Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 13 The Arrival of the Giant Beast

Harry was surprised, but the Duke of Langton, who was in the middle of the confrontation, was even more surprised.

Seeing his all-out attack so easily thwarted, Duke Langdon's pupils suddenly contracted, his brows furrowed into a deep frown, and his heart was filled with turmoil.

This is the war behemoth "Echidna"! More than a decade ago, I used this summoning spell to pass the duke's succession duel and become a duke. Back then, the "Echidna" I summoned was far less powerful than it is now, yet it directly defeated a standard level nine warrior. It can be said that my summon this time is far more powerful than an ordinary level nine warrior, yet it was neutralized by the opponent... with just a casual swing of sword energy.

What chilled her to the bone even more was that the Elf Prince had been on the verge of death just half a day ago, needing magic to breathe. Even though Archbishop Lawrence had forcibly suppressed the curse at the cost of his life, his face was still completely bloodless. Yet, even in this seemingly exhausted state, the power he displayed remained unfathomable.

Her solemn expression seemed to greatly please the elf prince. A pleased smile curved his lips as he softly asked, "So, are you still going to kill me?"

This almost mocking question was like a spark thrown into an oil slick, instantly igniting all of the Duke of Langdon's pent-up anger. "I shouldn't have saved you!" she practically spat out through clenched teeth. "If it weren't for Alexander's sake, I should have watched you be killed by the other elves in Plypinam Harbor!"

Harry, lying on the ground, was startled upon hearing this—Alexander? That was the former Duke of Langdon, and the deceased husband of the current Duke of Langdon. Could he have had some connection with this cruel elf before him? Harry used his fairly extensive geographical knowledge to find out that Plypunan was an inland port in a southern province, meaning the Duke had rescued the elf prince there. But this elf prince was being hunted by other elves? What on earth was going on?

The prince's smile grew even brighter, but his eyes held no warmth: "I never asked you to save me. As for that utterly foolish bishop... his behavior was utterly ridiculous."

"Archbishop Lawrence sacrificed himself to save you!" The Duke's voice trembled with extreme indignation. "How dare you..."

"The reason he chose to die," the Elf Prince interrupted her somberly, his voice suddenly turning cold and dangerous, "is because if I were to die, the calamity you would face would be a thousand times more terrifying than the ruins of this harbor today."

"Enough!" Duke Langton roared, his energy surging once more. "I don't care what happens in the future, no matter the cost, today you must die here to die with the people on this ship!"

A resolute glint flashed in the Duke of Langton's eyes. She abruptly raised her hand and grasped the ancient, black miniature sword on the necklace around her neck. With a forceful tug, the chain snapped and vanished into starlight.

The small black sword hovered in her palm, and the next moment—

hum!

With a clear, resonant sound, the black sword instantly shed its somberness, radiating a dazzling golden light as if sunlight pierced through darkness! The small sword continued to grow larger, transforming in an instant into a long, ancient-looking golden sword.

The Duke of Langton, dressed in that light gold floor-length gown, held a longsword meant for knights in his right hand—the image was utterly incongruous.

The golden longsword contained terrifying energy, clearly indicating it was no ordinary weapon. The moment the golden light was released, even from such a distance, Harry felt as if his body was being roasted, and even the magic circle on his already activated wand was buzzing, as if it were on the verge of collapse.

The stench of blood, the smell of burning, and even the pervasive sense of despair that he had sensed were all swept away by the aura of the longsword, as if an invisible hand had roughly "wiped" this world clean.

The murky mist, originally hanging low in the sky and mixed with blood and dust, melted and dissipated rapidly under the golden light, like snow meeting the blazing sun! In the blink of an eye, the sun reappeared in the sky, but the golden light of the longsword far surpassed that of the sun, turning the entire sky golden.

Just staring at it made Harry's eyes sting, as if his soul were being assaulted by mental magic. It was the instinctive fear of the weak facing absolute power. He had to continuously channel his magic to barely withstand the pressure.

Harry looked around; apart from those who had fainted, everyone else was fleeing. Miss Catherine slumped to the ground, tears streaming down her face, her eyes unfocused, clearly terrified.

But Harry didn't flee like the others. He knew perfectly well that running away was pointless against such power. Victory or defeat hung in the balance. If the Duke lost, whether he ran a few dozen meters or a few hundred meters, the outcome would remain the same.

As the golden longsword appeared, the nonchalant smile that had been lingering on the Elf Prince's face finally vanished.

His emerald eyes narrowed slightly as he looked directly at the golden longsword for the first time. The radiance flowing across the sword was not simple light, but a highly concentrated power of rules! The blood mist and energy residue that had previously ravaged the port were forcibly ordered and purified in the face of this pure radiance of rules.

