Chapter 390: I Told You I Wouldn't Let You Die (Conclusion)

  Pain. A pain that pierced his heart, his lungs, his very bones. This pain was like a red-hot needle, stringing together the pain that had already covered his entire body and thrusting it into his mind, into that crack.

  The thing that had originally been stirring, leaping, struggling desperately to drill into the emptiness from that crack was directly detonated by this stab. It was as if beneath it lay millions of tons of scorching explosives, which had already been compressed and heated past their critical point, and were now completely detonated by this single action.

  The consciousness of the void was shattered into pieces. What erupted from below was life, was power, was instinct. It broke through the void and consciousness, bursting directly from his body with a scream, then head-butted Roland, sending him flying... This reaction was no longer that of the Lich King, but of Ethan.

  At the same time, fresh red blood gushed wildly from the already cracked wounds all over his body. He looked like a water bag, filled to the brim with blood, that had been pierced with countless holes. In an instant, blood flowed all over him.

  Pain. An immense, immense pain tormented and crushed his senses like madness. The power that had been supporting his body and consciousness receded. Only now could Ethan feel just how severely damaged his body was.

  He had certainly not suffered few injuries, and none of them were light. There had been many times when he was almost dead. But compared to the injuries on his body now, those could hardly be called injuries. Every single part of him, from his muscles and skin to the tiniest blood vessels and nerves, was shattered. The fierce head-butt against Roland just now had caused the skin on his forehead to peel back completely. At least three muscles in his neck had burst into bloody fragments from the congestion. Even he himself wondered how he hadn't just split apart with a squelch and turned into a pile of mincemeat.

  In this consciousness, completely filled with pain, he suddenly had a vague thought: Why don't I just let go of the hilt in my hand? It seemed that all of this was because of this hilt. Following this thought, his gaze fell upon The Black Star's hilt in his left hand.

  He wanted to let go, but he couldn't. It wasn't just that the hilt and his palm seemed to have fused and become one. The moment he had the thought to let go, countless other tangled thoughts immediately rose to obstruct him. In the sea of his consciousness, he seemed to see three black figures entangled with each other, echoing the sensation coming from the hilt.

  The fresh blood gushing from his body flowed down his arm towards the hilt. But not a single drop could flow onto the hilt. The cold, black hilt was like a red-hot branding iron. The blood sizzled and evaporated the moment it touched it.

  Crack. A faint cracking sound came from the hilt. Although there was no attack, the cracks on the hilt were continuously widening and growing.

  The light of a white sword energy came tearing through the air. Lancelot's Holy Light Cross Sword had finally arrived, but he did not strike at Ethan's body. He struck at the hilt in his left hand.

  Because Roland, flying backward, had blocked him. His strike was not just a beat too slow, but it was precisely because of this that he saw the change in Ethan. Perhaps, because he was certain that Ethan was now awake, or perhaps because he saw the signs of the hilt beginning to crack, his attack was aimed at the hilt.

  Destroying the hilt would indeed be more effective, more able to solve the problem than killing Ethan. The hilt did look like it was on the verge of shattering. Just the slightest external force could make it shatter into countless fragments with a ping. Lancelot's choice was not wrong.

  As expected, the moment the light of the Holy Light Cross Sword struck the hilt, an even greater cracking sound immediately burst from it. One could see the cracks on it suddenly deepen and grow. It seemed it would be completely shattered in an instant. But at the same time, Lancelot's white sword light dissipated completely. Because a black sword had passed through his side, piercing his lungs and chest, and finally piercing into his right hand, where all his sword energy was condensed. His sword energy, his life, his right hand, instantly disintegrated, vanishing into the void without even leaving ash behind.

  Unwilling. This was Lancelot's final, lingering thought. Just a little more force, just one-hundredth of a second more for him and the Holy Light Cross Sword, and he could have truly shattered the hilt. But unfortunately, what had pierced him was The Black Star.

  Collapse, disperse. Lancelot vanished into the air ten times faster than Vedenina, shattering into nothingness. He could only use all his remaining strength to turn his head and give a bitter smile towards Talise, who was running towards him.

  This smile no longer had the slightest bit of a Paladin's might or holiness. It contained bitterness, but more of it was a gentle, loving kindness. It was the smile of a father, releasing all his hidden emotions in his final moments.

  "Dad..." Talise screamed, tears streaming down her face as she ran. But in the next second, even that smile had completely vanished into the void.

