System's POV - Chapter 1169: The Rise Of the Destroyer [Part 2]

Chapter 1169: The Rise Of the Destroyer [Part 2]

Cristopher’s grip on his bastard sword tightened as Arundel’s laughter rumbled like thunder across the battlefield.

The Artemian General’s halberd pointed at them, its blade glowing with runic inscriptions that pulsed like a heartbeat.

His cold eyes shifted from the young Wanderer to the towering Majin Prince, his jaw tightening.

The General’s name was Grandall, and he was the strongest Archon among the Artemians who crossed over to Pangea.

“You’re too green, boy,” the General Grandall said. “Had you played your cards well, you might have killed me with a surprise attack with that Avatar of yours.”

Arundel snorted—being called an Avatar didn’t sit well with him.

After realizing that he was given a second chance at life as an Avatar, the Majin Prince vowed to get stronger and pay Zion Leventis for what the latter had done to him when he was still alive.

As if to make his displeasure known, the Majin Prince stomped his foot on the ground, sending cracks racing through the earth.

His aura of destruction expanded, forcing nearby soldiers—Artemians and Dragonkin alike—to stagger back, their knees buckling under the sheer pressure.

Cristopher raised his weapon and spoke in a steady voice. “Don’t falter, Princess. He won’t touch you.”

Princess Fiora blinked in disbelief.

The boy spoke as though he and his Avatar could defeat the Archon who had killed the Commander of the Dragonkin.

Yet when she glanced at Arundel again, her doubts wavered. That presence wasn’t something an ordinary summon could possess.

Roen clicked his tongue and barked, “General Grandall, focus on the Princess! I’ll cut down this brat myself!”

But the Artemian General didn’t move. His instincts screamed danger. The last time he ignored those instincts, an ally ended up in pieces.

Arundel cracked his neck and spun his flaming spear once, flames rippling across the air like a fiery tide. “Decide, Cristopher. Who should we kill first? That old fart or this annoying prick?”

“Let’s deal with the greatest threat first,” Cristopher answered. “You can leave the small fry to Princess Fiora.”

Both Princess Fiora and Roen almost coughed out blood.

The princess didn’t dare to call Roen a small fry. After all, in their exchange, she was the one being pushed back.

As for Roen, being called a small fry by someone weaker than him made him want to kill Cristopher more than ever!

“Die!” Roen roared as he lunged at the young man.

He knew that the moment a Wanderer dies, their Avatar would also disappear with them. Knowing that, the most logical choice was to ignore Arundel and focus on the weak Wanderer, hitting two birds with one stone.

Unfortunately, Princess Fiora wouldn’t allow her ally to die in front of her.

With renewed resolve, she used her shield to block Roen’s attack and counterattacked with her own sword.

Roen was forced to change his plan. Although he was stronger than the Majin Princess, that didn’t mean he could ignore her attacks with impunity.

General Grandall gave Roen a brief glance before he charged at Cristopher, his blade crying out for blood.

The ground trembled as Arundel lunged toward the General, his flaming spear wishing to turn its foe to ashes.

Steel met flame.

Four powerhouses clashed at the same time.

Each strike echoed across the battlefield, drawing the attention of warriors near and far.

From her battered stance, Princess Fiora clenched her shield tighter.

Her role was no longer to fight, but to survive long enough to witness whether this impossible duo could truly topple the powerful General.

And when she saw Cristopher and Arundel fighting side by side, her heart whispered a truth she didn’t want to admit.

A Wanderer, supposedly weaker than her, had come to protect her, making her feel something warm spread inside her chest.

But she quickly hid these emotions aside for the time being, for one mistake against a powerful foe would lead to her death.

Princess Fiora used everything in her arsenal to defend against her enemy, preventing Roen from getting closer to the young man who had risked his life to save her.

General Grandall’s halberd cleaved through the air with brutal force, shaking the ground with every swing. Arundel met each strike with his flaming spear, his monstrous strength forcing the seasoned Archon back a step with every clash.

The air between them rippled from the sheer intensity of their battle.

Cristopher didn’t waste the opening. He darted forward, his bastard sword glowing faintly as he aimed for the General’s flank.

Grandall snarled, twisting his weapon just in time to block Cristopher’s blade. Sparks showered the battlefield as the Archon redirected the boy’s strike with contemptuous strength.

He thought that since his opponent was only a Master, he would be able to overpower the young man and give him the killing blow.

To his surprise, Cristopher’s attack was as heavy as Arundel’s strike, delaying the killing blow he had intended to kill the Wanderer.

Naturally, Arundel didn’t miss that opportunity and stabbed his flaming spear at the General’s neck, the only place unprotected by his armor!

Using pure willpower and reflexes, General Grandall moved his head to the side, the Flaming Spear grazing the skin of his neck with its flames.

Just as he thought that he had managed to avoid the worst-case scenario, Cristopher spun with his sword poised to strike.

’Damn!’ General Grandall cursed, finding the young man’s attack impossible to block.

With no other alternative, he activated his life-saving artifact, allowing him to teleport a short distance away.

“You Artemians love to teleport, huh?” Arundel, who had missed the opportunity to follow up on Cristopher’s attack, sneered. “Running away in battle must be one of your race’s hobbies.”

The taunt clearly hit its mark, but General Grandall only glanced at the Wanderer and his Avatar with a solemn look on his face.

General Grandall touched the scorched flesh at his neck. His fingers came away stained with blood. The wound was shallow, but the fact that they had managed to draw his blood at all was an insult that clawed at his pride.

He slowly lowered his hand and tightened his grip on the halberd. “Impressive… for insects.” His eyes flicked between Cristopher and Arundel. “But it won’t happen again.”

Cristopher’s chest heaved from the strain, but he didn’t lower his sword.

Clearly, fighting with the strength of a Majin Prince was not something a Wanderer of a mere Master rank could achieve without consequences.

He had paid an equivalent exchange to gain Arundel’s strength, albeit temporarily, which was why Thirteen forbade him from summoning Arundel unless his life was truly in danger.

“Let’s hurry and end this kid,” Arundel said. “Time’s running out.”

Even Arundel understood that his Master couldn’t summon him indefinitely. Cristopher was too weak to summon a Majin Prince as an Avatar, and the longer the battle, the greater the compensation the young man would pay.

The Majin Prince’s aura swelled once more, flames flaring violently.

His spear burned brighter than ever, the heat distorting the air as if reality itself struggled to contain him.

’One attack, Cristopher,’ Arundel spoke through their connection. ’Make it count. If we fail to kill him, I will toss you away from this battlefield. After that, you will run away and hide until Zion deals with the rest.’

’Okay.’ Cristopher nodded. ’Let’s make sure he dies from this attack.’

The bastard sword in the young man’s hands was now covered with flames.

Arundel and Cristopher both took a step forward.

A second later, the two turned into blazing comets that flew toward General Grandall, leaving a trail of scorched earth in their wake.