Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 792 - : Demigod Heroes and the Destined Protagonist

Chapter 792 -792: Demigod Heroes and the Destined Protagonist

Shard Hamilton slowly descended through the air and finally stood on the tranquil water surface that twinkled with tiny starry sparkles.

Behind him, the Brass Life Ring of the Four-Ring Sorcerer was gradually calming its frenzied spinning. Besides the Core Spirit Rune, twelve Spirit Runes on the surface of the Ring of Fate shimmered as if about to liquefy, circulating across the ring’s four surfaces.

Divinity had cleansed Shard’s soul, and on the Path of the Twelve Divinities, he had once again taken a crucial step. At this moment, the dissipating divine power still lingered, and he was finally qualified to confront the Chosen by Death in the realm of death.

His feet touched the surface of the water, and the moment he opened his eyes, the silver moonlight that had dyed his skin slowly faded away, and the light in his pure golden eyes gradually converged.

Joey Barton completely stopped his pursuit towards the deepest depths of death, turned around, and walked towards the marshland against the countless white shadows. Carrying the “Night Watchman,” Shard also walked forward on the water surface, his shoes lifting off and then touching down again, sending ripples continuously spreading around.

“It has begun.”

By the bonfire on the marshland, the three observers watched the scene unfold. Priest Augustus stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, Sister Delphine slightly turned her head while sitting on a rock, only Iluna was very anxious:

“This time, I really can’t do anything…”

“Mr. Watson, I am surprised that in the end, we would battle in such a manner.”

The two men stood on the water surface, gazing at each other from afar. Joey Barton did not speak, but his voice directly reached Shard’s ears.

He shook his head:

“There’s nothing left to say, Mr. Barton, this place is the deepest death zone that we, the living with special powers, can enter. Once we cross the Nether Moon and see the Wall of the Unbelievers, there really is no possibility of turning back. This time, I won’t try to persuade you again. Countless have been sacrificed because of you, and many lives have been lost due to your actions. You must pay the price.”

Joey Barton nodded emotionlessly:

“If viewed from the perspective of the story, I indeed am the villain. I know I have done wrong, but I still must do this.”

Such people are actually the most terrifying.

“Mr. Watson, standing here, no one could be stronger than me, are you sure you want to start?”

“Yes… and, my name is, Shard Suren Hamilton!”

Joey Barton lightly tapped his toe, and his whole figure ascended into the heights. In the darkness that the Nether Moon could not illuminate, the huge figure clad in a black cloak appeared behind him.

The scythe was swung, cutting toward the Shard below. The scythe was silent and seemingly weightless, despite its apparent heaviness, floating weightlessly above the water. Death struck, and compared to the real-world Scythe of the Grim Reaper, the silent black scythe at this moment truly signified the Death of Destiny.

But this time, Shard did not dodge; he pointed the “Night Watchman” in his right hand towards the water beneath him, channeling the silver moonlight into the blade, coating it with resplendent moonlight. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and focused, visualizing the bright Nether Moon in his heart.

It was simple, for that Silvermoon had always been in Shard’s heart. Facing the scythe, facing the myriad departing souls, he opened his eyes and looked upward, shouting out the greatest wish in his heart at this moment:

“Moonlight—Slash!”

He drew his sword and swung it upwards, a huge arcing blade trace silently flying forward, clashing with the scythe and shattering into silver light particles.

This was Shard utilizing the Night Watchman’s trait, releasing the ‘Silvermoon Slash.’ Unfortunately, it was only in this state that he could deliver that strike. The light blade in his usual Circle Sorcerer form was merely of normal size.

After the scythe shattered, the massive figure in a black robe lunged forward to grasp at Shard, who retreated backward, lightly tapped his toes, and transformed into a swarm of red butterflies soaring high into the sky from the giant palm’s gap. The swarm flew up towards Joey Barton, who extended a finger, allowing a black light rain to fall, but it simply passed through the center of the butterflies.