  Behind them, Moriel in mid-air fell heavily to the ground. There was a hole in her chest that was spreading outwards. The body of a Holy Crystal Dragon was just as fragile before The Black Star. She struggled to turn her head and looked at Roland, difficultly uttering her last few words: "Fools, I told you to kill that kid, not to attack The Black Star..."

  Moriel's body also soon vanished completely. Only a small piece of crystal fell from where her head had disappeared.

  Lancelot had not left a single thing behind. His form had completely dissipated. The black sword body was revealed. It seemed to have a life of its own, tumbling in the air, then aiming for the hilt in Ethan's hand to rejoin it.

  Before it had fully connected, the boundless aura emanating from the sword body had already spread to the hilt. The countless cracks on the hilt began to heal under this aura. Ethan's gaze once again reverted to a stretch of void. The wildly surging aura once again merged with that black consciousness in his mind. All the power, all the life that had just emerged, was once again submerged beneath the endless, dark emptiness.

  The sky was changing, becoming a stretch of endless black, endless emptiness, endless endlessness. The ground was also changing, becoming one with the sky, just as empty, just as void. Talise, and Roland, who had just climbed to his feet, only felt as if they were standing in the cosmic void above the nine heavens.

  This was the complete The Black Star, the power of the complete Lich King.

  BOOM. The ground beneath his feet shattered. Magma erupted and shot into the sky. Gru took his final step and had finally arrived, arriving with the only dazzling green-white Battle Qi light in this dark emptiness. Sand and stone flew. Talise and Roland were both knocked away by the wind and currents stirred up by Gru.

  He still did not strike at Ethan. Instead, he grabbed Ethan's left hand, which held the hilt. And his other hand actually reached for the sword body that was slowly merging with the hilt.

  "Kid, wake up!" A roar seemed as if it would shatter the entire dark void. All the light converged on Gru's two hands. He was actually gripping The Black Star. He wanted to rely on his own strength to forcibly pull the sword body away.

  Ethan stood like a puppet, not moving. He let Gru's roar sound in his ears, let Gru grip his hand. The hand that held the sword was slowly turning into obsidian. The same obsidian as The Black Star. A faint black aura began to circle his body.

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  There was no longer any power that could stop it. In his empty consciousness, Ethan could clearly see Gru's futile efforts.

  It had reached this point. No one, no power, could stop any of this anymore. The sword body was still slowly merging. After all, this was not a power that could be opposed by human strength. The black aura and the white light were madly fighting and colliding with each other. But this black aura was no longer the same as when there was only the hilt. Now, this was the complete The Black Star.

  Crack. The white light split open. Gru's hands also split open. Even the most invincible, most powerful pair of hands in the world could finally not withstand the power of this dark emptiness.

  Despair. Talise felt a sharp, sour, and powerless feeling surge from the depths of her heart, slicing all the strength and hope in her body in two, causing them to vanish without a trace. They were not far from here, but they stopped in their tracks. This was the most profound despair.

  Suddenly, a sword energy stabbed from the side into Ethan's chest. Although it was no longer majestic or mighty, it was as sharp and fierce as the scream of a dying, ferocious beast.

  The one who struck was Roland. Only he could make a move at this moment. His originally elegant and handsome face was almost completely mangled. The bones of his face were deformed, and even one of his eyeballs had fallen out. He looked as terrifying as a zombie. The remaining eye was completely bloodshot, filled with the bloodshot lines born from the torment of pain, despair, and final will to fight.

  This was the last chance. He had already gathered all his strength to bet on this final chance. The Black Star had not yet fully merged. Ethan's hand had changed, but his head and body were still covered in blood and wounds. He would take this opportunity to shatter Ethan's head into a sky full of fragments with this one strike. This was a strike where he had burned his own life as fuel for its destructive power.

  With a muffled groan, Gru finally stumbled back. The white Battle Qi on his hands had already faded to the point of being almost invisible. Fresh blood gushed out. At the same time, with a squelch, the palm-sword, with its palm as the edge, smoothly pierced into flesh, breaking through. Blood, like a sudden downpour, sprayed onto Ethan's body.

  This was not his own blood. It was Sophia's. Just as Roland's strike was unleashed, Sophia, who was between them, suddenly ran out and blocked his path. Roland's strike then opened a large hole in her, from her back to her chest. The remaining momentum was not yet exhausted, and it pushed her all the way to Ethan's front. Roland's palm, covered in Sophia's blood, struck Ethan's chest.

