Forge a path to success.

Chapter 399 A Sky-Covering Rotten Wood
(What kind of divine support can be requested?)
(No. The Divine Tree is doing its utmost to support the city-state; we must rely on ourselves!)
The mental communication was completed instantly, requiring no further words; the two, who had fought side by side on the battlefield, understood each other's intentions. Trek moved continuously around the arena, testing the maximum binding distance of the vines. Banningtik flashed behind Parriman, raising his rapier, which gleamed like a jewel.

The Sword of Law, the embodiment of the legal system's concept of "punishing evil and promoting good," is a divine weapon with near-annihilation power over those who break the law. He had been away from the battlefield for a long time, yet his skills had never diminished. Extremely accurate thrusts pierced Parriman's head and back in succession. The Sword of Law's properties shattered the protective mental energy, while simultaneously inflicting a severe blow on You.

However, Parriman's wound healed rapidly, without even a bleed seeping out. Several more vines sprouted and swept towards him like a forest of spears, but Banningtik slashed them all down with his sword. Several layers of illusory "roots" broke through the ground beneath his feet, reaching for his spirit, only to suddenly vanish before they could grasp them. Trek, far away, pressed his compass and, at the last second, moved Banningtik away.

(Why is the Sword of Law ineffective?)

(He probably used the concept of "cluster" to evade punishment; direct punishment and sanctions based on detailed laws are not feasible.)
(Does the law not punish the masses...? So it was just a purely physical/energy attack?)
(Wait a minute.) Banningtik said, (The feeling is strange; his methods aren't that simple. Let's force him to reveal his true nature first!)

Banningtik and Trek leaped simultaneously, dodging the massive vines crashing down from above. The space behind Parriman distorted unnaturally, as if something was "overflowing" from his body, though its form was obscured, manifesting only as countless vines. These vines gathered and surged forward like a swarm of frenzied snakes. Trek teleported again, and the two appeared on either side of Parriman, crossing the sea of ​​vines.

Sharp wooden spears and razor-sharp daggers, two divine weapons aimed for vital points. Enhanced by the relics and divine power, their attacks were almost comparable to those of a unified path master of the same level, yet Parriman intercepted them simultaneously with both hands!

In that instant, he precisely discerned the flow of power between the moves, deciphering them with the precision of a secret eye. But this was practically impossible, because Parriman himself wasn't even an Ascended One. Even with the divine protection of being the Speaker, he shouldn't possess such exquisite skill.

“The commander-in-chief used his family’s swordsmanship, while you used the military’s spear fighting techniques,” Parriman said calmly. “I understand. I know your skills, so I will not lose.”

Parriman's movements were stiff and unnatural, as if he were being manipulated into fighting awkwardly, yet it was precisely these incongruous movements that blocked their attacks. He twisted his wrists in unison, the power flowing from his bones to his skin, pushing both of them away at the cost of his own damaged wrists. Then he flew vertically into the air, slamming down repeatedly with his badly injured arms.

The brutality of his movements made Banningtik frown; it was as if he were controlling a worthless puppet in battle. Yet, his attacks were extremely effective. Beneath the brutality lay remarkably precise movements, and his attacks, designed to damage the body, produced results that defied common sense.

"Your skills are quite unique, Speaker." Trek raised an eyebrow. "It's such a waste that you were only a lowly sergeant back then!"

"No need to be surprised, you all know perfectly well that this is nothing but a false power."

Parriman clenched his fists, ignoring his injuries, as if the pain had no effect on him. An invisible force gathered in his palms, transforming into a rusty, dirty gun.

"It is merely instilled knowledge, bestowed abilities, and the basic qualities of a vessel that must be possessed in order to accomplish a purpose."

"However, the will behind me is real. I will make you experience that... experience the determination I have for it!"

He gripped the rusty gun barrel tightly, using it to pierce his abdomen. A clear liquid flowed from the wound, seeping into the surface of the spear. The gun seemed to come alive, its tip vibrating violently and emitting a mournful cry!
"In mourning the fallen soldiers of yesterday!"

In an instant, pain struck.

Slash. Pierce. Scorching heat. Erosion. Limb shattered. Internal organs ruptured. Intracranial hemorrhage. A familiar yet strange agony appeared simultaneously, so profound that even Trek stopped in his tracks.

Parriman made no particular move; only the clanging of his spear continued unabated. Was it an illusion? A mental attack? Trek dismissed the idea, for he saw burn marks on the back of his hand. The agony inflicted by the spear was becoming a reality!

It was like demonic power. Trek pinpointed the source of his déjà vu. He shouted to Banningtik, "Unfinished Cursed Armament!"

"Wait three seconds!"

