Chrysalis Chapter 1733 - Up Close and Personal

Graham couldn't deny that facing the beast so closely was a daunting experience. Despite all his past encounters insisting it was merely an ant—something frail—its sheer aura proved otherwise in no uncertain terms.

The monster, caught off guard, responded with astonishing swiftness to the sudden emergence of the Penitent Lances. Still, Graham took satisfaction in witnessing one hit its mark. Summoning them demanded a heavy toll, and while his followers were eager to bear it, the War Bishop hesitated to invoke them without absolute need.

He refused to treat those above him in the Church with casual disregard, unlike so many others.

He'd anticipated that one hit might make a real difference, but those expectations shattered as he drew nearer to the creature. It loomed above them, chomping its mandibles, its massive antennae like tree trunks slicing the air while it darted about with impossible agility and poise, refusing to be slowed.

A closer look revealed the injury sealing shut already, fresh carapace forming over the mended tissue underneath. Reports had mentioned its rapid recovery, but this bordered on ridiculous!

Lifting his sacral mace overhead, Graham unleashed the fervor surging through his soul.

“LET FLY THE WRATH OF YOUR FAITH!” he bellowed, plunging into the violet glow encircling the monster.

Right away, an oppressive force bore down on him, nearly forcing him to kneel. His grip on the mace nearly slipped, his wrist throbbing from the strain of keeping hold.

But imposing spells on bearers of divine retribution wasn't straightforward. Deep inside, Graham sensed the blazing inferno ignited by his devotion and the sacred Path he followed. He poured his vitality into it, scorching his vitality recklessly.

Power scorched his flesh as radiance burst from his core, repelling the beast's enchantment and weakening its hold. Everywhere around, his fellow Judges mirrored his actions. In their rear, Green Mountain's four thousand troops maneuvered to surround the foe, peppering it with ranged assaults from afar.

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Graham unleashed a mace strike, unleashing a burst of skill-light as he arced it broadly toward the ant's skull.

The ant deflected the attack with disdainful ease using its mandibles, scattering the glow effortlessly, yet a flurry of twelve more assaults hammered down simultaneously. All for nothing. Not a single one breached the ant's armor, and seconds later, the beast barreled through their ranks, erupting light from its jaws.

Soldiers of both genders sailed through the air, hurled back by the creature's force and speed, though it couldn't advance much. Enclosed on every flank, it faced the radiant blaze of the Path from all directions.

“LANCE!” Graham thundered.

He channeled additional life essence into the blaze, intensifying its brilliance and might, blending it seamlessly with the energies of his comrades.

Certain members handled shaping that power into lances, guiding them at the monster just as its charge faltered.

Twelve luminous spears hurtled at the creature, vanishing too swiftly for the eye to track. Strangely, the beast anticipated them, contorting with ferocious speed beyond what its bulk suggested possible. Even with its desperate maneuvers, two found their target—one near its cranium, the other embedding in the hinge of a mid-leg.

While the ant staggered, Graham lunged forward with full might to bridge the space, heaving his mace again.

Suddenly, the ant blinked out of sight before them, materializing two hundred meters distant, flinging troops aside in its path.

“KEEP UP THE PRESSURE!” he shouted, met by a thunderous reply reverberating through the cavern.

Two solid impacts. Those lances packed formidable punch and weren't simple to ignore. Nevertheless, as Graham wielded his mace, he watched the injuries mend even quicker now, tissue knitting and shell reforming the instant the lances dissipated.

How could it achieve such feats? The Church archives documented countless regeneration forms among monsters. Any beast attaining this might healed to some degree; the key was wearing them out through relentless damage until regeneration failed.

Graham lashed out with his weapon, rage blazing in his gaze and bolstering his strike.

Continuously, the Judgement Battalion's forces shifted positions, adapting fluidly. As some pressed forward, others provided backup. As some fell back, reinforcements sealed the breach. Wherever the monster turned, coordinated attacks assailed it relentlessly from every angle.

The beast withstood the barrage of strikes, parting its mandibles broadly and unleashing a devastating blast.