Chapter 902: Shadow

In just a blink of an eye, Colin Iliad had transformed into a

four-meter-tall giant. His skin was bluish-black and muscular. Every

inch of his skin, pores, and flesh seemed to violate the normal confines

of a human body. It was a unique combination that possessed an

unimaginable shock factor.

This wasn't something that could be described superficially or in

dimensions, as apart from quantitative terms like length, breadth,

height, there was information, strength, and spirituality as measurement

quantities. They were directly presented and seemed to be rich with

complicated mystical patterns, symbols, and labels. But in fact, there

wasn't any change. The former was just a partial image that humans

received due to them lacking the ability to sense and discern him. But

even so, to face such a creature directly, humans without any godhood

would still be corrupted by the spirituality, having their minds

thrashed. A common outcome would either be death on the spot or going

completely mad.

And it was precisely due to this fact that this creature was known in

mysticism as: Mythical Creature!

However, at that moment, Colin Iliad's head didn't experience any

obvious changes. All it did was swell up significantly, and the area

from his forehead to nose cracked open with a black vertical eye-like

rift.

Before reaching Sequence 2, the Mythical Creature form of a demigod was

incomplete!

Faced with a powerhouse of this level, the advantages and disadvantages

of taking such a form was obvious. On the one hand, this enhanced one's

strength and level significantly. On the other hand, it would result in

intense madness and provide strong inclinations towards losing control.

It was a nontrivial test of one's rationality. It wasn't something those

with insufficient willpower could withstand.

Therefore, most saints would consider transforming into an incomplete

Mythical Creature only if they were forced into a corner. And it

wouldn't just be the transformation of a particular part of their

bodies. To them, such an action was an attempt at dancing on the edge of

a knife. It easily led to a loss of control; therefore, caution was

imperative.

Most of the time, there were two extremes. One extreme was the minority

who indulged in their desires and expressed their evil side fully. The

other was the kind who had extremely strong willpower and a resilient

mind. Once the former produced the Mythical Creature form, it was

equivalent to them losing control with no way of transforming back. The

latter could use their Mythical Creature form as a rather normal battle

tactic, without the fear of losing control and the threat of madness. Of

course, something rather normal wasn't normal. It still wasn't something

that could be used frequently. This was because, for people who danced

at the edge of the abyss, they would only deepen the erosion on them

with each attempt. It wasn't something that could be completely avoided

just because they could handle the negative effects.

Among the City of Silver's six-member council, Chief Colin Iliad was one

of the few who could control his Mythical Creature form as a Demon

Hunter.

He held the two swords that were slathered with different ointments.

Just taking a step forward with his right foot sent the land shaking as

he leaped up towards the top of the altar. He then pounced towards the

former Chief whose body was covered in white feathers.

His giant-like body's interior and exterior produced dawnlike light that

scattered the surrounding darkness, purifying the harrowing creatures

that were in the illusionary river behind them.

At the same time, Waite Chirmont kept drawing his Dragon Slaying Bow,

strafing around the former Chief that had transformed into an unknown

monster with blinding silver lightning arrows.

Lovia had already closed her eyes. The five-meter-tall silver-armored

knight behind her had phased away. Dragging the illusory greatsword, it

charged straight at the altar, producing cracks that overflowed with

silver light.

In addition to that, at the Shepherd Elder's feet, the shadows that

curled into a bundle suddenly began squirming as though they had come to

life.

It quickly left Lovia, and amidst the environment intermixing with

darkness and the dawn, it followed the eeriness and quickly headed for

the iron-black coffin above the altar.

However, its target didn't seem to be the mutated former Chief, but the

thin illusory black tubes that were stabbed into his body while

extending into infinity!

Moments after Klein returned to the real world, he heard the loud sounds

of waves crashing. He heard the prostitutes on the streets screaming in

horror without any signs of calming down.

Slightly surprised, he walked to the window and, through the gap of two

messily built buildings, saw lead-colored clouds stacked together as

waves swarmed the area beyond Poto Harbor. A black hurricane extended

from the surface of the sea to the air, tainted with dark silver

lightning as it silently destroyed everything.

It was like a door that led to the apocalypse had finally been opened.

And inside the port city, the void had turned translucent. Skulls with

open mouths, vines with baby faces, bloody arms, and strange slimy

tentacles with teeth were slamming at the boundary between the illusory

and reality. It was thrilling and horrendous.

This made many pirates tremble in the knees as they didn't dare stay on

the streets. All of them rushed into nearby buildings.

The seemingly invisible wraiths and shadows flew around, appearing from

time to time. Coming close to the ears of different targets, they

attempted to scream but were unable to make contact.

At that moment, Poto Harbor seemed to fall into the hell known as the

Underworld. It was eerie, dark, chaotic, and crazy.

