The Heaven-Cursed Costs Life, But I Have Infinite Life-Chapter 42: The Ascetics, Battle Outside the City
Blackspire, outskirts.
A Shadow Guard approached Allen, his face etched with worry. "Mr. Allen, trouble is brewing at the City Lord’s Mansion. Two Ascetics have led over thirty Bright Knights out of the city."
With Raven gone, command of the Shadow Guards temporarily fell to him. Allen had learned his name was Clayton, a Stage 5 Berserker on the lower end of the spectrum.
"Only two of them? What are their levels?" Allen asked curiously. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖
Clayton let out a silent sigh. Only two? Did he really think that little?
"Two Stage 5 Ascetics, sir. Do you think you can handle them?"
He wasn’t trying to look down on Allen, but Ascetics were the Church of Light’s elite powerhouses. Even with the title The Heaven-Cursed, Allen stood little chance against them.
"And what about the Mansion? Can you get the City Lord and Lilia out safe?"
Allen didn’t bother explaining. With his recent power surge and his new mastery of the Tempest Slash, taking down Stage 5 foes was a non-issue for him.
"Probably not," Clayton said grimly. "The Mansion still has two Stage 6 experts guarding it. Plus, the City Lord and Miss Lilia are already injured. They have no chance against a Stage 6."
"Then let’s deal with these two Ascetics first. We need a way to draw out the other two," Allen said, convinced that once he took down these two Stage 5s, the remaining powerhouses wouldn’t stay still.
"Mr. Allen, is this a joke? Maybe you should just leave while you can. If things get real, we’d die trying to protect you," Clayton warned, hesitant. He was already defying the City Lord’s direct orders; he didn’t want the blame if things went wrong.
"Do I look that weak?" Allen shot him a glare. "Listen up. You don’t need to move a muscle. I’ll handle this myself."
Clayton offered a bitter smile and said nothing more, but inside he had already made up his mind: if Allen were in danger, he would fight to his death just to buy him time to escape.
"But there is one thing I’ll need your help with," Allen added, thinking for a moment.
He looked up and said coldly, "Kill me."
"Ahhh?" Clayton’s eyes widened in shock. He stared at Allen, doubting he’d heard correctly.
"Exactly as I said. When things start heating up, you all need to stay back," Allen explained his plan.
Clayton drew his Saber, looking conflicted. "Mr. Allen, are you sure? One slash from me and you might actually die."
"Stop wasting my time," Allen snapped. He had already noticed movement at the city gate and had no patience for more talk. With a sudden burst of speed, he slammed his body right into Clayton’s Saber.
Splat!
Blood sprayed everywhere as the blade pierced straight through Allen’s heart.
"Mr. Allen!" Clayton yelled in panic, instantly letting go of the hilt and stumbling backward. "Mr. Allen, I didn’t mean to! I didn’t strike you!"
"Shut up! Do exactly what I said!"
Pain twisted Allen’s face. That single blow had cost him 13 years of his life, but it hadn’t killed him. His face turned pale as he slowly collapsed into the pool of blood, his breathing ceasing completely.
Clayton stepped forward, trembling as he reached out to check for a pulse. He froze. Pale and sweating, he couldn’t help but curse aloud, "Damn it! Is this your plan? You just killed yourself? It’s fine if you’re dead, but you’re going to get me killed too!"
Clayton’s mind raced with thoughts of running away. There were still other Shadow Guards nearby; this couldn’t be hidden. If the City Lord found out, he was a dead man.
But just then, the sound of hoofbeats grew louder. Two Ascetics had arrived with the knights, surrounding them.
"Let’s gamble on this!"
Clayton swallowed hard, forcing down his fear. He looked up, sizing up the two old men ahead of him.
They looked weary and weathered, dressed in simple clothes. Their exposed arms were dry and skeletal, making them look like they were on the brink of death.
Yet, Clayton dared not underestimate them. Ascetics from the Church of Light always looked half-dead, but their power was terrifying.
"What is going on here?" Cassian glanced at Allen’s body lying in the blood, then looked at Clayton, asking coldly.
Clayton swallowed again. There was no turning back now; he had to stick to Allen’s plan.
"Sir," Clayton bowed low, his voice dripping with fake flattery. "This Allen betrayed the City Lord. I killed him myself to present to you both."
"You killed him? Didn’t we need him alive?" Cassian growled, disgusted by Clayton’s attempt to please them.
Clayton lowered his head, too terrified to speak.
The other old man, Lysander, frowned as he looked at Allen’s body. "The priest said this guy’s blood holds powerful life energy. It’s impossible for him to die so easily."
"Let me see," Cassian said. He walked over to Allen, checked his breath, then felt his pulse. His frown deepened. He stood up coldly. "He’s dead."
Both men turned their icy gazes toward Clayton, their killing intent clear.
They had learned Allen’s secret; a living Allen was far more valuable than a dead one.
"Watch out!" Lysander suddenly shouted.
Allen’s lifeless body suddenly rose in an eerie way. A glint of cold light flashed as he thrust his Saber straight into Cassian’s back.
Shhh-k!
The blade pierced through Cassian’s abdomen, blood gushing out.
Rage boiled inside Cassian as a terrifying aura erupted from his body.
