Chapter 433: Breaking the Array and Escaping, Same Mutation

“?”

Siren could not truly grasp what this legendary powerhouse was saying, for he was not an Alestlerian; he had only come to Winter City after hearing of the opportunities that arose following Sewentan’s defeat by Alestler.

He knew of Father Fang’s reputation and the identities of these two legends, but when linked together, the man’s words remained a mystery.

“My thanks to you both for your aid!”

Siren was not foolish enough to press the issue. To be rescued was the best possible outcome, and he cared little for the reason behind it; as long as his life was preserved, all other concerns could wait.

Galle, the Perfect Behemoth, ground the long, razor-sharp claws extending from his palms—claws of some unknown creature—and locked his bestial gaze upon the frost-covered giant armor that had broken through the blizzard.

“Something like this beneath my homeland... I should have known. And having stayed here for so long, I never detected any disturbance in these ruins.”

He pondered silently, unable to fathom the nature of the frost-clad armor emerging from the ruins. Sewentan had been aware of the site, but its royalty deemed the ruins “dead,” leaving them abandoned and undeveloped.

A “dead” ruin, by definition, was one where all internal activity had ceased due to the erosion of time and external factors, containing nothing of value.

Even if there were, the effort required to extract it would be disproportionate. Unless such ruins obstructed the kingdom’s development, they were never deliberately explored or dismantled.

Embedded within the Saint Anna Snow Peak, it was essentially part of the scenery, and Sewentan had no reason to waste effort on it.

What Galle could not comprehend was why this “dead” ruin had today produced such a formidable frost-clad armor, stirring up this violent, frigid storm.

Since the day he and Rod, the Black Sun, were defeated by Father Fang—who had spared their lives—they had lived in seclusion on this snowfield. Yet, even with a legendary knight’s perception, he had felt no precursor to this change.

“Deal with it first... having such an inexplicable thing on my homeland’s soil is, in any case, infuriating.”

Dismissing the mystery of the ruins, Galle allowed the bestial traits upon his body to deepen. His battle aura roared to life, and he prepared to strike at the frost-clad armor that dragged the blizzard along with it.

“Legendary knight, it seems this era is quite unkind to us. This is not what was promised. Did they break their word?”

The voice that had reached Siren earlier emanated once more from the frost-clad armor. It seemed to hold the legendary knights in considerable dread, and its words left all four present with questions: what was this “old era,” and who were “they”?

Even as he pondered, Galle’s assault began without pause. His bestial feet slammed into the earth, and he vanished from the sight of Siren and Johnson, reappearing in the air directly before the frost-clad armor.

With his body now heavily covered in bestial features, he swathed his claws in battle aura, spinning rapidly as he descended, transforming into a massive, bladed claw that crashed down upon the frost-clad giant.

“Boom, crack-crack-crack-crack!”

The aura erupted, slicing with high-speed rotation. The tangible blade-claw struck the giant’s chest, the immense impact driving the hulking ice-armor back several paces. It clung to the armor, grinding through the solid ice breastplate and plunging deep into the interior. Shards of ice sprayed outward, emitting a high-pitched, piercing friction.

“Boom!”

The giant, armored feet slammed into the snow-covered earth, the staggering weight causing the ground to tremble. The legendary knight’s strike had left a gruesome scar on the chest of the frost-clad armor, from which frigid white mist poured out like blood from a wound.

“Truly detestable...”

The frost-clad armor let out a low, guttural curse, and from the gaps in its plating, a massive surge of frost erupted in all directions.

The ice elements, already dense in the air, were pushed past a critical threshold by this release, forcing the gas to freeze into solid form as it swept outward.

“Hoo...”

Galle showed little reaction. Born and bred in Sewentan, he had lived in this bitter cold since childhood; he had long since moved past mere adaptation, beginning instead to tame this cruel snowfield.

The winter-wolf fur on his body, the thick hide of a thunder-bear, and the glowing lava-turtle heart within his chest allowed him to withstand the freezing tide head-on. He made no move to block or retreat, merely letting his aura circulate, accumulating the momentum of his next strike.

Siren, however, was struck with terror. He channeled his aura and raised his hands, desperately trying to shield himself and Johnson from the flash-freeze that threatened to kill them both.

Yet, neither Siren, bracing his arms, nor Johnson, huddled in a ball, felt the touch of the extreme cold. Looking up, they saw the black sun that had appeared earlier now hovering above them.

Wherever the pitch-black sunlight fell, the terrifying low temperature of the blizzard faded away. The frigid tide erupting from the frost-clad armor was completely neutralized by the black sun released by the legendary knight, Rod.

On the battlefield, this black sun had merely drained the vitality of Alestlerian soldiers and inflicted negative effects; it had never revealed its protective power toward allies.