He and Banningtik teleported simultaneously, arriving a kilometer away—the maximum binding distance of the vines, discovered during previous tests. At this moment, the streets of Mansa Star Fortress were in utter chaos; numerous buildings swayed violently due to the movement of the divine tree, and dilapidated bungalows with weak foundations were on the verge of collapse. The people were already in dire straits, but the ensuing accidents further worsened the situation.

They saw nauseating black, rotting flesh, foul blood seeping from the cracked earth. The royal power, after corrupting the divine tree's core, had tainted it; now, the life force of the Thorn Robe was being stripped away, giving birth to countless hideous, fallen beings. These corrupted lives had entered Mansa Star Fortress, about to unleash their evil clutches upon the common people!
"Sorry, I can only give you 0.5 seconds...!"

Without hesitation, Trek plunged his gun into the earth, unleashing a wide-range divine spell with his captain's authority. A surge of life force flooded the ground, expelling the filth and promoting the growth of the divine tree's roots. The dense roots then erupted like a jungle, subjecting the fallen to a brutal, impaling execution.

Senluo Divine Art: Cleansing the Forest of Spears.

Miniature magic arrays appeared in large numbers, like flowers blooming at the top of a forest of roots. The Fallen were forced into the roots by the arrays, where they were purified and returned as life force. Trek's divine magic saved the civilians of the entire city, but he had no time to deal with the immediate threat.

In the blink of an eye, Parriman had caught up. He drew his dull spear from his body, and illusory "blood" splattered, manifesting in the air as a dense rain of weapons. Those weapons crashed down with cries and screams, and once touched by them, the materialized pain would shatter life!
"—Senluo Divine Art: Forbidden Divine Court!"

Like a painter applying paint to a canvas, colors transformed into tangible forms. A flash of green light, coinciding with Beningett's shout, materialized into a sturdy roof shielding the sudden downpour. A magnificent hall rose with the light, the forest of spears summoned by Trek meeting the light to form a solid foundation. In an instant, the temple sprang from the ground, a conceptual barrier blocking the onslaught of the dim spears.

This is the embodiment of the law's protective aspect, a "divine court" that isolates conflict and safeguards the innocent. Parriman's attack was temporarily halted, but neither of them could relax for even a second.

This man was astonishingly powerful. His defenses, capable of withstanding the wrath of the law, were formidable, but his offensive methods were equally ruthless. Even a single, pure strike using vines was beyond the capabilities of an ordinary point-value 5. If it weren't for Trek's ability to adapt to changing circumstances, he would likely already be smashed into a pile of corpses.

(Clerical staff quality point 6, huh? Kaoki, have you developed nearsightedness over the past 20 years?)
(You've had just as much dealings with Parryman as I have. May I ask, has Captain Trek's commander's insight ever been effective in these past 20 years?)
The two men tried to ease their tension by arguing, both feeling quite agitated. Their original plan was to rightfully remove Parryman from office after the trial, thus securing the repeal of the Independence Act after stripping him of his authority. However, they had both underestimated the power behind Parryman, a power so strong that it could directly influence all citizens. Even for a mere second, it would be enough to shatter their entire plan.

They did have backup plans, but those were only for extreme circumstances... After all, when such an "extreme condition" as the Divine Tree becoming independent occurred, the opponent had almost already achieved victory!
Trek calmed down first: (It doesn't matter if 17 billion people have been blind for 20 years, it doesn't matter to the two of us. Expand the temple, and then give me your oracle machine access.)
Banningtik adjusted his glasses: (What are you trying to do? Prove it and then give a "definition"? That's too risky!)

(Without a "definition," there's no weakness to be found, no way to counter it—are we just supposed to wait for both of us to be beaten to death?)
(But there are potential problems with doing this.)
"We can't even protect what's in front of us, so why are we thinking about the future!"

"You criticized Parryman, who held this view, just ten days ago, and now you're going to repeat the same mistake yourself?" Banningtik's eyelids twitched with anger. "Jas Trek, you bastard!"

Trek vanished, gun in hand, teleporting to Parryman's side. This bastard had actually put him in a dangerous situation, forcing him to choose, threatening to watch him die on the spot if he didn't give him the authority. That was Trek's character; once he made a decision, he acted immediately. Without this decisiveness, he wouldn't have been able to make the bloody decision to fight 20 years ago.

