Odyssey of the Blind God Chapter 756 Fated Fight (3/10)

How much time had elapsed?

Nial wasn't entirely sure, but it had to have been hours since the intense confrontation in the Divine Hall commenced.

Certainly, if Nial emerged victorious, that moment would be etched into legend, achieving what Damian had been unable to accomplish.

Alas, he fell short of transforming legend into tangible reality.

A gout of blood erupted from Nial's lips. His legs faltered, and a sharp pain throbbed at the back of his head, blood now drenching his back from an unnoticed blow.

Yet, there was no respite to tend to his wound. His sole focus was to reposition himself as the relentless assault momentarily ceased.

He weaved left and right, his spear still lashing out, desperately preventing himself from being overwhelmed by the barrage.

'How did the momentum of this fight shift so abruptly?'

Nial had no clear answer. It simply happened.

The most significant threat stemmed from the insidious, silent, and deadly smaller attacks. The Advocate of the Pryard employed her hair and feathers as projectiles, inflicting minute wounds that steadily worsened over time.

Nial was already depleted of resources, unable to access his near-limitless reserves of reinforced dark energy. These seemingly insignificant attacks were no longer ignorable.

The truly vexing assaults weaved seamlessly between the minor strikes. When the Advocate unleashed a direct blast of divine energy, her hair and feathers simultaneously targeted his vital points.

Even Nial, the Dark Successor, the God of Gluttony, found himself helpless in this predicament—not without his reinforced dark energy.

Constantly repelled, Nial was forced to abandon any thought of offense, his entire being focused on mere survival.

Even amidst this desperate struggle, his mind relentlessly searched for openings for a counterattack.

At one juncture, Nial intensified his fusion with Goldy. A pair of immense, leathery wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, offering a modicum of protection. Similarly, a long tail, adorned with golden scales, emerged from his tailbone.

He then initiated a secondary fusion with Psy, bolstering his mental fortitude and capabilities.

It wouldn't be entirely out of the question to employ Dominion at this very moment, especially since Psy's latent powers had been accumulating.

Over the years, Psy's abilities had steadily amassed.

As long as Nial was willing to unleash everything in a single, decisive burst, an opportunity for a counterattack could be seized. However, a meticulously crafted plan was paramount. Reckless action would undoubtedly lead to failure, and failure meant oblivion!

The next sensation was the jarring impact of a longsword descending towards his forehead, as if intent on cleaving it in two.

'Bitch.'

Nial narrowly dodged the blow the instant he perceived its trajectory.

He yearned to retaliate at that instant, but a flurry of attacks rained down upon him. Nial found himself compelled to concentrate solely on evasion. The frustration was immense, amplified by his realization of the Advocate's strategic intent.

He understood that opportunities were forged by exploiting weaknesses and then expanding upon them. Consequently, the Advocate was capitalizing on every minuscule opening.

Each blow Nial sustained pushed him back. He hadn't yet fallen, but it felt like an inevitability, a matter of time before he would crash onto the ground.

Another mouthful of blood left Nial's lips. Sweat beaded on his forehead, mingling with the crimson ichor.

His entire upper torso was now a canvas of blood, and countless golden scales had fractured. Yet, Nial paid them no heed, instead consuming his internal nutrition to regenerate the damaged scales.

The assimilation of billions of corpses had not only swelled his reserves of reinforced dark energy but had also saturated every cell within his body with an immense reservoir of nutrition. His Heart of Gluttony pulsed, brimming with vitality.

There was no imperative to hoard nutrition for leaner times. If he didn't expend it now, he might as well offer his life to the Advocate of the Pryard.

As he wiped the blood from his face, Nial bore a truly terrifying visage. He seemed utterly undeterred by the ceaseless onslaught, his movements even appearing to grow more ferocious.

"That's… insane…" the Advocate stammered, her expression one of utter exhaustion.

Was the Dark Successor some form of undying creature? No, that couldn't be it.

"Just perish, you insignificant pest!" she shrieked, leveling her sword at Nial Orin. As if in response to her venomous cry, a slow smile spread across Nial's face.

"Were you addressing me?"

His vitality surged instantaneously, and the aura of a True Golden Dragon billowed forth from his body. His entire presence underwent a dramatic transformation, the corners of his lips curving into an even wider grin.

"You intend to slay me?" he inquired, his physique gradually expanding as fresh layers of golden scales emerged across his form.

His defenses bolstered, and his physical strength intensified in tandem.

It was precisely the opportune moment to unleash a fraction more power!

His body began to radiate a crimson-silver luminescence, intermingling with an intense, searing heat.

It was as though a fervent inferno had been kindled deep within Nial's being.

"Try to kill me! Come on!" His voice boomed, a palpable darkness seeping from his very being. A surge of unshakeable confidence coursed through him, a stark contrast to the brutal pummeling he had endured for hours.

Nonetheless, Nial felt a profound transformation unfurl within his entire existence. His Cursed Divinity responded, ignited by his fierce will to triumph and to wield the power he knew best.

The encroaching darkness wasn't conjured from mere mana, nor was it merely amplified dark energy.

This was primordial darkness, born from the deepest core of Nial, drawn from his own body and life force.

With a grand gesture, Nial spread his arms wide, an act that seemed to embrace the very darkness his body was expelling.

The Cursed Divinity erupted, a cataclysmic wave that reshaped the entirety of the Divine Hall's appearance.

As if this spectacle wasn't enough, Nial began a gradual fusion with Goldy and Psy. His physical form shifted, meticulously transforming him into the embodiment of perfection.

His aura underwent a subtle yet significant alteration, as did the immense pressure he emanated. The marble walls of the Divine Hall commenced a violent tremor, with cracks spiderwebbing across their surface, spreading unrestrainedly.

"Impossible... Not even Divine Gods can inflict such damage upon the Divine Halls simply by releasing their pressure!"

The Advocate of the Pryard shrieked, recoiling instinctively, propelled backward by the sheer force.

"He's consuming himself?!" she thought, utterly flabbergasted.

To say she was shocked would be a monumental understatement. She stood dumbfounded, incapable of comprehending how Nial could possibly devour his own physical form to generate such darkness.

At that precise moment, Nial's previously lifeless, milky-white eyes were now submerged in an abyss of pure darkness.

They seemed to pierce directly into the Advocate's very soul, a single, damning word echoing relentlessly in her mind.

"'Just'?"

Darkness represented one of the most formidable powers Nial could command. Access to Damian's memories granted him millennia of profound experience with this very element.

How could the sacrifice of his own life force and vital essence, transmuted into darkness, be considered merely 'just'?

The Advocate had exerted maximum effort to keep Nial from unleashing his amplified dark energy within the sanctity of the Divine Hall, yet he had ingeniously found a way to circumvent her defenses.

How could she possibly dismiss this as insignificant?

"Fuck..." she whispered, just as Nial's obsidian eyes snapped open wide.

"...How?!"