Chapter 158: This, Not Needed Anymore
The support arriving from all directions infuriated the Goddess of Rot, yet it could not stop the silver-haired girl before it from raising the Unalloyed Gold Needle.
The surrounding reinforcements were close at hand, their wills united like a fortress.
"This really has the feel of an adventuring party."
Frieren pierced the Unalloyed Gold Needle into her heart, and the eroding power swiftly receded. For an ordinary person, it would at best suppress the spread. However, this body's resistance was considerably strong, and it possessed no shortage of dispelling methods, so the effect was even greater: eradication.
The Scarlet Rot that had originally infiltrated her was one hundred percent expelled, not a trace remaining.
The restless Blood of the Ancient God Atta and the First Flame Dark Soul within her finally fell silent. Sorry to disappoint you all, I won't be going mad anytime soon.
Clang!
Drawing the Ringed Knight Sword, a parry forced O'Neil back, and she in the same motion pulled out the spear impaling her body.
Before she could even use her own healing, she was bathed in the radiance of the Erdtree. The wound quickly stopped bleeding and began to heal. Moreover, a familiar aura emanated from it; Melina was providing full support.
Frieren felt even more replete with power, her condition perfect.
Now, with the Unalloyed Gold Needle in her possession, she feared no Scarlet Rot. The injuries sustained earlier were all healed—truly perfect.
In contrast, this wisp of the Outer God's will, its oil nearly spent, found it difficult to hold on, swaying precariously before her immense pressure.
She seized the scarlet aura.
Beside her, O'Neil attempted to intervene but was forced back by Moonveil's weapon skill, unable to close the distance at all, watching helplessly as the power of a dignified deity was absorbed in reverse.
"Wait, what are you doing? Are you trying to purify the Swamp of Aeonia?"
"Yes."
With the Unalloyed Gold Needle isolating the power of rot, what would happen if she actively absorbed it? It would be incinerated by the controllable First Flame, with no chance of harming Frieren's true self. And now, she had an excellent tool: the Flower of Aeonia.
The next moment, she squeezed the giant scarlet flower, and a large amount of rot energy was channeled into it, serving as a temporary storage medium. The erosive power decreased sharply.
After this round of purification, the polluting force was greatly diminished.
Simultaneously, the reinforcements arrived before them. The group had surrounded the Goddess of Rot and the few remaining puppets.
Successfully rendezvoused.
However, they had no time to exchange words, because a hysterical enemy was even harder to deal with.
The scarlet cloud representing the deity completely merged with O'Neil. With a wave of his banner, hundreds more walking corpses rose, though their imposing presence was less than before.
"Numbers are meaningless before Her Majesty when she's at full strength."
Edgar finished speaking and looked at the silver-haired girl.
Frieren: "..."
"Foolish mortals! All her mana was used to transfer my Scarlet Rot to the flower for sealing! How can she use magic? Although this feels terrible, it's a good chance to kill you!"
"I only dared to take such a risk because you all are here. I'm counting on everyone. I want to purify the Swamp of Aeonia in one go while I'm at it."
The silver-haired girl held the Ringed Knight Straight Sword in one hand and the Grafted Blade Greatsword in the other—an unprecedented, purely melee stance.
"Your Majesty, the entire Southern Army awaits your command at any time!"
"Since that's the case, the Redmane Army will certainly give its full support!" Freyja was the first to declare her stance.
The others, like Blaidd and Alexander, needed no prompting. Everyone was already here, supporting her out of admiration for the New Lord of Souls' spirit and disregard for personal danger, let alone other considerations. Rather, they were thrilled to have the chance to participate in a battle that would be famed for ages.
Melina said regretfully, "I'm sorry I held you back earlier, but I successfully cast my incantation. I should be able to help somewhat."
"It's alright. You've always been the one who has helped me the most."
Those who had witnessed Frieren pray to the Erdtree confirmed their suspicions: there truly was an unseen spirit maiden who had shared Her Majesty's joys and sorrows.
Tap!
Suddenly, she pulled the Unalloyed Gold Needle from her body again.
"This... is no longer needed."
This continuous series of astonishing actions shocked both sides. Her own side almost thought the New Lord of Souls had gone mad, while the Goddess of Rot discovered the target's resistance had climbed significantly. Could it be that in such a short time, the needle's power had been fully utilized?
Frieren threw it behind her. The red-haired maiden caught it firmly, reinserted it, and picked up a sharp sword.
"So, the one who saved my life is such a great figure. May I join the crusade?"
"Among everyone present, only you and I have the highest rot resistance. Come, Millicent. Today, we settle this with swordsmanship."
"Alright."
The Goddess of Rot, controlling O'Neil's body, took a deep look at the two swordswomen standing before it.
What a twisted fate. One was a demigod sorcerer, a purifier of rot unseen in a millennium; the other was a counterpart to Malenia, bearer of the Law of Rot—both diametrically opposed to itself.
So be it. Let the grievances of greater Caelid converge here.
