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Bear School Astartes

Chapter 963 - 945: The Art of ’Feasting (Page 2/3)

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Dark Moon Magic turned the Magic Staff into a bow’s body, and stretched the bowstring, placing a splendid Moonlight Arrow which Gwendolin fired into the sky.

His teeth clenched in anger, for the Silver Knights turned into food, dead without dignity or meaning.

The mourning for these ancient warriors plus the disgrace upon the Divine Race birthed such fury.

A Moonlight Arrow launched skyward, under Dark Moon Magic’s effect, replicated into numerous arrows.

Just like a rain of blades flashing cold silver light, piercing all the way down!

Yet this magic poorly aligned with Elderidge’s nature.

Would that tar-like body care about stabbing wounds with small trauma areas?

Utterly ineffective.

Like cold raindrops, the arrow rain only exploded into tiny spurts of mud on Elderidge, and then there was no more movement.

And Elderidge, already surging, flowed towards Gwendolin.

The figure of the Dark Moon God disappeared in a hazy purple halo, then reappeared in another location.

This magic of shifting positions seemed to make him even more exhausted and powerless.

Moreover, having already expended a lot of strength before, Gwendolin couldn’t even shift himself very far.

One of his snake feet suddenly touched a slippery patch, which was the edge of Elderidge’s sprawling body.

Elderidge seemed to have sensory organs all over, and the moment he touched Gwendolin’s snake foot, the originally thin black mud received focused support.

Like flesh-eating ants crawling onto a piece of rotten meat, climbing up.

Gwendolin’s face suddenly turned pale, his silver teeth clenched tightly as the tip of his magic staff extended a blade formed by the cohesion of Dark Moon Magic Power.

With a ”slash,” he cut off the entire snake foot himself.

Taking this opportunity, the Giant Blacksmith realized he was the closest support to the Dark Moon God.

He roared, even the air at his mouth transformed into a tangible airwave from his shout.

Just as Elderidge was about to surge black mud waves towards Gwendolin, he planted his massive foot in front of Gwendolin, blocking the Dark Moon God.

But his own leg was quickly enveloped by the clinging black mire, which continued to climb upwards.

With no alternative, Gwendolin could only extend the magic blade on his staff again and slash towards the giant’s knee!

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”Ah!”

The giant did not cry out in agony, instead, it was Gwendolin who trembled, calling out.

Cutting off the leg of a subordinate who had just saved him... At this moment, both his body and spirit were on the brink of collapse.

Elderidge was increasingly pleased with the current situation.

He even retreated a little at this point.

The black mud once moving swiftly became unhurried.

’Yes, just like that, scream.’

The soul whispering from the black mud, just hearing it made one feel sticky and heavy, like the mind was coated with a layer of tar.

Elderidge’s tone was delighted and playful.

’Great Divine Race, the existence I once revered. Look at your stature now.’

’In this grand and glorious Divine Capital, to stand before me, the rebel, and defend you, are only three Silver Knights, and a slave?’

’The Divine Race has long declined, in worse shape than the bishop that reveres you!’

But amid the slow, leisurely movement of the black mud, he suddenly pierced a rapid tentacle, ensnaring the one-armed Silver Knight, pulling it into his body amidst the curling sound of metal.

The moment Gwendolin, the Broken-legged Giant, and the Silver Knight found a chance to adjust and rest due to his slow movement, they were forced to become tense again.

With erratic, nearly neurotic danger and aggressiveness, the ’food’ lost a sense of security, ultimately having their minds collapse.

This was Elderidge’s foolproof ’meal trick.’

Sure enough, Gwendolin in front of him, holding the magic staff, had hands trembling from too much force.

The crippled Silver Knight pulled into Elderidge’s body, in the last moment, still burst forth with golden lightning on the only hand holding a sword.

But in the end, the result remained unchanged, Elderidge wasn’t much harmed.

He instead spit out the Silver Knight’s sword, clattering across the marble floor to Gwendolin’s feet.

’The stories of the Divine Race, the sacred great thunder, the power of the King of the Sun defeating the Ancient Dragon... tsk tsk.’

The soul’s whisper, revealing a cruel malicious pleasure.

’But what use is this power to me, a Lord of Cinders who once sacrificed himself for the world and the First Flame?’

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