Chapter 974 A True Hero?
The moment the entire army charged towards the fearsome demon, their destinies were sealed. Rising from the ground, her mist transformed into a colossal swamp that beckoned the blind men to enter blindly. On the opposing side, the battle-worn holy knight fixed a piercing gaze upon the cloaked figure.
"Who are you?" he questioned with a raspy voice. Arthur could now discern the knight's eye through the narrow slits of his helmet, exposing eyes burdened with the weight of time. In an unsettling shade of blue, they scrutinized Arthur as if searching for the secrets he held within.
Chapter Rewrite:
Arthur raised his dagger, causing it to vanish from his grasp, and calmly retorted, "As I've already stated, I embody the repercussions of injustice."
The old man, struggling to his feet while gripping his shattered sword with trembling fingers, questioned incredulously, "And yet, you align yourself with a demon? How can you make such a claim?" His voice carried a mix of bewilderment and anger. "My holy sword has vanquished countless demonic creatures, leaving not a scratch upon its blade. But you... you shattered it. What does that make you?"
Arthur smirked, lowering his hand that still crackled with remnants of dark lightning. "Are you about to brand me something worse than a demon? Even after losing that borrowed strength, your zealous mindset remains unyielding?"
"I am a devout servant of the gods," the man declared proudly, as he let his sword fall to the ground, its once-proud form reduced to insignificance. "This body of mine... it is a sacred vessel, a temple to honor the gods."
With a determined motion, the man removed his helmet, revealing a disfigured head. A deep blue gaze peered out from beneath a partially missing skull, while a torn visage exposed his teeth and a fragment of his nose.
"My name is Bartholomew, and this face is the cruel gift bestowed upon me by the demons," he uttered with anguish. "The very same demons you have chosen to forge an alliance with, human. In my waking moments and in my dreams, I see the man who tore my head asunder. The gods, they alone saved me from the clutches of death."
Arthur found himself at a loss for words as he beheld Bartholomew's disfigured countenance. Yet, it was not the absence of a portion of his skull or the menacing display of his teeth that terrified onlookers It was the manic glimmer in his eyes, piercing through all barriers, fixated on a sole objective: the annihilation of demons.
After a few moments of silence, Arthur sighed and spoke, "This woman before us, she isn't the one responsible for your torment, is she?" he inquired. "I comprehend the depths of your animosity towards demons, but, as I've said previously, it is unjust to condemn an entire race based on the actions of a few."
"A few?" Bartholomew muttered, his confusion evident, before erupting into laughter. "Now I see that you know nothing of the atrocities committed by this race! Demons have slaughtered my entire family, brothers and sisters, right before my eyes! Every time demons manifest themselves, they ruthlessly exterminate and consume humans to fuel their own strength. They thrive on human blood! Just look at that demon over there!"
With a sweeping gesture, Bartholomew directed Arthur's gaze towards the ongoing battle behind them. As Arthur's eyes settled upon the scene, they widened in shock. Countless men and women ventured into the crimson swamp, only to be impaled by blood-soaked spikes that devoured them whole.
Notably absent were the screams of agony. Instead, urgent shouts and military commands filled the air as commanders attempted to orchestrate their troops. Yet, their efforts were in vain against the motionless demoness who stood at the center of the storm. And in that moment, their eyes locked. Arthur and the demoness shared an unspoken connection, their gazes locking amidst the chaos.
Though separated by distance, a silent understanding seemed to pass between Arthur and the demoness. It was as if she had already provided her answer. Bartholomew's accounts of her kind were not unfounded, yet Arthur couldn't shake the image of her tending to the orphans, displaying a compassion that defied the monstrous reputation he had been presented.
"This demon is different," Arthur murmured, observing the surprise flicker across her visage. "I choose to believe that she is unlike everything you have described. Until I witness her inflicting harm upon others without cause, I will hold firm to the belief that she is not a mindless beast."
"What do you call this, then?!" Bartholomew bellowed with fury, taking a menacing step forward, causing Arthur to redirect his attention back to the old man. "She is mercilessly slaughtering hundreds, and yet you choose to extend your trust towards her?"