Klein frowned slightly, having had a guess as to what was happening.

Back when he made a divination above the gray fog, it angered the object

deep in the gloomy mausoleum. It then unleashed its temper, changing the

weather of the Berserk Sea and Poto Harbor, creating the phenomena of

the Underworld's descent.

*This also means that the mausoleum is indeed concealed somewhere in the

Berserk Sea... It's probably something that Death left back then. Of

course, this might not be at odds with the product of the Numinous

Episcopate's Artificial Death Project. The two might be fused

together...* Klein retracted his gaze and quickly set up a

ritual and sacrificed Azik's copper whistle to the mysterious space

above the gray fog. It was to prevent the unknown, strange, and evil

object from locking onto him.

After doing that, he looked out of the window at the abnormality that

was gradually calming down. He said with a self-deprecating laugh,

That's such an endearing welcome.

*Hmm... The Numinous Episcopate will definitely notice the abnormality

of the Berserk Sea. I wonder what actions they will take...*

Above the illusory pitch-black river, the waves slowly calmed down. The

arms, vines, and tentacles that attempted to grab at something were

either vaporized or had no choice but to retract themselves.

Around the altar, the land was already covered in cracks. There were

white feathers stained with yellow oil everywhere.

Colin Iliad, in his giant form, had stabbed both swords into the former

Chief's body, pinning the rotting monster that wasn't shorter than him

onto the collapsed altar. Waite Chirmont's Dragon Slaying Bow had

already condensed a silver arrow of light that was filled with a

wrathful aura, aiming it at the head of the former Chief which only had

tiny pieces of flesh hanging off it.

The shadow that Lovia had produced had successfully arrived at the altar

under the silver knight's cover. While the other two Elders weren't

paying attention, the shadow leaped and pounced at the black tubes that

extended into infinity from the former Chief's body.

With the incorporeal tubes approaching, the shadow's color darkened. The

blackness seemed to embody the most corrupt and evil thoughts of

humanity.

At this moment, a deep voice resounded around the altar:

"Fate."

The area "in front" of the shadow instantly darkened before realizing

that it had pounced on the giant-like Colin Iliad.

Colin looked down at it, his eyes lit with a pure brilliance.

It was like the first sliver of light that illuminates the darkness on

an extended night.

The light grew brighter as it blasted out of the mausoleum, causing the

basement of the City of Silver's spire to produce an even brighter and

dazzling light that met with it.

When the two met in midair, they fell back down, landing upon Colin

Iliad's massive body. The pitch-black shadow evaporated with a sizzle,

and the distortion and squirming weakened until they completely

vanished.

Demon Hunter Colin turned back to glance at Lovia without a word or

expression. It was as though nothing had happened.

He quickly retracted his gaze and directed the remnant beam straight

into the former Chief's dual swords.

Lovia stood there with her eyes closed without showing any signs of

panic or fear. Instead, she slowly sighed.

In the City of Generosity Bayam, Alger Wilson circled around many times

in order to escape any imaginary trackers or monitors before arriving at

the Artisan's residence. He pulled the doorbell.

He had heard that the Artisan had recently been infected by a disease

and strange snoopers had appeared in the vicinity. Alger's first

suspicion was the Demoness Sect, but on careful thought, he felt that

the Artisan had no way to withstand the temptation of their charm based

on his preferences. There was no need for the Demonesses to go through

such a complicated and roundabout manner. All they needed to do was curl

their fingers and showcase their charm, and he would divulge and agree

to everything.

Therefore, Alger believed that there was another reason for the matter.

He needed to see it for himself to prevent the delivery of the mystical

item from being delayed. He didn't wish to lose the characteristic and

materials for no good reason.

Amidst the ringing of the doorbell, the Artisan's main door opened. A

thin and tanned middle-aged glanced at Alger and said, "Why are you

here?"

This person was none other than Artisan Cielf who had worked with Alger

for many years. His background was unknown.

"Didn't you say you were sick?" Alger asked, seemingly casual.

Cielf yawned and said, "I'm already better."

Alger was taken aback as he looked around.

"Where's that strange snooper?"

Cielf's eyebags were a little puffy as his brown eyes revealed looks of

fatigue and impatience.

"Who the hell knows? There's been no sign of the snooper anyway. In

short, I'll be moving soon. It's too dangerous here."

Alger heaved a sigh of relief.

"That's good."

He paused for a moment before saying, "Aren't you inviting me for a

cup?"

"A fellow like you who only seeks high-proof alcohol has no way of

appreciating fine wine." Cielf pulled at his flaxen-colored hair and

moved to the side to make way.

Alger walked in staidly, and with just one glance, he had taken in the

entire area into his eyes.