  Roland looked in disbelief at Sophia impaled on his arm. This was absolutely not something that she, with her rational and intelligent mind, should have done. Even he was a little surprised. Rationally, she knew she absolutely should not have blocked this. And even if she had, it would have been useless. But when she saw Roland's final strike heading for Ethan, covered in wounds and blood, standing there like a puppet, her reason didn't even have time to form before she had already jumped out.

  No matter how rational a woman is, she is still a woman. This is a woman's tragedy, and also her greatness.

  "Please, wake up... I'm begging you, please wake up..." Through the large hole in her chest, Roland behind her could be clearly seen. She struggled to raise her blood-covered hand, cupping Ethan's wooden face. She gazed at him, foolishly and immeasurably sad. Tears and the blood on her face mixed together as they flowed down.

  The blood splashed into Ethan's empty eyes, turning that emptiness into a stretch of blood-red. In the center of this blood-red void, there was only Sophia's tear-streaked face, two wounds deep enough to show bone, a face covered in blood and grime. But what was reflected was a clarity as cold as ice, desolate, without support, without hope.

  Her voice gradually weakened. Her tear-filled, dry eyes could no longer hold on. They slowly closed, but it seemed she was reluctant to do so. She used all her strength to take one more look at Ethan. Her hand was still cupping his face. She was muttering, "Please wake up... I'm begging you..."

  Finally, her eyes could no longer hold on and closed. But one last line of tears flowed out from within them. The hand that cupped Ethan's face finally fell.

  Suddenly, Ethan's face twitched. Something seemed to ignite within those originally empty eyes.

  Heat. Scorching heat. The blood that splashed on him, mixing with his own almost-dry blood, made him feel as if he were about to burn. Even the emptiness in his consciousness turned this searing red, a red so hot it was about to burn.

  It was not just a scorching heat from the outside in. More of it was a burning, painful heat that arose from behind the emptiness, from the depths, from the void itself.

  Whoosh. Blood-red flames erupted from his body. Sophia's blood and his blood merged together. It truly began to burn on his body, which was surrounded by the black aura. The burning black aura went mad, circling and churning around him. Sophia's body was enveloped within it and disappeared without a sound.

  The blood-red fire was so vibrant, so bright. Only the burning of life could have such a color. Heat, scorching heat. This heat, this scorching, had burned his entire soul a bright red. The void that could annihilate everything was also gradually softening. From behind, a sharp, sour, piercing pain was about to break through.

  "Ahhh..." An incomparably shrill scream erupted from Ethan's mouth. The blood-red fire and the ethereal blackness rolled madly around him.

  Roland also vanished into this red-black torrent. His palm had indeed struck Ethan's chest, but it was limited to just striking. That body, which had seemed to be on the verge of shattering at any moment, was now unimaginably hard. The sword energy that could split mountains and shatter rocks could not even break his skin. Not only could it not break through, it was impossible to even pull back, as if it had suddenly grown onto him. With just one surge of the red-black torrent, he didn't even have time to scream before he was completely annihilated and vanished.

  Ethan's scream was gradually transforming from shrill back to emptiness, then it stopped. The black aura spread into his eyes, slowly wearing away the blood-red, bit by bit. The sword body of The Black Star had almost completely merged with the hilt. Only the fine cracks on it were shrinking from large to small. When these cracks completely disappeared, that would be when the complete Lich King appeared.

  The red fire and the black emptiness burned, entangled even more fiercely and violently. Ethan's form was no longer visible.

  Talise was completely frozen, only tears continuously flowing down her face. She couldn't even get close. She could only watch all this in despair. It seemed there was no other way. The next moment would either be Ethan being torn to pieces by this intense, red-black struggle, or him becoming the truly complete Lich King.

  There was one other person. There was one other person watching all this, but he absolutely would not, and absolutely could not, just watch. No matter how severe his injuries, no matter how hopeless the situation, it could not make him just watch.

  Gru's hands could hardly be called hands anymore. This pair, originally the most perfect work of art created by the heavens to express the meaning of power and life, was now just a blur of flesh and internal bone. But his expression showed not the slightest hint of dejection, not the slightest trace of frustration or failure. Fierce, resolute, violent, brave... all the concepts representing these meanings, strengthened a hundred times, could not describe one-hundredth of his imposing manner.

  The strongest person, the strongest point, is always the spirit and will, or the soul. He leaped and forcibly charged into the red-black torrent around Ethan.