Left with no other option, Banningtik had to compromise and grant him access to his oracle. Trek's eyes lit up, feeling himself merge into an ocean of information. Regardless of the "proposition" being presented, the Point 6 Oracle of the Floating Light Path possessed unparalleled computational and analytical capabilities; using the oracle to decipher intelligence was far more efficient than attempting to do so directly. [Computational Power Allocation: Analyzing the Essence of Enemy Abilities]

He gave the order and brandished his spear. A rain of weapons, transformed from the dim army, crashed down, but Trek swiftly dodged them using his mobility. The tip of his spear pierced and shattered those weapons one by one, and the fragmented information streams were captured by the Oracle and pieced together to reveal the full picture of the ability.

[Curse: Recollection. An weapon created with the painful memories of the deceased as its core, capable of manifesting 'past tragedies' as an attack. Due to its unclear fundamental concept, it cannot be considered a cursed weapon.]

"Is it residual pain from the deceased...!"

Trek's thoughts were temporarily interrupted, and an invisible pressure reappeared, freezing his movements. This was an ability he had experienced many times before, so the oracle immediately gave its conclusion.

[Curse: A barbaric sound. The embodiment of preconceived notions, the collective sound of halting action.]

He gradually grasped the essence of the "cluster subconscious," but the current situation no longer allowed for further analysis. Parriman charged forward wielding his dim weapon, while a barrage of vine whips attacked simultaneously. A barbaric shout prevented the activation of his abilities; at this moment, he had no means of defense.

"You deserve to be scolded by your subordinates!"

Fortunately, Trek wasn't alone at this moment. Banningtik rushed out of the temple, using his sword of magic to intercept the dimming weapon and temporarily blocking the vines with the expanded temple foundation. "Now!" He abandoned his soon-to-be-formed attack spell to buy Trek time. Regaining consciousness, Trek seized the opportunity to strike, his spear tip piercing Parriman's chest!

【Curse &%￥#】

[Curse...%Binding...]

But it couldn't be analyzed! Unlike the previous methods, Parryman himself, who should have been the simplest, had become the biggest obstacle! Banningtik's support was about to end, and he only had a split second to make a decision. Trek decisively abandoned the retreat, teleporting himself and Parryman into the air, the tip of his spear piercing through the Speaker's body and emerging from his wound!

【———————— Curse: The False Hero】

Finally, the oracle reached a conclusion. And the truth behind that conclusion made Trek realize what a terrible mistake he had made.

This person is the contractor who carries the will.

Never give up until the goal is achieved.

The Blade of Deception broke, and Parryman suffered another wound, but like his previously destroyed arms, the severe injury to his chest did not affect his movements in any way. He threw his spear, piercing Trek's abdomen, and endless resentment flowed in, nearly shattering Trek's spirit.

Trek's face was covered in dense, twisted text, many of which crawled like worms down his eye sockets into his brain. His consciousness was severely damaged; he was almost unaware of his own existence. He felt himself being swallowed by something immensely large, becoming a part of it—

"Trek!"

Then, his interrupted consciousness returned. He lay in the middle of the temple, surrounded by the stench of blood. Banningtik clutched his chest; he had been struck by the Dim Soldiers, the necessary price to pay for rescuing Trek. But Trek had lost the ability to speak; he struggled to activate his consciousness, transmitting the information he had gathered to Banningtik.

Thus, the Captain-Commander accepted the message of the three curses. As the true form of the Oracle, he finally understood the other party's true nature.

"I see."

Banningtik's voice sounded somewhat mournful. He raised his magic sword, pointing it at Parriman in the distance.

“I am aware of your obsessions, and I have clearly identified your goals. Your wandering consciousness, which has been waiting to be named, is now given a ‘definition’ in the name of Banningtik, the captain of the Divine Guard of the City of Thorns.”

"You are born from the hearts of all the people of the Thorn Robe, and fulfill the wishes of all the spirits of the Thorn Robe. You are for the resentment of the dead for thousands of years, for the sorrow of the living for thousands of years, and for the desire to live of countless people throughout history."

Born from the remnants of a demon king from a thousand years ago, and formed from the obsession of Parriman, the hero of the present city-state. He is a demon of 'sole love,' resisting the end and seeking only survival!

Thus, the invisible force finally took shape.

The invisible enemy revealed itself before them.

It was a withered tree, as red as blood, its grain resembling a million weeping faces, its branches like countless withered hairs. The decaying tree stood behind Parriman, its canopy an invisible weight, its branches endless vines.

Parriman was nailed to that tree, like a sacrifice offered to the gods. He never needed to move on his own; countless dense vines bound his limbs, controlling him like a puppeteer to perform the many precise actions he had performed before.

He smiled, a smile of utter satisfaction. The "meaning" he carried had finally taken shape at that moment. So he slowly seeped into the tree, his voice drifting like a dream.

"A rotten tree that blots out the sky, a tyrant bound by the masses."

At this moment, the demon of exclusive love was truly born.

(End of this chapter)