Chapter 636: Dance of the Broken Knight
—Frey Starlight’s POV—
“Fall back, all of you. I’ll handle him.”
Advancing step by step, I said it curtly and pushed everyone away.
I hadn’t expected to see so many familiar faces here .. nor to find them taking on the Pontiff alone despite the gulf in tiers. That was reckless enough to get them killed…
At least I’d arrived in time to keep that from happening.
Most of them looked stunned to see me; no doubt everyone here still thought I was fighting on the Holy Island, unaware of what happened there. I’d explain later. For now…
that broken knight took priority.
“Face to face at last… Pontiff Sulyvahn.” I spoke clearly, and got nothing back but a scream.
He howled and charged me in rage.
“I see you can’t understand a word I’m saying.”
The Pontiff was blindingly fast; he reached me in a blink.
He tried to split me with a single swing, but I caught it on my blades, steel shrieking as metal ground against metal.
The moment I parried the first strike, he began windmilling that greatsword like a madman, trying to pulp me by brute force. There was no technique to it ..no swordsmanship ..just pure savagery. Updates are released by novel·fire.net
He was strong, yes, but I met everything he threw at me without trouble.
Standing toe-to-toe with him, I caught the faint glint of his eyes behind a dented, shattered helm.
“Demon blood has done a lot to you—rotted your mind and left you little more than an animal.”
The Pontiff flooded his blows with Aura, trying to force me back. I matched him, and the pressure between us blasted the ground apart.
In that clash of fields it wasn’t hard to tell who held the upper hand ..my Aura is SSS-tier, after all. But I kept it leashed; we were fighting in the middle of two armies tearing each other to pieces.
Normally, fighters at our level would clear the crowds to keep allies out of the splash zone. The Pontiff had no such thought… in truth, he had no thoughts at all—only instinct.
Every collision between us sent out shockwaves that chewed up anything too close.
Thankfully, my allies knew the score and supported from range.
Seris raised towering ice walls around us, turning the ground into a frozen arena. The walls weren’t strong enough to withstand our strikes, but she rebuilt them the instant we shattered them, shielding the soldiers outside.
“Good. I can cut loose a little without worrying too much.”
Leaving the side matters to the others, I drove at the Pontiff on his terms:
raw brutality, raw strength.
Pontiff Sulyvahn is an oddity even among SS+ fighters. No flashy techniques, no exalted forms ..just a beast relying on his body.
That made him far simpler to fight than most, his wild, savage swings easy to read.
Letting Shadow Adaptation absorb his patterns, I met him head-on with ease, my blades biting deeper into his guard with every exchange. He swept at me with that darkness-coated greatsword, trying to crush me ..but I turned him aside each time, sparks flaring as steel screamed.
“To be honest, Pontiff… I could end you with one sweeping strike. But somewhere in me, I find myself pitying you.”
Dodging his blows, ignoring the animal bellow in my face, I carved more and more into his armor.
For every strike of his, I answered with ten .. in speed and in force alike.
He couldn’t match me. I’ve climbed too far, and anyone beneath the absolute peak of SS+ no longer poses much danger.
Today, I’ll kill Pontiff Sulyvahn and rid the world of another Hollow.
But first, I wanted at least to try to reach the person buried under that monstrous shell.
“Lately, the lives around me don’t mean much ..least of all my enemies’…”
“If I claimed I cared now, I’d be nothing but a damned hypocrite.”
A brutal cut opened a huge gash across the Pontiff’s chest, filthy black blood oozing out.
“I know how hypocritical this sounds—but I can’t help asking, Pontiff… is there truly nothing left inside you but the beast you’ve become?”
This shattered knight this feral Hollow he was singular. I remembered him clearly; I’d even written about him once, and his story had stuck with me.
Seeing him here brought those memories roaring back.
I tried to reach him. He answered fast:
A bestial howl, a suicidal charge, a rabid need to kill me.
The Pontiff had been busy these past days, set loose on the battlefield like a rabid dog ..the Ultras’ blunt instrument for slaughter and ruin.
In recent days he’d taken scores of imperial lives and cut down many S-tier and above.
Simply put… ignoring him was no longer an option.
He screamed in my face, and I found myself smiling, almost understanding.
“I get it. So there’s no point in trying, huh?”
Midway through the clash between Frey Starlight and Pontiff Sulyvahn, for a heartbeat it felt as if the very air had grown heavier.
That’s what Frey said ..and with those words, everything changed, as if he had become someone else entirely.
He narrowed his eyes, tightened his grip on Balerion and Dark Sister, and let his true power surge.
Under that ominous pressure, even the Pontiff faltered ..his senses and instincts shrieking at him to flee from the man before him.
But it was too late. There was no turning back now.
“Ten Thousand Steps of Shadow: Supreme Art : Echo of the Abyss.”
Faster than sound, Frey hewed into the Pontiff, tearing open the knight’s chest.
His blades were wreathed in a baleful violet flame that pierced the Pontiff’s armor with ease.
Frey didn’t strike once. He moved again at the same blistering speed, trailing a violet afterglow behind him.
In the same manner he cut the Pontiff again, and again ..then a third time, a fourth, a fifth ..
until Sulyvahn hung caught inside a spider’s cocoon of violet Aura trails.
With his body taking the brunt of that devastating assault, blood erupted everywhere ..and the Pontiff bled hard.
But the blood that spilled wasn’t red at all. It was black, foul and rotten.
Frey kept carving, his speed climbing with every blow. The web thickened and thickened, its strands multiplying until they all converged on a single point:
the Pontiff’s body, which took everything.
Frey kept driving through him, too fast to stop.
Hemmed in, the Pontiff slashed wildly right and left, his bestial scream echoing across the field and dragging every gaze his way.
It was a scream of desperation and grief ..
the sound of a beast torn apart by a worse beast.
In a flicker, Frey severed the Pontiff’s right leg, sending him reeling, scarcely able to stand.
Frey was moving so fast that, from afar, he was a violet bullet circling his prey,
punching through him with every pass.
Another cut—and the Pontiff’s left hand fell away. The shattered knight’s appearance turned pitiful, and even his howling dwindled as he collapsed and writhed in the dirt.
Even down, Frey didn’t stop ..he kept running his circles, driving through him again and again.
Then, with one quick stroke, the helmet the Pontiff had worn for years spun away, revealing what lay beneath that iron shell.
In that instant, those close enough to see his face were stunned by what they saw.