The red butterflies fluttered in the darkness and reassembled into Shard in midair.

“Moonlight Slash!”

He kicked out two traces of light in the air, yet he did not fall again, as the light from the red butterflies clung onto fifty-four Roder cards, forming a stairway in the air.

Joey Barton casually shattered the two moonlights, but the incoming Night Watchman forced him to retreat backward.

Shard had reached the end of the Roder card paper bridge; he crossed the space following him, his hands clasping the sword as he thrust toward Barton’s chest.

The latter, as if made of paper, evaded lightly in midair, his figure suddenly becoming blurry. Three identical Bartons, split from the main body, surrounded Shard from the front, back, and both sides.

As Shard fell, the Roder cards floated toward him, constructing a platform beneath his feet, allowing him to jump upward using it,

The four Bartons earnestly extended their hands, two crossed black rays intersecting, blocking above Shard’s head and then pressing downward.

“Power of the Red Dragon—Moonlight Slash—Blade of Chaotic Time!”

Swinging his sword upward, the swelling flesh power brought the glimmering sword light to almost form a continuous line, forcibly shattering the black light above. At the same time, Shard again used the Roder cards to propel himself upward, his sword thrusting toward Joey Barton’s largely black-robed back figure.

The latter’s clone completely vanished, the misshapen body lightly floating back toward the huge black-robed figure and then completely merging into it.

Silently, but Shard knew that the giant-like black-robed figure had already gained intelligence. Pale hands held the scythe together, raising the weapon before slashing downward once again.

This was Joey Barton’s strongest strike, an attack that could neither be evaded nor escaped. Shard stepped on the Roder cards for the last time to jump upward, leveling himself with the hooded head of that giant figure that couldn’t be peeped at.

Both hands holding the Night Watchman, the Ring of Fate silently materialized behind him, the Core Spirit Rune ‘Silvermoon’ flickering with dazzling brilliance. The sword’s light intensified to its utmost, and Shard then saw the Nether Moon in front of him.

The Nether Moon, merely rising from the water’s surface, hanging in the darkness. Bathed in that moonlight, the strongest strike learned from Miss Orland, was finally mastered by Shard:

“Moonlight Greatsword!”

The Night Watchman swept out, and to the three people by the campfire, what seemed like a mere point of light on the longsword suddenly expanded to the size approaching that of the scythe.

The Moonlight Greatsword collided with the scythe, and the Holy Silver Greatsword slowly cleaved the scythe apart, then bisected the hooded black-robed figure at the waist.

“A battle of the top Transcendents from the Mythical Era must have been something like this,”

Iluna, propping up her face, whispered softly as she watched Shard, enveloped by moonlight, gracefully descend to the surface of the water:

“In the church’s epic stories I’ve heard, there are battles like this one, truly impressive.”

Although the nearly silent battle appeared fierce, the white figure on the water remained completely unaffected—here was death, and these spirits were the masters of this place. They simply gazed at the Nether Moon, indifferent to the fierce duel happening on the water surface between the two living beings.

Iluna couldn’t tell which side held the advantage, but holding the Night Watchman in her hand, Shard, who sporadically swept the water’s surface with the giant greatsword, definitely wasn’t at a disadvantage.

“The Mythical Era…”

Priest Augustus, at some point, had taken out a pipe and was trying to use the fire from the campfire in front of him to light a match. Sister Delphine manipulated the flames to assist, and the priest softly thanked her, using the long match to light the surface of the pipe packed with tobacco. As the tobacco began to burn, he used a tamper to gently press down the burning tobacco, then lit the tobacco again with the match and finally took a satisfying puff:

“It’s a pity, Shard’s current state obviously can’t last much longer; otherwise, many matters in the future would be easily resolved.”