"Die!"
With a roar, Allen felt a shockwave of terrifying power hit him, sending him flying backward. He crashed to the ground hard, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
"So strong!"
Allen thought, deeply shocked. He never expected that even after being ambushed and injured, this old man could still unleash such power.
Cassian pressed a hand against his wound, slowly turned around, and fixed his chilling eyes on Allen. He cursed, "You wretched little bastard, daring to scheme against me with such vile tactics!"
"Who are you calling an old beast?" Allen retorted.
"I’m calling you... what the f—" Cassian suddenly realized his mistake, his rage boiling over. Ignoring his own injuries, he whipped out a long lash from his waist and lunged at Allen.
"Old beast, your temper’s too volatile. You’ll drop dead from a sudden rupture if you keep acting like this!"
Allen sneered, leaping back while firing a barrage of fireballs and wind blades.
Boom! Boom!
The fireballs exploded, and the wind blades shrieked through the air as powerful energy clashed around them.
Cassian gritted his teeth and endured Allen’s Forbidden Spell. He looked battered and his wounds got worse, but his rage only grew. He wanted nothing more than to tear Allen apart limb from limb.
Nearby, Clayton saw that Allen had come back from the dead. He let out a silent sigh of relief, hesitating on whether to jump in and help.
Suddenly, he felt a freezing killing intent from behind. It was Lysander.
Clayton forced a fake smile and fawned, "Sir, I didn’t know that guy was faking his death. I truly want to join the Church of Light."
"Hmph!" Lysander snorted disdainfully, ignoring him completely as he kept his eyes fixed on the battlefield.
Clayton exhaled, relieved, but his heart raced as he watched the two fight. He was shocked.
Allen was only at Stage 2, yet he could fight a Stage 5 powerhouse head-on—a Stage 5 Ascetic of the Church of Light!
Even though the old man was injured, Allen looked far worse.
"Are The Heaven-Cursed really this terrifying?" Clayton thought with curiosity. Quietly, he took a step back, creating distance between himself and Lysander.
Boom!
A massive shockwave erupted. Both Allen and Cassian were blown backward by the sheer force.
Allen coughed up blood. His chest wound was deeper now, and several deep gashes ran down his body, tearing away large chunks of flesh.
The old man’s whip was barbed, and it had done serious damage.
Cassian wasn’t fairing any better; he was covered in dirt and bruises.
"You really are that person’s descendant," Cassian said, staring coldly at Allen.
"Huh?"
Allen paused, surprised. "You know who I am?"
"Hmph!" Cassian snorted in pain. He pressed a hand hard against his abdomen wound and called out, "Lysander! This guy is weird. Let’s attack him together!"
"Fine!"
Suddenly, Lysander, who had been watching from the sidelines, moved. His body became a blur, appearing right in front of Allen in an instant. He unleashed a powerful punch aimed straight at Allen’s chest wound.
"Heaven’s Punishment: Earth Shield!"
Allen quickly cast Earth Shield, and a dark gray earthen wall materialized in an instant.
Boom!
But with just one punch, the shield shattered. Lysander’s fist kept speeding forward and smashed straight into Allen’s chest.
Bang!
Allen grimaced in pain, stumbling backward. A piercing agony exploded in his chest as four bloody holes appeared, gushing blood.
Only then did he notice Lysander’s fist—it was reinforced with knuckle dusters.
Rank S-Class Fighter!
"Hmph, you old man is truly despicable!" Allen took a deep breath, forcing himself to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest.
He held his Saber ready, his fighting spirit surging.
"Boy, you should be proud. Very few can force two of us to attack together," Lysander said coldly. His figure blurred as he charged again.
From the other side, Cassian swung his whip, coiling it around to entangle Allen.
"Hmph, it’s time to end this," Allen said, his eyes burning with madness. "Heaven’s Punishment: Tempest Slash!"
Whoosh...
A gentle breeze ruffled the air. Allen’s body vanished into thin air. Both their attacks missed.
"Wind Cloak? How is that possible? That’s an intermediate spell?" Cassian frowned in suspicion. Allen was only Stage 2. To learn an intermediate spell, he needed to reach at least Stage 4.
Hummm...
The blade hummed with intent, countless glints of cold light flashing everywhere.
"Wait, that’s an attack skill!" Lysander shouted in alarm.
In the next instant, they were surrounded by a storm of cold blades.
Thwack, thwack...
Swords flashed, light gleamed, and blood sprayed. Both men were instantly put on the defensive, unable to even catch a glimpse of Allen’s form.
"Holy Protection!" they shouted in unison, activating defensive skills. Holy light surrounded them, forming a shield.
Clang, clang...
Cold blades clashed against the shield, making a sharp ringing sound. The holy light began to shatter.
"Damn it! What kind of skill is this?" Cassian’s face twisted in panic. Like a headless fly, he angrily whipped his lash, but it couldn’t touch Allen even once.
Lysander’s expression was equally grim. His light shield was cracking under the relentless assault.
"Retreat!" he gritted out. If they stayed, they would surely die.
The two exchanged a glance and fled in opposite directions.
Heaven’s Punishment: Tempest Slash was powerful, but its range was limited to only a few dozen meters. By splitting up, at least one of them was bound to survive.
