Overgeared

Chapter 1981

‘How do we kill him?’

Faker was reminded of the strength of the cultivators now that he was watching Braham fight one of them. They used offensive skills, as well as defensive ones. Unlike normal defensive skills, the shields of the cultivators allowed them to move and act with no restrictions. One could almost say those shields resembled a dragon’s Absolute Defense, though that was a bit of an exaggeration.

Even though they had shields deployed, the cultivators were able to move and attack freely. A cultivator wasn’t restricted by anything when their shield was up. The shield also counterattacked while defending against enemy attacks, making the fight rather one-sided. Of course, doing this required a lot of spiritual energy.

Faker had learned a voice-based technique from a Full Moon Fortress destroyed four days earlier and succeeded in condensing a spiritual root. He understood how these shields worked. He was certain that no cultivator could keep them up forever.

However, the white-haired cultivator currently fighting Braham was an Absolute. Surely, he possessed an unimaginable amount of spiritual energy. It wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to keep activating his shields throughout the battle.

In fact, the white-haired man had had his protective shield activated ever since Braham hit him in the forehead with the staff. Since the power of a cultivator’s shield was proportional to their realm level, the shield was able to withstand even the barrage of Disintegrate.

“You can’t use Quasar anymore?”

[Not for two more days. To activate Quasar, it takes a lot of time to modify the structure of the mana core. It’s impossible to use Memorize on it and the side effects are quite considerable.]

Considering how strong of an ability Quasar was, the two days cooldown time was relatively short. Though it was a shame, considering the situation they were in.

Braham’s Mana Shield flickered. The vivid blue magic faded and became dark. It couldn’t withstand the power of the techniques flying non-stop from the white-haired, dark-skinned man.

The man handled too many attributes. He could freeze the target, pour hot water on them, burn them, create a storm to damage them, stun them, crush them by applying substantial pressure, and so on.

Colorful techniques exploded against Braham’s shield, systematically weakening it, to the point where Braham needed to respond by changing the attributes of the shield accordingly. In other words, it was a high-speed battle that an average person couldn’t keep up with, because Braham changed the attribute of his shield every 0.1 seconds.

Faker was a Transcendent who could win a battle with his high insight and quick decision-making, but he couldn’t really keep up with what was occurring in a battle between Absolutes, since everything was happening too fast for him to see.

The battle between the Absolutes, who deployed spells and techniques, or activated artifacts and orbs, was on a different level.

The battlefield that Braham had restored was being devastated again. Braham’s spells and the white-haired man’s techniques repeatedly changed nature and caused disasters, such as the grassland becoming a snowy field before being swept away by a tsunami, or an active volcano suddenly rising before turning into ashes and disappearing.

After a few more exchanges, Braham glanced at Faker.

[Join the resurrected personnel and move to the next Full Moon Fortress.]

“Right.”

Faker was cool-headed. He wasn’t a talkative person, so he immediately turned around. But the gray-haired man mocked him as he was about to leave.

“Give up any hope that you will survive. This battle will be over soon anyway. You are destined to die. It will only be a hassle for both of you if you keep dragging this out unnecessarily.”

Faker couldn’t move. It was as if he was nailed to the air. Maybe some technique was at work. Braham noticed this and cast the Cure spell.

Faker, now freed from the influence of the formation, turned into a shadow and left. The white-haired man glared at the spot where Faker had just been.

“So, he’s the type of person who easily abandons his master. I’m familiar with people like him.”

[Didn’t you understand the context of our conversation? You are quite incompetent. Maybe if you evolved, you’d finally be as intelligent as a monkey.]

“Haha, there is no point in having a conversation with someone as clueless as you.”

The white-haired man dismissed the whole situation.

There was a way to win this fight. The bizarre person in front of him, regardless of whether he was a warrior or a magician, was an experienced fighter. However, this meant nothing to the white-haired man.

The last time the man hadn’t been able to confront a group of experienced fighters was tens of thousands of years ago in the lower world.

At that time, the man’s cultivation was only at the core formation realm. Now, he had reached the end of his cultivation—the peak of great ascension. It was the highest realm that human beings could reach. In other words, he could become an immortal at any time. He’d only stayed in the human world and continued to practice the Ten Thousand Wheels One Thousand Wings Technique to become even stronger than he already was.

He had changed tremendously over the years. Compared to the man he used to be tens of thousands of years ago, he was unrecognizable now. There was nothing in this world for him to fear.

Whoosh!

He activated the Ten Thousand Wheels One Thousand Wings Technique.

The moment the man’s spiritual root exerted the power of this technique, he absorbed all the heaven and earth origin energy in the area. Braham’s ever-present Mana Drain was on the verge of failing. He lost control of his mana and his eyes widened as he saw thousands of techniques and treasures flying toward him.

Dozens of layers of Mana Shields broke one after another as the attacks slammed into them without pause. Braham was covered in wounds. There was a huge hole in his chest and his limbs were either broken or severed. He was on the verge of death.

Meanwhile, the white-haired man was fine. He’d been blocking Braham’s counter spells with shields and defensive orbs. He swung a knife large enough to cut off a bull’s head. He decapitated Braham and blood spilled out like from a fountain.