He could clearly "hear" the surrounding space groaning under the sword's oppressive power. Because of the elven blood flowing through his veins, he was more sensitive to energy than humans, and thus perceived more deeply the terrifying, world-destroying power contained within the sword.

"So... this is what you rely on?" The prince murmured to himself, and a rare look of "gratitude" finally flashed across his usually indifferent eyes.

Duke Langton used her summoning spell again, the incantation bursting from her lips stiffly and rapidly, like plunging a hot iron into cold water, each word carrying a piercing plosive and a tearing guttural sound. The voice was not loud, but it was like molten lava suppressed to its limit, accumulating a fury that could incinerate everything.

As she chanted, the clear sky, purified by gold, was violently torn open, revealing a pitch-black rift resembling her own figure. Inside the cave, viscous black energy swirled wildly like boiling water.

Then, her speech suddenly quickened, like smoldering embers, words crackling and scattering like pebbles, her tone rising sharply, becoming shrill and piercing, almost bordering on a roar. The black hole also expanded with her incantation, its diameter increasing to tens of meters, and the black energy within it spun faster and faster.

Finally, just as the tone reached its highest point, the voice abruptly dropped, turning into a dangerous, threatening hissing whisper squeezed from between her teeth, each syllable seeming to be brutally crushed. At this moment, the black hole, several meters wide, stopped expanding, and the black energy within ceased its chaotic surge, instead settling down to become a lifeless, inverted black mirror lake.

The next second, on this inverted black lake, as if someone had thrown a stone into the middle, ripples spread outwards in concentric circles from the center.

Then, a gigantic claw covered in jet-black keratinous scales suddenly emerged from the still darkness! Just one of the claw's toes was the size of a warhorse!

The next second, the true form appeared!

The head burst forth from the darkness, its crimson eyes like two enormous bleeding spots, gazing down upon the minuscule masses. Then came its mountain-like shoulders and back, and those tattered, fleshy wings that blotted out the sky! Ominous black smoke flowed from its entire body, each breath accompanied by a mournful howl. Its colossal form nearly blocked out all light above the harbor, plunging daylight back into an almost eternal darkness.

Compared to the first summoning of "Echidna," it was more like the difference between a cub and an adult. This time, it was no longer a semi-transparent phantom, but possessed an almost complete physical form, as if stepping into reality from the oldest nightmare. The tyrannical pressure originating from the primordial era no longer acted on the senses, but directly on the rules—space around it distorted and wailed.

The colossal beast lowered its mountain-like head, aimed at the elf prince in the air, and let out its first roar after its arrival.

The prince remained unmoved, casually swinging his sword as before. However, the once invincible silver sword energy was shattered like smoke the instant it came into contact with the sound waves!

A hint of seriousness finally appeared in his eyes; clearly, the beast's strength far exceeded his expectations.

Faced with the overwhelming destructive sound wave, he did not hesitate. He swiftly swung his wrist twice in succession, and two more condensed sword energies, like overlapping crescent moons, roared out. Finally, amidst the deafening roar, they tore open a gap and barely neutralized the deadly sound wave.

Nevertheless, the dissipated sound waves still contain enormous energy.

The remaining shockwave transformed into a devastating shockwave that swept across the ground in all directions.

The stone slabs on the ground cracked inch by inch from the violent tremors, and smaller pebbles were swept into the air. Trees as thick as bowls were snapped in half or uprooted, as if trampled by an invisible giant foot. The closest survivors suffered the most, their ears and noses bleeding from the shock, clutching their heads and curling up on the ground, emitting silent whimpers of pain.

At the same time, Harry, who was struggling to hold on, heard a crisp cracking sound from his hand—the earth elemental defensive magic circle on the magic staff groaned under the impact, instantly overloaded and collapsed! Almost at the same time as the magic circle collapsed, he heard an even crisper cracking sound, and saw that the dragon turtle magic core, which was the energy source of the magic circle, was covered with cracks, and then it was completely shattered!

He quickly cast a level three defensive magic shield, but the shield had barely lit up when it vanished silently, like a candle flame blown out by the wind.

Fortunately, the wooden silk mage robe he was wearing successfully withstood the final energy damage.

However, the pure physical impact that followed was a resounding slam. Harry felt as if he had been struck head-on by an invisible battering ram, his entire body thrown back and crashing heavily into a pile of rubble some distance away. He felt as if his internal organs had been dislocated, a sweet taste rose in his throat, and he couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of blood, which splattered onto his gleaming black mage robes.

All defensive measures became a joke in the face of this roar; their only value was to make Harry realize more clearly how insignificant and powerless he was.