiga's power — he had some knowledge from the devoured memories. By ordinary standards the being was god-like in force, but it wasn't a powerhouse he needed to fear.
What deserved any attention at all was the peculiar nature of Ultraman combat ability — that idealistic quality. A strength already established that could suddenly grow far greater in response to certain conditions, sometimes to a frightening degree.
But that only happened in a world that belonged to Ultraman. In this world, it could only express its true, inherent strength — nothing more.
And yet what came next made him furrow his brow.
In his field of vision, beside Tiga, another figure had appeared — tall, with the head of a dragon and a human build thick with muscle, a dragon's tail extending from behind it. In its hand it was carrying this world's Child of Fortune.
And from that hand bloomed a rich, healing energy, mending the condition of the battered Child of Fortune.
"Another character from a different world."
"One of the Eight Great Demons — the Demon of Fire. The Holy Lord."
"And the power of the Twelve Talismans—"
The smile on Mórú's face only deepened. The transmigrator's memories had given him a picture of the Holy Lord's strength — the force of flame, and the power of the Twelve Zodiac Talismans.
Life from stillness. Immortality.
Not bad. Genuinely not bad.
Once he had absorbed and merged those abilities — he would grow even stronger.
He hadn't even fought yet, and already he regarded the Holy Lord's power as something that would soon be his.
A demon that had been toyed with time and again by weaker opponents — he didn't consider it a genuine threat.
Meanwhile, Tiga, unaware of Mórú's gaze, spread both arms wide. Massive quantities of light particles surged outward toward the surrounding demons.
Screams. Wails. Within moments, the demons dissolved into the light and were gone.
The Holy Lord dropped Master Nine — now fully healed by the Horse Talisman — back to the ground.
"You remind me of him."
In truth, they had arrived some time ago. At the time, Master Nine was still setting up the formation array inside the village. Intending to observe, they had held back and watched from a distance.
Which meant they had seen the whole thing — Master Nine standing alone, holding back the demons for the sake of those villagers.
That utter disregard for his own life — the Holy Lord had seen a glimpse of Lopez in it.
It wasn't a compliment. The Holy Lord didn't genuinely compliment people. And in his eyes, Lopez wasn't exactly a term of praise either. He simply felt it — that was all.
....
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