Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 534 - 488: The Bound One

The sword pierced flesh, and fresh blood sprayed across the icy plains, dyeing the moonlight with crimson amidst the pallor.

Through his unparalleled martial prowess honed from years of warfare, Gallaron evaded all attacks from the Werewolf Ralph, claws, and fangs alike, and the chains writhing like a riotous swarm of snakes could only leave a layer of frost on his skin.

In their first clash, Ralph was utterly defeated. Gallaron’s Blood Sword nearly split his back along his spine, slicing until the diagonally angled blade struck against sturdy bone, where the fissure finally stopped.

Even with the blessing of mysterious powers, Ralph still quickly fell into disadvantage at their first encounter.

"Hehe... hehehe... hahaha..." As black energy stitched his gaping wound, the Werewolf’s throat issued a chilling laughter. Although he was the one injured, the expression under Ralph’s fur suggested he felt like a victor.

Madman. Gallaron was not satisfied with the exchange, even though he had the upper hand. Ralph was like a crazed beast that didn’t know to flee, weathering a wound that could painfully stop a human heart in its tracks, purely through sheer willpower, even letting out a scornful laugh.

This was troublesome, and Gallaron knew better than anyone what power lay dormant under the lands of Degonris. It was a force so strong that it even made him, once an Angel, apprehensive; Ralph had barely grasped this power, and it emboldened the wolf to howl defiantly at the Angel. Soon, the maddened Ralph would grow stronger and stronger with the support of this power, until the feral fangs could tear the Angel to shreds.

Seemingly dominating the battle, Gallaron understood that the power beneath the earth was steadily awakening, and when it fully roused, the scales would tip. Gallaron would never allow that moment to come.

Swords and claws, chains and wings, frost and blood collided under the warping moonlight, twisting the Angel’s roar and the Werewolf’s maniacal laughter into a night of terror.

With another beat of his wings, Gallaron severed Ralph’s left arm, sending the malevolent wolf crashing into the persistent fog. That was the barrier created by Ralph, within which Silvette and Verlet were kept safe by the white mists.

Gallaron hovered outside the fog, his long sword pointed straight ahead, his Angel’s blood wings spread to eclipse the moonlight. This time, he decided to silence the evil wolf’s howls for good.

The frenzied beast sprinted out of the fog, Ralph landing on all fours, every touch of his claws shattering the frozen ground. His left arm had already been reformed, the Werewolf’s physique giving this man monstrous regenerative abilities.

Now was the moment. The Blood Spell Seal exploded on the sprinting Werewolf’s left arm. During the last encounter where Ralph’s left arm was severed, Gallaron had coated the arm with his own blood, all to prepare for this moment—to break Ralph’s arm and inevitably cause him to flip over during his frenzied charge, losing one of his supports.

The Werewolf’s weak points were its heart and head, much like a natural wolf, its back and skull were much harder than its abdomen.

Gallaron initiated this flip specifically to deliver a death blow to Ralph’s weak spots, aiming directly to crush his heart.

He anticipated Ralph’s cunning and agility, only triggering the Blood Trap he’d set earlier when Ralph’s claws reached for him. This had to happen swiftly, quickly enough for Ralph to have no time to react, quickly enough that he couldn’t evade, so fast, in fact, that Gallaron himself wouldn’t be able to back out.

Gallaron thrust his sword as Ralph’s body flipped, the light-colored fur on his chest momentarily entering his line of sight, his heart almost impaling itself on the sword tip.

All this was within his calculations, but some things were not.

Like Verlet, who had curled up in Ralph’s embrace, grabbing his fur to anchor herself to the Werewolf’s chest with a smile, and the female sheriff with her alchemical fire gun ready, as a black bullet, light as a shuttle, hurtled towards Gallaron’s body when the gun barrel was less than twenty centimeters from him.

"Bang!" The Werewolf Ralph and Verlet smiled identically, uttering the same sound in unison.

The Sage’s Stone, the Bullet of Annihilation.

Frost had already solidified all of Gallaron’s blood in the fight; he couldn’t react, only watching as the black bullet devoured his body.

Crackpop, crackpop.

Cracks spread from the bullet hole in Gallaron’s chest throughout his body, as the blood-ice sculpture shattered in the bleak world.

"No! No!!!!!!"

Gallaron didn’t even leave behind a complete last word.

Ralph, lunging forward, was pierced through the heart by a blade, and his massive body, carrying Verlet, crashed to the ground.

With a snap, Verlet, rubbing her bottom, stood up bewilderedly.

The icy plains and the dim moonlight had vanished, leaving Degonris as a landscape of constant crumbling and falling.

There was no cushion of fur underneath her, and everything seemed illusory, except for the pain in her buttocks that reminded the female sheriff that the dream was over.

The sinister werewolf stood not far away, his coat stained with blood draped over his body. Ralph bent down to pick up his fallen hat and placed it back on his head, then walked towards Silvette, who sat paralyzed on the ground with a vacant look in her eyes.

"Mr. Ralph... you... killed the Angel?"

Ralph’s face was expressionless, "Yes, I dragged him into the dream realm, and killed him there."

"The dream realm can also kill?"

"Thoughts can die, souls can die, so of course, the dream realm can also die."

"As long as the Blood Angel believes that his existence has died, then his existence will be negated by himself."

Ralph put his hand in his pocket and looked at the collapsing chapel.

"You could say, I scared the Angel to death."

When Ralph took control of the mysterious powers of Degonris, his manipulation of this force had already surpassed Gallaron’s expectations.

He dragged the battlefield into the dream realm, making enemies of the dream-walkers. The Blood Angel step by step fell into Ralph’s traps, oppressed, fought desperately, made one fatal mistake after another, losing entirely under the psychological implication of inevitable defeat. The Blood Angel, who had witnessed Ralph’s annihilation of four monsters, understood the concept of the Sage’s Stone. This extensive intelligence on his enemy ultimately became his own death sentence.

Silvette and Ralph stood still at the center of the collapsed Degonris, ignoring Verlet’s anxious cries.

"Is everything over, Mr. Ralph?"

"There’s one small matter left, then it should be over."

"Degonris... is finished, everything I needed to guard, is finished..." Silvette looked into the werewolf’s eyes, those beautiful purple orbs filled with confusion, like a puppet that lost its value and was discarded. Silvette instinctively relied on the most powerful person, expecting him to give her a direction, a goal.

"What should I do, Mr. Ralph?"

"You’re free now, Silvette."

"Free?"

Ralph took off his hat and placed it on the girl’s head.

"This land imprisons those five prisoners, who hold the keys but cannot leave their own cells."

"Where did these keys of power come from? And where did the power beneath this land come from?"

Silvette lifted the brim of the hat and looked at Ralph, puzzled.

"I don’t know, Mr. Ralph. I can’t solve riddles."

Ralph shook his head in disappointment. He spread his arms and made his final proclamation in the collapsing Degonris.

"I, the current controller of the buried power of Degonris, have decided to return this miraculous force to its rightful owner."

"Silvette!"

Brilliant spots of light erupted from Ralph, flowing like a torrent into the young girl.

"This is the last thing I need to do."

"To return the power that saved us to the original Warden of this prison, that foolish girl who had her power stolen by the prisoners."

"Silvette, Degonris is your cage, now, you are free."