Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 331 : In the Name of Sloth (4)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
-!!!
A terrifying shriek that turned dread into worship resounded, while the enormous masses of meat, each the size of a mountain, got pulverized.
--!!!
Regardless of the cost, it lifted its leftover arm to strike at Basiliora.
From that colossal palm, warped bones erupted, creating hideous spikes, before crashing toward Basiliora's rear.
Crash—!
The dark spike jutting from Basiliora's back easily halted that arm.
Crackkkkk!
Shortly afterward, it got utterly demolished.
-!!
-!!
Its wail rang out, serving as a warning to everything around and yet a bellow that sparked optimism.
The beast tumbled down into the dark domain.
From the earth, shadowy strands emerged, hauling up the meat to mend its form.
Squish—crackkk~!
Thus, another heap of flesh started to take shape like a mountain.
Glancing at the scene below, Alon released a quiet breath, noting how his strike had taken effect on the Sin of Sloth.
In the source material, the Sin of Sloth split into four stages.
Stage 1 meant the dark domain kept growing without facing strikes, compelling those trapped within to turn on one another.
Should this stage not get halted swiftly, containing the Sin of Sloth turned impossible.
According to Psychedelia's world map, once the dark domain covered over 30 tiles, it spelled instant defeat no matter what.
This stemmed from the game's lack of spells reaching beyond 31 tiles.
Actually, nothing exceeded 20 tiles.
Stopping the Sin of Sloth proved nearly unattainable.
Even so, the defeat threshold sat at 31 tiles due to divine power.
The math got intricate, but Sironia’s divine power let you bypass the dark domain's influences.
Naturally, that held only up to 20 of those 31 tiles.
After that point, debuffs would hit gradually, turning you into one of them eventually.
That would have been the usual outcome.
Lacking her, he wouldn't have considered properly halting the sin, leading to the world's ruin.
However, easing up remained premature.
They had barely cleared the initial stage.
“....”
Alon directed his eyes downward.
Flesh masses were gathering near Basiliora.
The count of these masses grew with the domain's tiles.
At 30 tiles, four appeared.
Noting the flesh masses' quantity, he figured that out, yet no intense alarm gripped him.
Seven gigantic masses burst from the soil toward Basiliora simultaneously.
Their vast scale was palpable from high above, encircling Basiliora right away.
“This is insane—”
“Shouldn’t we do something, Celaime?! This isn’t what we discussed in the plan! There are seven of them!”
Curses laced with frenzy slipped from the troops' lips.
A frantic yell erupted from Parkline.
This reaction made sense.
Any single mass could overwhelm Basiliora with its bulk.
“....”
Thus, Celaime gulped and mustered mana, seemingly left with no option but to unleash a spell.
“...!”
With the dark masses sealing Basiliora completely and the twisted, skeletal arms lifting skyward to descend—
Alon steadily shaped a hand seal, as though anticipating this exact instant.
And then.
“Spirit Tree (Wood).”
The troops—
And Celaime along with Parkline witnessed it.
Bursting from Basiliora’s whole frame—
Obsidian-hued trees.
Silently, the trees ripped through the masses trapping Basiliora.
Bathed in murky crimson blood and verdant smears, the trees overtook the dark domain and the heavens.
They lifted the dark masses like enormous fruits and propelled them skyward.
“Drago...?”
A trooper whispered while eyeing the ebony trees unfurling like wings.
All stood mute, gaping at Basiliora's silhouette.
It proved staggering.
The myriad trees clinging to its colossal form rendered Basiliora even grander.
A primal dread, or maybe reverence, seeped into every soul.
-!!!!
At last, Basiliora’s beastly howl rang out, sending the shattered flesh masses plummeting earthward.
Unlike their earlier rise fueled by devouring fears, they now dropped feebly and burst apart.
Appendages ripped free, and the hideously jutting bones broke uselessly.
And then.
Having assessed the ground's state, Alon shifted focus to the looming Phase 3—
—He eyed the swiftly unfolding Phase 3.
Boosting his sight with mana, he spotted a cluster radiating hazardous magic heading for Ashtalon's royal fortress.
