Chapter 140: Victory of Arcane
Bloodhand Kahn charged madly forward, cutting down and tearing apart more than a dozen monster knights along the way.
But he gained nothing.
The terrifying monster spiraled into complete madness, drawn to the scent of blood and flesh, turning to charge toward the camp.
Any monsters in his path were cleaved in half with a single swing of his axe.
In just a few dozen meters, Bloodhand Kahn had killed nearly a hundred monsters.
His wild roars turned him into a true beast, once again slaughtering his way to the walls.
Witnessing his rampage, the soldiers defending the walls felt an overwhelming sense of despair and fear.
The Arcanist had sacrificed himself!
The walls were broken!
Who would save them now?
This time, standing before him was Beelzebub!
Clang!
Two massive axes collided, sending a jolt of pain through Beelzebub's hands as blood surged in his chest.
He didn't retreat, standing firmly at the breach, his eyes bloodshot.
Summoning all his strength, Beelzebub took a deep breath and swung his axe once more at the charging Bloodhand Kahn.
Bam!
The terrifying impact tore through Beelzebub's chest, and he spat out a mouthful of blood as his body was sent flying.
He crashed heavily to the ground, his head spinning, his vision blurred, and his heart filled with unwillingness:
"Is it always like this?"
"Am I doomed to fail?"
Unspeakable rage surged through Beelzebub's mind.
An indescribable force rose from within his body.
He roared in fury, struggling to his feet, dragging his bloodied axe, standing once more in front of Bloodhand Kahn.
Bam!
Before he could strike, his body was flung away again, crashing to the ground near the tents.
Anger alone could not create miracles!
The berserk Bloodhand Kahn, his twisted hooves thundering forward, was about to bring his axe down on the fallen Beelzebub.
The surrounding soldiers saw this and trembled in fear.
The armored barbarian soldiers prepared to rush forward.
But monster knights emerging from the breach held them at bay.
As Bloodhand Kahn closed in on Beelzebub, Adam Smith, sword in hand, desperately charged forward.
Beelzebub continued coughing up blood, feeling his strength slipping away, his pupils dilating.
Just as despair overcame him, a voice laced with a hint of amusement entered his ears.
"Well done, now rest."
As the words fell, a refreshing cool energy enveloped Beelzebub, stabilizing his injuries.
The last thing Beelzebub saw before he lost consciousness,
Was a dark green arcane light landing on Bloodhand Kahn, immediately weakening his terrifying aura.
A red light shot out.
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Sorcery Monarch
Science FictionCrossing into Netheril, becoming a small lord. Nurturing a Time Whelp, developing arcane magic, and transforming technology. Absorbing populations from various races such as humans, dwarves, elves, halflings, drow, tieflings, and the magicborn, to...