In truth, the wide-area protection provided by this black sun was no less potent than several stacked battlefield buff spells.

“Hum!”

Having released the tide to slow the two legends, the frost-clad armor took its next step. It pulled the massive ice sword it had previously driven into the ground back out, raised it high above its head, and swung it down with brutal force toward Galle, who stood motionless within the frigid storm.

“Clang!”

Galle raised his left arm, his sharp claws colliding with the exaggerated blade in a piercing ring. The “domain” unique to a legendary knight was on full display; despite the heavy blow, the Perfect Behemoth did not budge, and the ground beneath him showed no cracks from the impact.

“Is this a legend? How powerful... the peak combat strength of the human kingdoms is truly this.”

Siren watched, stunned, as Galle casually caught the giant sword with one arm—a weapon several times his own size. The visual impact was incomparable.

For Siren, a knight himself, the display was even more profound. Had he been in that spot, he would have been frozen into an ice sculpture long before the blade could have split him in two.

“Snap-crack, whoosh, rumble!”

The sound of something shattering echoed. The great sword, forged from the same material as the armor, was now gripped tightly by Galle, and no matter how the frost-clad armor pulled, it could not reclaim its weapon.

The next moment, a searing red light flickered in Galle’s left hand. An explosion erupted instantly upon the blade, shattering the great sword into two pieces.

“Sshhh!”

The scorching energy that had shattered the sword was merely a “byproduct.” The heat conducted from his heart permeated Galle’s entire body, his left hand merely serving as a conduit.

The true target of this massive thermal energy was his right claw. Without a moment’s hesitation, he swept his burning, crimson-red claws upward toward the frost-clad armor.

Four blinding red light-trails traced a lethal arc, the aura-claws carrying intense heat and striking the target with terrifying speed.

Ice melted and snow dissolved. Under the searing claw-strike, the frost-clad armor’s body was no different from common ice; it was easily sliced open, and the cluster of ice elements sustaining it was utterly obliterated.

“Bang!”

The shattered upper torso slid off and crashed to the ground, leaving only the relatively intact lower armor standing in the snow.

The massive, scorching blade-claw continued to fly far into the distance after destroying the armor, its contained power forcibly tearing through the blizzard and creating a brief window of calm in the region.

“Incredible...”

Siren’s eyes were fixed on the searing claws that had pierced the storm. The power was shocking, yet it filled him with a new sense of anticipation for his own path. What if he, too, could stand at that height?

“Galle, let’s go. The blizzard hasn’t settled. After you destroyed that large ice-armor, other presences began approaching—likely things similar to that one, and in great numbers. Don’t get entangled with them. Take these two Alestlerians back and be done with it; our favor ends here.”

Rod spoke to Galle, who was slowly rising, his gaze piercing the snow toward the ruins. Galle sensed the new arrivals, and as the host of the Black Sun, Rod could perceive even more.

“...”

Galle said nothing. He turned, and his figure vanished from the sight of Johnson and Siren. They felt a sudden sensation of weightlessness as they were hoisted into Galle’s grasp. Siren managed to keep his composure, but the sight of the massive Johnson being dragged along, his arms and legs trailing on the ground, was somewhat comical.

“Unfriendly outsiders. Enemies. Do not let them leave.”

A voice emerged from the blizzard, identical to that of the frost-clad armor. A multitude of massive, humanoid figures approached from the distance. As they advanced, the blizzard, which had just begun to ease, erupted once more—and due to their sheer numbers, the intensity was stronger than before.

“What are these things? If the Alestlerians don’t handle this properly, they’re in for a disaster. Will we have to intervene again then?”

Rod sounded taken aback. Even his inner manifestation, the Black Sun, was beginning to be suppressed by the intensifying storm. If these things headed toward the Winter City where the Alestlerians were staying, the entire city would likely be swallowed and buried by the storm that froze all things.

“We’ll see. It is, after all, a city where we once lived. If the Alestlerians aren’t too pathetic, helping them once more wouldn’t be a burden.”

Galle replied casually, already sprinting across the snowfield with Siren and Johnson in tow, putting distance between them and the ruins. The power of those ruins was clearly more than it seemed, but...

To forcibly detain a legendary knight remains an arduous endeavor indeed.

Owing to their awkward posture, Johnson’s limbs were constantly battered by the debris of the trail as he was dragged along at a breakneck pace, and Ceron, though faring slightly better, suffered much the same fate; yet, a few bruises were a small price to pay compared to perishing in the blizzard, and besides, a knight is built to endure such trifles, possessing a hide as thick as iron.

The anomalies unfolding across the Saint Anna snowfields were, in truth, no isolated incident, for similar phenomena were manifesting with equal regularity upon the lands once held by the insurgent factions of the beast-kin civil war.