Puffing on his pipe, he turned his head toward the area illuminated by the Nether Moon, where amid countless white figures, Shard was in midair wielding the giant “Moonlight Greatsword” swooping down, Joey Barton rolling to evade, but then Shard’s left hand threw another yellow Moonlight Greatsword that, after landing on the water, still buzzed and trembled.

“Looking at it this way, Shard seems even stronger.”

Iluna whispered softly, her eyes fixated on the scene:

“Truly impressive…”

Her tone carried an indescribable melancholy.

“To exhibit such power is indeed nearly miraculous.”

Sister Delphine’s silver eye mask glittered in the campfire light:

“In an even more ancient Era, above the mortal transcendent level, and below the high-dimensional gods, there existed so-called demigod heroes. But as Eras changed, the beings capable of achieving such heights have become increasingly rare. The Fifth Era could be considered to have witches like Miss Mana Feliana among the few, as little as twenty-some. Mr. Hamilton’s current state is nearly reaching that of a true demigod.”

“You all know so much, huh?”

Iluna muttered quietly, and the Old Cleric comforted:

“It’s because I am older and know more things. Miss Beyas, you are still very young, I remember you’re not even eighteen yet. You have a long future ahead; don’t envy us.”

“But Shard is also in his twenties, and it hasn’t even been half a year since he became a Circle Sorcerer.”

Iluna continued speaking.

Sitting on a rock, with her hands clasped together resting on her knees, Sister Delphine also joined the conversation:

“The Chosen of Balance, the gifts of Fate come with a price; every gain is accompanied by a loss. Do not compare yourself with Shard Hamilton. You are entirely different from him. You are a hero destined for the epics; he is merely a spectator beyond Fate, a bystander beneath the stage…”

Glancing at Shard, now clashing with Joey Barton — Barton had once again risen into the air, his hands projecting black light beams toward Shard, who thrust his swords forward, warm yellow sunlight converging with those light beams. Both their clothes flapped wildly, and their faces were contorted fiercely, yet this scene was utterly silent.

“Your paths are different.”

“I actually hoped his fate would align with mine so I could…”

Her cheeks flushed, realizing she had spoken what was not meant to be spoken, Iluna quickly stopped herself. Lat August the Old Cleric chuckled, shook his head, and tapped his pipe on the ground, resting it by the campfire before standing to face the direction of the Nether Moon:

“I should help now.”

Shard believed he had the upper hand, at least he thought so. The waters of death, Joey Barton’s home ground, yet bathed in the glow of the Nether Moon, Shard felt so powerful.

The Night Watchman once again cleaved through the light bullets, dispersing into a swarm of red butterflies, dodging the light rain falling from above. Returning to human form in mid-air, while radiating moonlight with each sweep, he used the “Moonlight Greatsword” transformed into a giant blade to sweep before him.

This strike, of course, wasn’t effective, but Shard didn’t mind. Under the effect of “Lagre’s Leap,” his body shifted ten meters to the left in mid-air:

“Blade of Chaotic Time!”

Two massive Moonlight Greatswords, one from the left and one from the right, pinched Joey Barton. Despite his instinct to evade, Barton fiercely smacked the water surface with both hands, a black light screen shielding both sides of his body. As his soul body began to bleed from the corners of its mouth, he blocked the fatal attack:

“What?”

He looked up in surprise, seeing Shard descending, and above where he had been, a winged angel looked down upon him. Its back wings seared black, white feathers scattering over the water’s surface. Faceless, formless, yet so naturally standing above death:

“An angel?”

The Chosen’s knowledge seemed to remind him of what this was, but Barton couldn’t get an immediate answer. Above Shard, the angel extended its right hand, made no sound, but both on the water knew what this meant:

“Death’s Finger!”

A straight black light beam pierced through Joey Barton’s skull, sweeping him off his feet to the back, rolling across the surface of the water, motionless.

On the edge of the marsh, Priest Augustus’s lips curled into a smile as he shook his head, turned back to the campfire, picked up his pipe, and took another gratifying puff.