“Ten Thousand Wheels One Thousand Wings Technique...”

The man grabbed Braham’s body to keep it from falling. He searched through the ragged clothes until he found a technique book. He stained his hands and arms with filthy blood by doing this, but he still took it. He could use a technique to clean himself later.

“Um...?”

The man was in the middle of taking out unfamiliar objects from Braham’s pockets and investigating them one by one when he cocked his head. He realized that he couldn’t really feel his fingertips that well anymore. The man’s face slowly turned pale as he raised his hands, confused.

Wriggle.

The blood covering Braham’s body was moving like a living worm. The color gradually faded like it was seeping into the man’s body.

“A blood technique?”

Sometimes, cultivators made offerings using their own blood or the blood of others. What the cultivators had in common was that their blood, not the soul, was their source of life.

The man had a bad feeling and hurriedly shoved away the corpse he was holding, but it was too late. Braham’s blood had already made its way into the man’s body. It flowed backward and took over the man’s veins, reaching his heart before he knew it.

The man’s waist bent like he was bowing. He coughed, and blood spilled from his seven orifices. He was experiencing pain on a level he didn’t even imagine was possible.

Of course he’d be in pain. The life force of a great ascension cultivator was great, but he couldn’t survive losing too much blood.

“K-Kuoock...!”

The man was in great distress and his heart was hammering in his chest, beating at a rate of more than a thousand times per second, and that rate was becoming even faster.

“W-What is this...? Such a wicked technique exists...?”

Because he was from an insignificant lower world and had become the best cultivator of the middle world, after tens of thousands of years of combat, the white-haired man’s pride was greater than that of an ordinary cultivator.

Around ten thousand years ago, he stopped considering that he could ever be in danger of dying. Even so, he was cautious and was mindful of wild cards and unexpected situations that might occur in the upper world. This was why he had been obsessed with achieving perfection in the Ten Thousand Wheels One Thousand Wings Technique, but...

That cautiousness held him back, and now he was having this dilemma. He didn’t know if he would be able to survive anymore.

The man started to resent his past self for not ascending to the upper world earlier. He was experiencing a lot of pain, and he was in danger.

“The strength of your blood... To train it this much... How many humans did you use for your blood sacrifice...?”

His heart was on the verge of exploding. He couldn’t even control his spiritual root anymore.

There was only one way for him to get out of this. He had to let his nascent soul escape. Giving up on this body would cost him tens of thousands of years of cultivation, but it was a million times better than dying.

[You are speaking nonsense again.]

An irritating thought was engraved into the space. Braham appeared before the white-haired man’s eyes, and he was in a much better state. Blood rose like vines from his severed neck, tangling until it morphed into healthy body parts and limbs...

The white-haired man was horrified. The blood that was regenerating Braham was the same that was currently pouring out of the cultivator.

Braham was absorbing all the blood that he forcibly took from the heart that was beating at over a thousand times per second.

[How dare you try to understand me given your knowledge as a cultivator? That’s impossible to do, and it feels unpleasant.]

“You blood demon...”

The white-haired man’s mind went blank with rage. He didn’t want to allow Braham to live by using his blood. He wondered if there was even a reason to live after giving up tens of thousands of years of cultivation.

After dedicating his entire life to cultivation, did he really have to give it all up just because he was desperate to survive?

Absolutely not.

He wanted to at least anger his enemy, who was smiling arrogantly at him. But the cultivator felt hopeless. He just wanted to preserve his dignity, which he’d maintained for all his life...

The white-haired man became determined and his spiritual root vibrated like crazy, faster than even his heart, which could explode any minute now. This distorted the heaven and earth origin energy around him.

He was aiming to take down Braham with him.

He used his last remaining strength to take control of the area and managed to smile. He expected Braham to look surprised and frightened. This enemy, who made the cultivator feel like his whole world had fallen into an abyss of despair...

The man thought that taking Braham with him to the underworld was an acceptable gift.

However—

“......?”

There was no change in Braham’s expression. He still looked arrogant, and he didn’t seem to panic at all.

Just then, the man’s spiritual root reached its limit and exploded. A massive blast engulfed everything around him, bathing the world in light.

Despite the explosions, some indigo barriers retained their shape. They were the only things that resisted without being swallowed up by the light.

Multiple Weakening Barriers. Braham recreated the strongest defensive skill that Grid had gotten from Judar. The research carried out with the help of Grid had been very rewarding. The skill was still imperfect, but he was able to bring out around 50% of its power thanks to just becoming an Absolute.

“This guy...!”

The white-haired man scowled as he turned to ashes and disappeared. The indigo curtain stood alone in the area where not a single blade of grass was left. It soon shattered and scattered in the air.

Braham was pale as he stepped out of it. From an outside perspective, he seemed relatively unharmed, but his internal injuries were serious. Every organ in his body had been torn to shreds. It was hard to move his blood, let alone his mana.

However, Braham didn’t have time to catch his breath. He struggled to collect the loot left behind by the dead cultivator and immediately tracked down Faker.

Stronger enemies kept emerging. He had to work hard to take the pressure off Grid...