  The light of his Battle Qi had vanished. He relied on his body alone to squeeze, to collide, to charge within. Piece by piece, his body was being dissolved by the red flames and the black aura. He finally charged in front of Ethan and raised his fist.

  The shape formed by his completely shattered hand was no longer the indestructible, strongest weapon in the world. There was no more dazzling Battle Qi. There was only a sky full of splattered blood. But the punch he threw was still so resolute, so magnificent, only because it was his fist.

  "WAKE UP! YOU BASTARD!"

  The red and the black shattered together. This punch struck Ethan's face.

  With a crack, Gru's fist shattered.

  This strongest weapon, this ultimate manifestation of power, was finally, completely shattered.

  Crack. Ethan's head tilted to the side. It wasn't just Gru's fist that shattered. He could clearly hear that something in his own brain, in his heart, in his soul, had shattered. It was shattered by this punch.

  The blood and flesh that splattered from the fist once again covered Ethan's entire body. The red fire suddenly blazed even brighter, as if this wasn't blood, but oil. The fire was not just red anymore; it also had the dazzling, golden brilliance of the sun.

  In this instant, even the aura of The Black Star was masked by this fire. This fire was not just burning his flesh; it was also burning into his body, drilling inside. Even in Ethan's eyes was this dazzling, sun-like flame. Not the slightest trace of black aura remained.

  "You bastard..."

  This was cried out by Ethan. This was no longer a struggling, chaotic scream, not a meaningless cry of pain, and not the hollow voice of the Lich King. This was completely, entirely his own voice. He was truly awake. Gru's punch, the flame ignited by the blood of the three of them mixed together, had finally shattered all the darkness in his consciousness, all the chaotic memories in his soul.

  Although it was a curse, there was not the slightest bit of anger in this voice. It was all sorrow, all pain. There was no room for any other emotion.

  He had seen and remembered everything that had just happened. The pain of this awakening was so great that it even overshadowed the agony of his shattered body, almost crushing his spirit completely.

  But he knew he could not fall. He raised the blade in his right hand and chopped down at his own left hand, which had become one with The Black Star.

  He had no strength left. The power of The Black Star had receded. There was not the slightest bit of strength left in his shattered body. Just raising this hand caused muscles to crack and fall away. He used this grief, this sorrow, used the image of Sophia blocking him, used the feeling her hands left on his face, used the blood that flowed and mixed on his body, used Lancelot, used Roland, used the sacrifice of the tens of thousands of warriors who had escorted him here, used everything in his life, and chopped down.

  The blade shattered. This blade, forged for him by his own father, which had accompanied him through countless battles, shattered on the black arm like a piece of paper.

  The Ring of Kings, which he had always worn on his hand and which should have been useless after its power was expended, also shattered. It seemed a white light flashed and sank into that arm.

  Clang. His petrified arm shattered. It shattered completely into small pieces, falling from his body.

  The Black Star also fell along with it. The hilt, which had become one with his arm, also shattered along with the arm.

  It was like opening the lid of a dark hell. From the shattered hilt, a boundless, endless blackness surged out. There was no sound, but it was about to cover and devour everything.

  "Why didn't you just kill me from the beginning? You should have been able to." Ethan looked at Gru with difficulty and asked with a bitter smile. Tears streamed from his eyes, mixing with the blood.

  "I told you a long time ago. As long as I'm not dead, I won't let you die." Gru looked at Ethan and said flatly. Although his tone was still as calm, composed, and confident as ever, his voice was weakening. There was not a single intact part of his body.

  Only now could Talise run over. She hugged Ethan, unable to say a word, just desperately casting healing white magic, her tears flowing like a spring.

  "Fool. I told you not to come." Ethan tried to raise his hand to stroke her head, but he could no longer lift it. His tears also wouldn't stop. He smiled bitterly. "To think it would end like this. Should we say we were victorious, or defeated?"

  The black aura was still continuously spraying out. Ethan turned his head to look at the aura that seemed to have opened the lid of hell and said weakly, "But none of that matters anymore. The result is the same. The hilt of The Black Star is shattered. The aura inside has all surged out. Even if you don't let me die, we have to die now."

  As if in response to his words, the black aura grew larger, more violent. It was no longer spraying, but exploding.

  To annihilate all, to devour all. This was the most primal power of The Black Star. And now, they no longer had the strength to resist it.

  Blackness. Everything was engulfed by the blackness, concealed. The heavens and the earth along with it.