Ethan disliked fighting with others, a habit formed over two decades before his transmigration. In the peaceful era before crossing over, fighting was a skill rarely used in daily life. He had seen too many people brawl together only to be taken into custody.
For modern people, battle is a distant and elusive concept.
Now, however, he was about to engage in his first true battle as an Elemental Shaper.
If he had to fight, he would prefer an overwhelming victory without suspense, believing that he didn’t need dramatic experiences in desperate situations in his life.
Upon his arrival, the man in black armor was somewhat surprised but quickly guessed his identity, "From the Reception Bureau? An A-level investigator?"
A hint of relief mixed in the man’s seasoned voice.
The man applied a bit of force with his right hand, pulling the massive sword from the ground, its sharp blade bathed in a bloody glow, its wailing echoing in the air. He turned, and Ethan was met with a chiseled, heroic face. A fierce scar ran from the left cheek to the right, crossing the bridge of his nose.
It was a mark of honor from countless battles; however, his eyes had become clouded, resembling those of gardeners, with irises almost the same color as his eyeballs, unlike the hawk-like sharpness described in novels.
"But if you had carefully read my message, you should know not to come here. That was my last piece of advice to you."
The man held the massive sword in one hand, pointing the blade at Ethan.
Even this simple action made the ground tremble, and roots rapidly grew around Ethan, blocking his path with thorn-covered brambles.
It seemed, this was the final ending of "Light Messenger Yakwell."
The once-glorious Kingdom Knight, founder of the Reception Bureau, was now clad in curse-tainted black armor, and the longsword symbolizing the Empire’s honor had become the Evil God’s soul-reaping blade.
Suddenly, Yakwell burst into laughter, a genuine laugh as if recalling the few beautiful things, "But how could you heed advice? Even knowing where the path leads, you march forward like moths to a flame, until your body is torn apart, and your soul is twisted!"
Ethan knew Yakwell was recounting his past.
Rather than a knight, his novel image more resembled an adventurer. After escaping from Level 3, everyone advised against returning to the polluted zone, and even the then King issued a ban, but he defied it, risking oath-breaking, and on one fateful night, boldly ventured into the polluted zone, never to be seen again.
Knight Yakwell, Investigator Yakwell, and now Servant of Bazatous Yakwell.
"But just being here itself explains much, and as a reward, feel free to ask your questions. I’ll do my best to answer your doubts, then send you on your way!"
Before reaching the third level, Ethan indeed had some doubts, but now he clearly saw the energy flow, converging toward the white flower, explaining it all.
This was a sacrificial ritual utilizing the souls of all Riverside Town residents to extract energy from those twisted souls, nurturing the white flower.
Mr. Marshall had mentioned that Isean was exceptionally talented, a born magician.
However, she was too young, far from a Great Mage, but in the eyes of the Evil God’s followers, she was undoubtedly an excellent vessel.
Miss Becky was not the ultimate beneficiary of the sacrificial ritual; the energy extracted from the soul was continuously absorbed by the massive sword in Yakwell’s hands, becoming one with him. As a knight awarded the Fourth-Order Medal before disappearing, this was to make him cross the final threshold.
The fallen Saint, spreading calamity as if the Evil God himself.
This was people’s verdict.
No need for further words, Ethan understood everything.
If he had to ask something else...
The unexpected question left Yakwell stunned. He hesitated for a moment and asked, "Ready for what?"
Astonishment turned into unrestrained laughter. He raised his sword with both hands and shouted, "Then as you wish!"
His gaze locked on Ethan, a thought away from decapitating him—this was originally intended for the Empire’s Knight Commander, but unexpectedly, someone else arrived first.
It would be swift, a painless death.
Yakwell’s toes touched the ground, his body becoming a shadow, but almost instantly, he flew backward even faster; the violent collision brought back a feeling of pain he hadn’t felt in a long time. Only then did he notice an ice wall had appeared between him and Ethan, blocking the cursed sword infused with the Evil God’s curse from crossing.
He instinctively looked at the massive sword, a layer of frost covering the eye on the blade’s edge, briefly cutting off energy supply.
Soon after, Yakwell’s attention was caught by golden fireflies floating in the air. At the moment he thought of dodging, a violent explosion sent him flying again, even with armor protection, more tearing wounds appeared on his body.
He saw the blood gush, and before the bloody energy could heal the wounds, a sharper pain emerged.
Another kind of energy flowed within him, sharp, easily piercing his flesh, with the blood inside betraying him, riddling his black armor with holes; in an instant, he was pinned with red thorns.
But so different from the Elemental Shaper in Yakwell’s understanding, he looked at Ethan with somewhat blurred vision.
Why could this Elemental Shaper skip the incantation process?
Knowing that the more powerful the spell, the more complicated the incantation, Elemental Shapers needed undivided focus, any small error could nullify the spell, for this reason, the Kingdom Army must assign a squad to protect Elemental Shapers on the battlefield.
But fortunately, his attack was effective too.
No matter how strong an Elemental Shaper was, they couldn’t escape a frail body; once the attack hit, the battle was over.
He saw two thorn-covered roots pierce from behind through Ethan’s chest, likely due to focusing too much on the offensive against him and neglecting the danger from behind.
Yakwell felt a bit relieved.
Luckily, this was the third level of the polluted zone; thankfully, he nourished this white flower with souls.
Next, he just had to wait for the Elemental shaping magic to dissipate, and Bazatous’ blessing would heal his body. This was his "Holy Sanctuary," no matter the severity of the damage, the divine spirit controlling death would grant him rebirth.
But soon, Yakwell noticed something unusual.
The body pierced by thorns did not fall forward as he had anticipated; there was no blood flowing from the dreadful wounds; Ethan still stood there. Yakwell saw a heart-stopping golden radiance continuously emerging from his chest.
He saw Ethan’s eyes also enveloped in golden light.
This led Yakwell to belatedly realize the purpose of pinning him with ice thorns was to render judgment like a sinner nailed to a pillar, instinctively causing him to look to the sky.
The firmament remained shrouded in blood mist, but beyond the blood mist, he could no longer find solace.
This led Yakwell to a terrifying hypothesis.
Ethan’s spell target was not him but the existence above the blood mist.
Something gathered above the clouds until a breach tore through the blood mist.
The golden radiance shone upon him.