Translator: Translation Nation Editor: Translation Nation
Evidently, Little Lord Fokke understood that even such an attack definitely wasnt fatal to Sheyan.
Borrowing this chance, Little Lord Fokke picked up his own severed arm with a nonchalant demeanor. He didnt reattach his severed arm to his body, but instead lifted it up high above his helmet!
With an oppressive voice that resonated in ones thoracic cavity, he offered.
“Accept my tribute! O mighty host!”
Above Little Lord Fokkes helmet, an appalling hexagram styled magic array emerged in mid air; completely devouring his decapitated arm! Following that, a layer of hazy blood glow enveloped Little Lord Fokkes body as he sauntered towards Sheyan with large strides!
His eye sockets had shockingly transformed into ghastly ice swirls, seemingly desiring to insatiably devour anything his gaze could behold.
Sheyan glanced into Little Lord Fokkes eyes and suddenly felt as though his organs we reflexively churning up. Even his train of thought was stirring up and agitating his body with a threatening pressure.
His subconscious thought was reflecting this An arrogant and berserking taste of balefulness was being borne!
Within seconds, Sheyan felt as though he was submerged into a nightmare. His thoughts were totally incapable of controlling his bodily rhythm!
“Conceive! Satans will!” The icy cold voice of Little Lord Fokke rung in Sheyans ear.
This was a powerful spirit type dark magic of Little Lord Fokke Satans Descent. Utilizing the evil thoughts of the human heart as nourishment to excavate the sinister craziness of ones heart, thereby bringing upon internal condemnation and destruction!
Within an instant, Sheyans HP started plunging rapidly. At this moment, he quickly activated the party ability Gloryheal! Although his accursed state prevented him from using medicines, this regeneration ability could still be effective.
Watching Sheyan grinding his teeth as he persevered, Little Lord Fokke widened his mouth in a seemingly impossible manner, spanning his mouth open in a terrifying 270 degrees angle that surpassed the limitations of humans. It was a widened mouth that covered half his face!
Following that, countless grieving souls came pouring out ludicrously!
The atmosphere was filled with reckless screeches as those fanatical evil spirits flushed out.
However, after a fleeting moment of freedom, those grieving souls returned under Little Lord Fokkes manipulation again; forming into devils that wielded human bones, cow skeletons, goat horns, ghostly hammers and various demonic artifacts! They appeared like an ungodly array of terror, before drilling straight into Sheyans seven apertures.
The Satans Will attack was an unparalleled controlling ability of devastating persisting damages. The damage type incurred were all true damages! Regardless of ones defence or the resistance of the Aztec curse! Everything paled in frailness as compared to such an incomparably outrageous attack!
But at this very moment, a layer of formless red glow emerged from Sheyans chest; a glow resembling the boiling radiation of blood. A glow that appeared like a lofty plateau, as boundless as the earth! It forcibly suppressed down onto Sheyans body, and minimally obstructed away a third of those devils drilling towards Sheyan! Then like a cornerstone, it dispelled away a tiny portion of the black glows enshrouding Sheyan!
Indeed, this was Sheyans innate ability Stronghold!
In the face of true damages, this ability still obstinately and tenaciously came into effect! Not only was Stronghold able to forcefully absorb 40 points of all kinds of damages, it would also reduce the duration of all negative states by 25%!
Even true damages were now being slashed into grains by the halberd known as Stronghold!
Yet more crucially, with the constant regeneration of Gloryheal and the duration of Satans will being slashed by 25%, it became insufficient to condemn Sheyan to death!
Sheyan finally regained his freedom. Despite his HP already falling below 30% and despite his body being riddled in wounds, Little lord Fokke could intensely sensed the vigor of his opponent suddenly inflating like a volcanic eruption! It was analogous to the split second of rampaging frenzy that overcomes a wild beast, before a spear pierces into its head. It was as though any area those pair of blazing eyes glared at would experiencing a scorching agony.
Within a twinkling of an eye, Sheyan pulled out his black musket!
A flintlock musket that even the ocean tides would conform to…it now coldly aimed across!
Ambition!
“Penitence??! How could it show up here?”
As he stared into Ambitions black barrel, Little Lord Fokkes face revealed an indescribable expression. Moreover, he actually addressed this musket as Penitence!
His lips shivered as he attempted to reach out for the musket. Although Sheyan didnt know what was going on, he seized this glorious opportunity and pressed the trigger!
BOOM!! Little Lord Fokkes black helmet was struck flying backwards, after receiving a lead bullet infused with an astronomical kinetic force.
An ashen middle-aged male face was exposed with a head full of floating white hair.
At this instant, Kraken Pauls ink also smeared completely on Little Lord Fokkes body. Immediately, Little Lord Fokke issued a tormented countenance as he clutched his head, probably caused by the 2 second stun of Rum & Songs.
