Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1377 - 839: The End of the Story at First Sight of Frey_2
She grabbed the scythe and, taking advantage of Marquis Somerset's preparation to strike Antanas, unleashed her full power. The scythe in her hand shimmered with a cold light capable of severing mountains, slashing toward Marquis Somerset's back.
The razor-sharp blade streaked through the air with an aura of inevitability, wounding Marquis Somerset and causing him to stumble forward in shock and fury.
"Well done, Sinola."
Appearing at some unknown moment, on one side of the battlefield's edge, Pranay lightly raised his palm.
Black flames surged in the direction pointed to by Pranay. In the next instant, the Hall of Annihilation began to quake violently, and abyssal fire erupted from beneath the earth, spiraling into a vortex-like dragon tornado in the sky.
"You're still alive? Didn't I hit you hard enough?"
Marquis Somerset's figure was instantly engulfed by the raging black flames. His roar echoed from within the tornado as black smoke raged around him.
"Brother?!"
Sinola looked toward that figure.
She had initially thought Pranay had nearly died trying to protect her and Antanas from Marquis Somerset.
Sinola suddenly felt a bit angry.
This guy still had reserves after all.
Earlier, Pranay had been using Lord Skeleton's power, engaging Somerset with a clone as his "first life" while concealing his true form.
"It's great that you're okay."
Antanas, simultaneously emotional and exasperated, wiped away tears while enveloping herself and Sinola in a healing spell.
Just like Hyperion, who was skilled at concealment and retreat, Pranay had stealthily swapped his real form with a clone during the fight. His true self remained hidden in the shadows, waiting for an opportune moment, giving them the chance to temporarily contain Marquis Somerset and allowing Antanas and Sinola to focus on recovery.
Even so, they knew this fight was far from safe.
Marquis Somerset's aura was so overpowering it left Antanas trembling; if the blood-colored giant bear regained its will, the three of them would immediately face a mortal crisis.
...
Western temporary camp.
Abigail noticed the blood-colored giant eagle had lost control and immediately scrambled up to direct her mechanical assistant in repairing the barrier.
The base was heavily damaged. She needed to fix it as quickly as possible in order to reestablish communication with her allies and share visual intelligence with everyone.
"That was close, meow!"
The Cat Boss slinked out cautiously from Abigail's shadow.
Its spell could only protect Abigail a limited number of times; if the blood-colored giant eagle attacked a few more times, the temporary camp might truly be doomed.
Barton, now relieved from pressure, refocused on facing the Count of the Blood Clan.
Despite the injuries he had sustained earlier from the Blood Eagle, he now fought with uncanny ease, as though shrugging off the weight of arduous training while confronting the Blood Clan's Earl.
Within just a few minutes, Abigail and her mechanical assistant had completed preliminary repairs to the camp and activated the automated construction reinforcement by the Mechanical Corps.
"Alright, it's restored."
Abigail pressed the final button and, accompanied by the Cat Boss, ventured into the depths of the mechanical camp. At the workstation, she observed the light screen projected by the mechanical assistant.
Watching the broken and intermittent communication signal, a hint of surprise flickered in her eyes.
"Meow meow meow? Meow meow meow!"
The Cat Boss clung to Abigail's shoulder, understanding immediately what she was scrutinizing.
It was looking at the same thing.
What concerned them most was what had transpired on Hyperion's side during the moments of interrupted communication, causing the sudden halt of the blood-colored giant eagle.
Other than Hyperion's pupils still being amber-colored, she had essentially transformed into a youthful version of the Blasphemy Lord.
Simultaneously, she had become extraordinarily powerful.
"Are you two alright? Abigail, Cat Boss."
As communication was restored, Lanci's voice echoed once again in Abigail's and the Cat Boss's ears.
He remained engaged in battle against Rashal while reestablishing communication with the camp.
The earlier disruption in communication had made Lanci clearly anxious, but aside from holding off Rashal and preventing the Third Ancestor from advancing to other battlefields or triggering Obliteration Mode, there was little else he could do to help.
Now his sole task was to ensure that Rashal, the Blood Moon City's most formidable ninth-order entity, could not utilize their full power.
"We're fine. I'll share the real-time intelligence with your side."
Abigail spoke as she prioritized updating Lanci about the situation captured by the mechanical messenger on Hyperion's side.
The other battlefields hadn't shifted much versus the moments before communication was lost, but the most dramatic changes undeniably occurred on Hyperion's front and in the Hall of Annihilation battlefield.
"...I was wondering why the Cat Boss sang such a happy tune. Turns out Hyperion has transformed into such a courageous figure."
In his tone, Lanci carried genuine warmth and heartfelt admiration, as though speaking across the distance to Hyperion.
"Lanci, do you have any ideas?"
Taking stock of all the battlefields once more, Abigail, at a loss for solutions, could only turn to Lanci for advice.
Though the various fronts were tentatively stabilized, they had managed to pull back from the brink of collapse. For now, the greatest burden lay heavy on Hyperion.
This stop-gap measure—akin to drinking poisoned wine to quench thirst—meant the moment any single position faltered, total defeat would follow.
As of now, it seemed the first to reach breaking point might be Hyperion, who was pushing beyond limits to hold off the formidable Tenth Ancestor Ulysses.
While the other battlefields were slightly more stable compared to Hyperion, they were all at a serious disadvantage, with little chance of overwhelming the opposition—except Sigrid.