Alon swiftly recognized them.
Phase 3 of the Sin of Sloth.
It seized those who perished in the dark domain yet held some strength.
To be exact, it resembled "puppeteering" more than "seizing," sparking debates among gamers here.
The puppets got selected at random.
When that chance picked "potent" figures, such as elite knights, matters grew dire.
These puppets gained from 50% up to full strength boosts over their prior states.
And as proof.
The trio of mighty beings closing in from the distance pulsed with such dark force it appeared tangible.
Millennium Ice chilled all in proximity while brandishing a huge armament.
Beside him, Dragon Lance gripped a lance pulsing with a perilously savage vibe, true to his title.
And lastly, Hidden Swordsman—
Crack— Craaackkkk!
He idly cleaved the nearby landscape as he progressed unhurriedly.
A pointless deed entirely.
Still, his mana overflowed so dominantly that such wastefulness was effortless.
Alon had just a brief instant to verify this view.
“They’re coming, as expected.”
Alon also detected the entities starting to cluster around the powerful trio.
Creatures so decayed they barely qualified as undead trailed the three.
Troops, warriors, beasts.
Those who had breathed once, or at least kept some shape.
Now they advanced on Alon, who readied another incantation against the Sin of Sloth.
Then, eventually.
Dragon Lance hoisted his enormous lance overhead.
Kwooooom—!!!
Mana burst forth savagely.
Ignoring any harm to himself, Dragon Lance assumed a hurling pose, condensing oppressively thick mana in his grasp.
The clear aim was Alon.
But others joined too.
Hidden Swordsman and Millennium Ice, who had merely strode onward emitting mana, now surged toward Alon’s treasure ship, with Millennium Ice forging icy platforms in the sky.
The empowered elites, bolstered by sin's might.
Those retaining even partial forms.
All rushed Alon together to take him down.
With a screech like mangled metal.
Dragon Lance, warped to extremes, entered Alon’s sight.
Even sans sight enhancement, Alon distinctly viewed the lance consuming and whirling black mana.
To that lance, range held no barrier.
Once released, it would strike the treasure ship instantly—no doubt lingered.
Still, Alon stayed composed.
He had foreseen every bit.
-!!!!!
The lance in Dragon Lance’s hold emitted a frosty whine as it rent the atmosphere.
Slicing wind and noise, the lance hurtled ahead like it aimed to skewer a deity above.
All eyes fixed on the lance as it gained speed, shattering aerial walls repeatedly.
Boom—!
Right as the lance hurtled at the treasure ship, a golden thunderclap erupted upward.
From there.
Seolrang appeared, shrouded in aureate glow.
She smirked—!
With an icy grin, she seized the incoming lance and flung it right back at Dragon Lance.
Fwaaaaaaa~!!!!
The lance struck Dragon Lance, detonating the earth like a warhead impact.
Next, from the haze, Millennium Ice, who had been stepping through the air, soared up to assail Seolrang.
Craaaack~!
Millennium Ice’s armament likewise missed Seolrang.
“It’s been a while.”
Eliban parried Millennium Ice’s blow with an easygoing grin.
Millennium Ice, face impassive, swiftly aimed a kick at the barrier before him.
Boom—!
As though anticipating it, Eliban slashed his blade low, slamming Millennium Ice swiftly groundward.
In that instant.
Hidden Swordsman, set to unsheathe amid the dust, at last attempted—
[-]
He failed to unsheathe.
The hidden swordsman gazed at the gigantic blade now plunged where he'd stood seconds prior, then lifted his eyes skyward once more.
In that formerly pristine azure expanse that bore only one vessel, tracing the elongated mana trail—
Crack—! Craaackkk!
Fissures started webbing out.
Innumerable fissures that appeared to swallow the whole firmament.
Quickly, armaments poured from those fissures, and then—
“Foolish—”
A voice descended.
“You worthless shells,”
Flanked by myriad armaments, positioned amid the fissures,
“Don’t even think you can reach Brother.”
Radan’s voice overlooked the earth with icy authority.