By now, Sheyan had already buried his head forward as he rushed in while hauling along his oceanic-blue glittering long saber. Raising his long saber as he leapt through the air, he summoned his full strength and thrusted towards the decapitated wound of Little Lord Fokkes shoulder!
Such was the ruthlessness of his thrust, that even the saber shaft of +7 West had deeply poked against the Little Lord Fokkes flesh. However, Sheyan felt as though he had stabbed his weapon deep into a boundless hollow!
After abruptly retracting his saber, pungent purplish black fluids spurted over his whole face.
Little Lord Fokke then released a mournful roar as he swiped his Symbolic sword towards Sheyans face. However, Sheyans fist once again smashed heftily against the wound stabbed by his long saber, his unstoppable might plummeting into the mangled wound!
Although his fist smashed into Little lord Fokkes body, he felt as though his hand was being devoured by the mouths of innumerable icy corpses. Within a split second, he lost feeling of his hand. Yet before that happened, his fist was already tightly clenched.
As it turns out, there was unexpectedly, a tiny bottle hidden within his fist!
An ordinary glass bottle.
Instead, the liquid contained in the glass bottle was absolutely special. It was holy water that Sheyan expended generously to acquire from a roman merchant. Holy water blessed by the pope of the Apostolic Palace!
When Sheyan had tightened his grip around the glass bottle, it instantly shattered; allowing the holy water to splash forth! Liquid filled with a rich holy essence poured into the depths of Little Lord Fokkes body. This scene practically could be described as dripping oil in a deep fryer.
The existence of pure radiance had actually appeared within the frailest nexus of sinister darkness. Instantaneously, an unprecedentedly violent reaction occurred, giving rise to a terrifying destructive force of unmatched proportions!
This was a force akin to primal chaos!
Feeling something was amiss, Sheyan immediately seized the impact of his face being cleaved by the Symbolic sword to leap backwards. Though that was so, his arm was ripped apart and remained lodged within Little lord Fokkes body.
Soon after, a monumental destructive force shredded Sheyans hand asunder into speckles of dust!
Not only so, after polar opposites of light and darkness converged, the astronomical primal chaos force resulted was like a vortex seeking to absorb his entire body in. If Sheyan hadnt leapt backwards, he would’ve definitely been caught off guard and suffer a horrendous fate!
In spite of that, that powerful suction force seemingly threatened to pull ones soul in.
Sheyan instantly sprawled onto the ground after leaping backwards, as his chin was scraped ruthlessly against the ground. His only remaining hand was now tightly gripping around a rock.
Fortunately, the volume of holy water was merely a tiny bottle, and the primal chaos force faded as quick as it came; vanishing with a short span of seconds.
Little Lord Fokke remained sluggish where he was, his expression lifelessly vacant; stoning for a long while like a mannequin. Eventually, his knees bent in a reverse mountain shape as he knelt onto the ground. Still, he remained unwilling to collapse, stabbing his Symbolic sword into the ground to support his body!
With the abstruse darkness of his decapitated shoulder, large clumps of cyan fumes were spiralling out.
Those cyan fumes formed into human faces, faces that were evidently peaceful and calm; as though they were meditatively praying. Then, the faces rapidly drifted towards the skies above.
When those cyan fumes eventually depleted, sparkles begun wafting out from within. Those sparkles were cold and indistinct, and finally hovered before Little Lord Fokkes face; morphing into the projection of his most beloved Sally.
This was the only humanly affection that Little Lord Fokke had not forsaken. This was his only weakness where his defeat stemmed from!
At present, Little Lord Fokke had recovered his human form. He now appeared like a forty or so year old british lord, except for his haggard, decadent and pale face. There was a sliver of anxiousness in his face as he powerlessly leaned his face towards the pure, mother Mary-like Sally projection. Then, he reached out both hands and offered with an exhausted and weak voice.
“Sally.I see, only darknessbefore me…”*
Amidst the turbulent sea, the bright moonlight cascaded down onto this towering cliff.
This moment had seemingly froze and turned fuzzy.
The only clarity remained the outline of a kneeling man clad in knightly armour.
Even though darkness remained discharging out from this man, this scene would be profoundly engraved into the strokes of writings for years to come!
[ Great Ocean era. Year 243, June, 2 am in the wee hours of the morning ]
[ Present successor of the Fokke family, Caterly Fokke, dies. ]
[ Age: 48 years old ]
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(TL:*Author asked chinese readers to guess where this line came from. Let me give you guys the answer though, it was the final words that Arthas (or the lich king) offered before he died. Basically, his inspiration for Little Lord Fokke was Arthas of the World of Warcraft)
TL:
Since some of you were complaining about the teaser, so I figured I’ll just post Friday’s chapter now as well to spare you guys from the cliff. Then again, there’s always a higher cliff on the other side. The next chapter will be out 3 days later.
Please bare with the following blank chapter, this is due to some technical mistake i made with the system that I can’t undo.