For them all to deliver themselves to its doorstep was an excellent opportunity.
O'Neil activated his banner's weapon skill one last time, mobilizing the remaining corrupted soldiers to fight with reckless abandon.
The scene devolved into a gruesome spectacle of flying flesh and blood.
Even if their bodies were torn apart by Blaidd's greatsword, they continued to pounce on the enemy. Even if riddled with the Redmane Army's spears, their charge was unhindered. Even as the Southern Army's flames engulfed an area, burning soldiers marched forward…
All the energy accumulated in the Lake of Rot over many years was gambled in this one desperate throw. Now, only one target remained.
"Frieren!"
Facing the venomous roar, the silver-haired girl tightened her grip on her twin blades, her expression grave. Although the Astrologer's mana was depleted, and even if a sliver were restored, it would have to be channeled into the Flower of Aeonia, she still had one legendary weapon and one top-tier weapon. The strong are not constrained by their environment. It was enough.
Beside her, Millicent held her sword in one arm, adopting a side-facing stance, her gaze narrowed, her sharp edge exposed, her stern sword aura released without reservation.
She had still been somewhat injured, but under the healing of the Minor Erdtree, she had fully recovered.
The others suppressed the corrupted soldiers while keeping their distance.
They all understood that a world-altering battle would continue here. They had thought the New Lord of Souls would be weakened if she used magic; on the contrary, she would adopt a fighting style the world had never seen.
Swoosh!
The spear, like a dragon, thrust out a long rainbow, striking straight at Frieren. Simultaneously, O'Neil kept his eyes firmly locked on the enemy to prevent any change in tactics. However, she neither dodged nor evaded, using the broad blade of the Grafted Blade Greatsword as a shield to block, meeting force with force, the impact making one's wrist numb.
What kind of strength was this? Was she a dragon?
The next moment, the tip of her greatsword flicked upwards, grazing past the old general's ear, followed by a low, sword-trailing stance using Hound's Step to close the distance.
The Moonveil hidden within the Grafted Blade released its sword light.
It accurately slashed O'Neil's breastplate, aiming to break through the armor. The wound was shallower than expected—
Waterfowl Dance.
Millicent's blade flowed like clear water yet was filled with killing intent. As she danced gracefully, she enveloped her target, instantly creating streaks of blood-shadows. The Goddess of Rot actually felt its control being hindered.
O'Neil's own will was gradually awakening. Wouldn't this turn into a three-against-one fight?!
Flowing water never stagnates; a frequently used door hinge never rusts. This sword style emphasized ceaseless flow, never pausing, embodying relentless struggle. It was even said to possess the power to seal Scarlet Rot.
Could Frieren have anticipated this all along?
"Beautiful!"
Even Frieren, who had witnessed countless sword techniques, praised Millicent's swordsmanship. It was quite profound, a style of its own.
Few of the experts she had encountered in the Lands Between so far possessed a systematic school or style. This person, however, clearly had a long and profound heritage; her sense of coordination and fusion was something ordinary people lacked.
"Thanks to you creating an opportunity for me. Your skills are formidable."
Mastery of all weapons—that was her impression of this shardbearer. Her style changed with her weapon; whatever she used, she could adjust her techniques accordingly, and there were traces of other styles as well.
Only through comprehensive mastery could this be achieved. She must have undergone unimaginable combat tempering.
The two exchanged a glance and attacked again.
Swoosh.
Two intersecting sword shadows locked down O'Neil's movements. At this moment, he could only parry. He couldn't match Frieren's exaggerated greatsword strength in a direct clash of blocks and was frequently caught by Moonveil's surprise attacks.
Frieren alone held the front, suppressing the rot-enhanced old general. Even when facing counterattacks, she could parry them back.
This is bad. Don't attack recklessly, or you'll be parried off balance.
But purely defending would only worsen the situation.
Whenever there was an opening, Millicent would launch a Waterfowl Dance, each time attacking from a difficult angle.
She perfectly complemented Frieren's strong frontal assaults and blocks, her moves resonating with her partner's, advancing, becoming faster, sharper, her blood boiling, recalling and executing countless sword techniques.
For the first time since she could remember, she was in such a state. Thanks to you, I can stand here and fight to my heart's content as a swordswoman.
A perfect blend of strength and grace.
Their coordinated offensive for a time firmly suppressed O'Neil.
"What a useless puppet!"
At this point, the Goddess of Rot simply took one hundred percent control of this body, causing it to complete its transformation into a true rot creature. The next moment, a scarlet aura emanated from its entire being, swelling by a size.
Now its power was sufficient to contend with Frieren. The physically weaker Millicent also dared not attack rashly.
O'Neil, transformed into a fantastical beast, stirred the winds and clouds.
Each step cracked the earth; even the lakebed revealed its rocky bottom. A sweep of its banner kicked up dust and mire, spreading pollution. No one could stand in that storm. Its terrifying physique ignored sword wounds, no longer bleeding but leaking rot miasma, adding a touch of ferocious horror.
