Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1372 - 838 Hyperion’s Awakening_4

The Count of the Blood Clan launched the first attack, transforming into a streak of black lightning that rushed toward Barton in an instant.

Sharp claws gleamed under the moonlight, viciously reaching for Barton's throat.

At the last critical moment, Barton bent his body to evade, drawing his longsword, its blade tracing an arc as it pointed straight at the Baron's heart.

The Baron dodged sideways, his black cloak fluttering, but the longsword still carved a gash across his chest.

Enraged, the Count roared, his fists transforming into two vortexes of black flames that hurled themselves at Barton.

Barton raised a short dagger to block, its blade trembling from the impact as sparks scattered everywhere.

Meanwhile, Abigail's camp nearby continued to suffer relentless attacks.

The sudden and drastic turn of events made Abigail's face grow heavy, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

The Blood Clan's Earl attacking the barrier wasn't the real problem.

It lay instead with the unforeseen combat strength of the Tenth Ancestor, Marquis Ulysses.

"Antanas, be careful. A new Eighth-order combat unit is heading your way!"

Abigail urgently broadcasted this message to her companions.

Just then, a sharp screech pierced the sky; a massive blood-colored giant eagle descended at great speed, spreading its wings like an all-encompassing canopy that blotted out the sun.

The eagle dived sharply, aiming directly at Barton, who was locked in fierce battle outside the barrier.

Barton's sword flashed toward the Blood Eagle in a split-second strike, but the eagle's sheer strength overwhelmed him. Charging headlong, it collided with Barton, sending him flying into a nearby building with crushing force.

A sequence of buildings on the western side of Blood Moon City collapsed in response, raising clouds of dust into the air.

Barton struggled out from the ruins, coughing blood but stubbornly gripping his short dagger.

With just one powerful flap of its massive crimson wings, the Blood Eagle stirred up violent gusts, sweeping away the dust and smoke from the rubble, its booming calls reverberating endlessly.

The eagle circled above, now descending toward Abigail's direction.

On this side of the battlefield, Abigail had fortified her mechanical defense and camp barrier; countless mechanical parts levitated within blue light, assembling to create a sturdy protective net.

The deafening clangs of metal collisions erupted.

Under the Blood Eagle's strike, the glow of the barrier shattered outward, sparks flying through the air, and the barrier began to collapse.

...

In the misty void of the southern sector of Blood Moon City.

Marquis Ulysses hovered in the void, his gaze directed toward the spot where Hyperion was hiding.

"Playing hide-and-seek with you isn't a bad way to entertain myself. Keeping you from running wild is part of my duty, after all."

He raised his right hand gently, aimed toward the girl's location, his voice smooth as silk.

Invisible psychic power blanketed that floating structure, reducing it to rubble in an instant. Hyperion once again transformed into a shadow and fled, turning transparent in an instant.

"As for your plan to reach the Earth Abyss Palace, I'm afraid you're overestimating yourself, Miss."

Marquis Ulysses's voice rang out like a heavenly melody, yet his subtle movements brimmed with an undeniable authority.

Hyperion took advantage of the chaotic collapse of the void, leapt nimbly, and darted toward the precariously swaying cluster of floating buildings.

"Blame yourself for being too weak. Even though I've dispersed so much of my power to my summons, you still can't resist me."

Ulysses pursued relentlessly, the edges of his black cloak trailing like the wings of Death itself.

He looked down arrogantly upon the girl ahead.

To him, this was nothing more than an amusing game.

He had the patience to corner Hyperion here, ensuring she could accomplish nothing.

The void within Blood Moon City twisted and distorted continuously, crumbled buildings falling like meteors in all directions. Hyperion darted among scattered ruins, using the chaos of gravity shifts and environmental cover to evade the Ancestor hot on her trail.

Hyperion's heartbeat grew more frantic as Ulysses drew closer, almost bursting through her chest.

She could feel death looming ever closer, yet gritting her teeth, she resolved to fight until the bitter end. freёweɓnovel.com

...

From Hyperion's fragmented perception of the ongoing battle, the western camp had lost order following its assault.

The most favorable situation currently was over on Lanci's and Sigrid's side.

Lanci remained unpressured, but he and Rashal were locked in mutual attrition—neither could break away.

Sigrid, unable to make a breakthrough against the Seventh Ancestor Helitier, grew increasingly desperate.

In the other battlefields, only Tolyado was barely under manageable pressure, staying alive while fending off the Rotten Bishop Fa Mo.

The Bingxue Witch and Isatia faced the constant threat of plunging into dire crisis.

The worst, without question, was the Hall of Annihilation's Antanas, Sinola, and Pranay. Facing Marquis Somerset on terrain dominated by the Blood Clan had already placed them at a disadvantage. Now, with the Eighth-order summoned beast sent by Marquis Ulysses thrown into the mix, their fragile balance was poised to collapse completely.

"Hyperion, head toward Sigrid or Lanci…"

Abigail's communications came through intermittently, occasionally accompanied by the rumbling roar of storms throwing up clouds of debris.

She and Barton were teetering on the brink of death at any moment.

Hyperion understood that Abigail's sudden, urgent command carried deep implications.

With the western camp collapsing, Abigail wanted Hyperion to at least survive. By escaping to Lanci or Sigrid, Hyperion might hold onto the last shred of hope, even if everyone else perished.

The weight of guilt crushed Hyperion; not only had she failed to help, but she had fled the camp alone.

Evidently, Ulysses's Eighth-order summoning had already reached the western assault team's camp.