"These hundreds," Arthur responded with a furrowed brow, "followed their own greed and willingly ventured into their own demise. Do you expect her to passively await their deaths?"
"The gods, the very fabric of existence, and humanity itself desire their demise," Bartholomew declared, his expression growing darker as he unfastened his armor and discarded it, followed by the removal of his shirt. His physique was sculpted, adorned with countless scars. However, it was the circular marking carved into his abdomen that unsettled Arthur. "And I am prepared to offer my entire being in service to the gods... to eradicate their evil."
"The time for words is over," Arthur declared, gesturing towards the demon. "Unleash your final trump card. I shall wait... and then crush it, just as I have done before."
"Arrogant!" Bartholomew bellowed, seizing the circular marking on his abdomen and tearing into his own flesh. Blood streamed from the wounds, mingling with the radiant glow emanating from the circle. "Allow me to demonstrate... the power of a true hero!"
The luminous circle engulfed the surroundings, blinding the world, as Bartholomew began to grow in size. His muscles expanded beyond the confines of humanity, while his head enlarged, his bluish eyes glaring at Arthur with an intense hatred.
"Your very existence... poses a threat to the gods," Bartholomew rasped, each word accompanied by a cough, as if it were his last. "I shall exterminate all who oppose Devaheim, as its son and servant."
Arthur lifted his gaze, observing the figure before him, who no longer resembled a man. Standing nearly five meters tall, Bartholomew resembled a colossal structure rather than a holy warrior. His face contorted, exposing immense blue eyes that rendered him decidedly inhuman. Yet, his body radiated with a divine light.
"Is this the appearance of their so-called 'servant'?" Arthur questioned, a tinge of sorrow in his voice. "You resemble nothing more than a beast now, Bartholomew. The reason I sought this fight was not because I believed the words of the demon. It was because I believed that even the most blind among us can see... that we have no god but ourselves. I believed that... my words would reach you."
Bartholomew let loose an enraged, unintelligible roar, swinging his fist towards Arthur. The ebony armor materialized, deflecting the attack as Arthur stood unwavering, allowing the full force of the blow to strike his chest. A tremendous impact resonated, but Arthur remained steadfast, as immovable as a mountain.
BOOM!
The ground quaked beneath him, yet Arthur stood resolute. Bartholomew grunted, withdrawing his fist and slamming it into the earth, causing the terrain to shatter. With a powerful strike, he sent Arthur hurtling through the air.
His body cut through the battlefield with a piercing whistle as he soared above the countless fallen soldiers, crashing into a colossal tree that splintered in half upon impact. After a brief moment of collapse, Arthur rose, his armor crackling with remnants of black lightning.
"GRRRAAAHHHH!" The towering holy man unleashed a thunderous roar, hurtling through the chaos of the battlefield towards Arthur. Anyone in his path was sent hurtling through the air, colliding with trees and meeting their demise.
Amidst the rising dust, Arthur emerged unscathed, both body and armor untouched. For some inexplicable reason, this divine energy and its effects were unable to harm his armor, reminiscent of his battle against Astraeus.
"Now that you have transformed into a monster, Bartholomew, I shall unleash the one residing within me," Arthur declared, a smile playing upon his lips as he clutched his chest. "This wrath has been yearning ever since my encounter with the gods. I wish to... eradicate anything associated with them, including you."
A black flame erupted from Arthur's chest, surging through his fingertips. It resembled a rebellious black blossom, seeking liberation from its vessel. With a terrifying, bloodthirsty gaze, Arthur turned his attention towards the approaching behemoth. The flames infiltrated his skin, ascending towards his face, heralding a deep inhalation before he unleashed a deafening roar.
"AGGGGGHHHHHHH!"
It was a cry of enraged fury that reverberated through the heavens. The forest quaked, overshadowing the giant's thunderous footsteps as he advanced towards Arthur. In the face of this wrathful bellow, the hearts of onlookers crumbled, causing many to lose their fighting spirit and crumple to the ground.
Surrounded by explosive black lightning, Arthur stood at the epicenter, his power threatening to consume the world. The colossal figure charged towards him, devoid of reason or the primal instinct of fear.
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