The only one who could keep up with the rhythm was Frieren with her parries and counters. During lulls, Millicent could inflict some damage and dispel the rot.
Both sides entered a white-hot battle, neither giving an inch, only the most extreme, ferocious attacks remaining.
Boom!
The shockwaves even covered the corrupted soldiers. However, one could clearly distinguish a wisp of scarlet aura rising from them and converging into the giant Flower of Aeonia.
And it was now under Frieren's control.
"To still have such strength while being distracted by absorbing Scarlet Rot!" Freyja roared. "She truly has the aptitude to fight Lord Radahn on equal terms! It's truly exciting!"
"Don't think about that now! The premise is that we survive!" Edgar panted heavily.
Continuously fighting beastly knights and corrupted puppets was exhausting.
Thinking carefully, ever since entering Caelid, it seemed like they had been fighting nonstop. Their superior was operating at high intensity.
Although the Southern Army had interspersed periods of rest, the accumulated fatigue, coupled with the need to cautiously combat Scarlet Rot, still left them somewhat drained. The situation was extremely dangerous; they had to conduct their encirclement with utmost care.
Fortunately, their teammates were reliable.
At this moment, the radiance of Melina's Minor Erdtree expanded further, covering every corner of the battlefield, as if responding to her desire to help Frieren. The power of her incantation reached its peak.
Following the New Lord of Souls' world-renowned healing magic, the Southern Army's second healing sorcerer had appeared.
It basically compensated for the wide-area group healing that Frieren couldn't attend to.
With this layer of insurance, Blaidd, Alexander, and the others could unleash their full strength without worrying about injuries, feeling completely secure.
"—It's Castellan Jerren arriving!"
Hmph!
Simultaneously, the charge horn sounded, accompanied by the Redmane Army's banner fluttering in the wind. The absolute main force, concentrating the resources of the entire castle, had arrived. In the hands of the battle-hardened acting castellan, they transformed into a sharp blade, kicking up dust as they plunged fiercely into the horde of rot creatures.
Their entry directly announced the tipping of the scales of power.
The encouraged Southern Army also pursued with vigor. Thousands of soldiers charged as one, forcing the monsters into a disorderly retreat.
Since today presented a good opportunity to potentially purify the Lake of Rot, they couldn't let it go, no matter the cost. They had to stabilize this battle.
Distant
uphill.
Mohg's projection, watching the scene of slaughter, revealed a sneer. "Is this all the Outer God of Rot amounts to?"
He had originally adjusted from the injuries caused by the Sunlight Spear and was preparing to launch another surprise attack, but now was not a good time. The most threatening Frieren seemed unable to use magic, but her combat power was almost unaffected.
She was a battlemage like Starscourge Radahn; both styles had reached the demigod level.
One should probably thank the Goddess of Rot for probing out one of her trump cards.
And not using magic had bought her the chance to control the Flower of Aeonia. That thing in the center of the lake, constantly sucking Scarlet Rot, could both purify and be used as a weapon. What if it slammed into him?
Useful things must be used.
This had always been Frieren's style.
Facing the Goddess of Rot's bloom was naturally pointless, but facing him was another matter. In her current good condition, she would absolutely dare to use it.
So be it.
"Today is not a good opportunity. The army hasn't fully assembled yet. We'll meet again next time." Mohg glanced at the lake and disappeared.
The Blood Dynasty was not suited to make an appearance at this moment. It was better to let these groups exhaust each other for a while. It would conveniently allow the rot creatures to deplete their strength, making it easier to launch a sneak attack during the subsequent combat festival.
Castellan Jerren's army caused the scales of the battlefield to tip completely to the human side.
Rot creatures fell continuously, firmly sealed within the encirclement, virtually a battle of trapped beasts. Now, their complete annihilation was only a matter of time. Many years of struggle finally saw the dawn.
The infuriated Goddess of Rot attempted to resist and brew an offensive, only to find the accumulated lake water had all dried up.
"You've been a great help. Now that I kill you, there'll be no more pollution."
Frieren tightly gripped the Ringed Knight Sword, wreathed in flames, containing a trace of the First Flame's searing power.
"In your dreams."
She controlled O'Neil to charge, but unexpectedly, a red figure flashed from her blind spot. This time, it was Millicent acting as the front line, meeting the charge head-on. The sword energy of Waterfowl Dance swept in all directions, clearing away Scarlet Rot, and another sword strike parried the long spear.
A perfectly timed parry that smoothly disrupted the target's balance—something she had just learned from her comrade-in-arms.
Simultaneously, Frieren seized the opportunity and thrust out her sword.
Crack!
The flame-wreathed blade pierced straight through O'Neil's chest. Sure enough, the Goddess of Rot let out a bloodcurdling scream. The burning of the First Flame was enough to cause an evil Outer God excruciating pain.
This wisp of will quickly fled, vanishing along with the oppressive presence.
_____
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