Night Journey

Chapter 143 Hunting
The night Cillian wandered into a dark alley, he was shot by a powerful enemy of rank three.

Tonight, facing Darren's fatal shot, Cillian was almost certain that he had encountered Darren.

Then it all makes sense.

Darren has always been deeply entrenched in the Watergate system, disguising himself as a reclusive research madman to lull everyone into a false sense of security. But when necessary, he will emerge at night to serve the Claws.

That's why Darren has such rich combat experience, and even more so, he secretly advanced to Rank 3 without anyone noticing.

For Hel City, Rank 3 is already the pinnacle of power. To avoid potential crises, the extraordinary materials used to advance to Rank 3 are subject to strict supervision.

It can be said that all the current third-ranked individuals in Hull City are on record.

"Haha, this is getting interesting!"

Amid Darren's distorted laughter, the breached river water poured into the observation area, causing the river level to rise rapidly.

The surging torrent crashed violently against the twisted steel grille, creating murky white foam and a deafening roar. Icy water vapor filled the entire space, submerging ankles and rapidly spreading upwards.

By now, the group had long forgotten the spirit craftsmen's instructions, and even when they did remember them, all they could think of were complaints.

Why were the spirit craftsmen completely oblivious to Darren's unusual behavior? Why did they allow him to advance to Rank 3? And why, even with the battle raging so fiercely, did no spirit craftsmen come to his aid?

Either these spirit craftsmen are deaf and can't hear the endless rumbling from underground, or they are somehow connected to the Claws and have already betrayed them.

Cillian suspected it was the latter.

He was unsure of the condition of the other areas of Watergate Fortress; at least in this observation area, the festering was deep-seated.

Amidst the piercing sirens, the river water rose above everyone's calves, greatly reducing their mobility.

"Come again!"

The metal grille beneath Darren's feet could no longer support him, and he plunged into the water with it. Before the huge splash had subsided, the scarlet electronic eye lit up in the murky water, locking onto the three people on the grille platform.

Anya moved nimbly, and with a few leaps, she climbed up a protruding metal pipe high up.

With her toes gripping the slippery, cold iron wall, she threw two scorching swords without hesitation, each accompanied by a piercing shriek, aiming precisely at Darren who was rising from the water.

The first fire sword pierced the water and struck Darren's body.

The terrifying heat instantly ignited, and the fireball, carrying molten iron filings, spread out with a roar. The scorching air and metal fragments flew in all directions, making a dense, rain-like crackling sound.

Darren's offensive was abruptly interrupted by Anya. Immediately afterward, the second fire sword struck again, exploding into a dazzling burst of light. Molten slag rained down, further interfering with his perception and actions.

"Well done!"

Dai Lin's muscles were bulging, and the grille beneath his feet groaned under the weight.

Ignoring the blades covering Darren's body, he seized the critical moment and crashed into Darren's arms, who was unbalanced due to the explosion.

The iron fist adorned with brass knuckles now seemed to transform into a siege hammer, unleashing terrifying wind pressure as it pounded heavily and relentlessly onto Darren's armored chest and abdomen plates with one punch, two punches, and three punches.

Thump! Snap! Squeak—!
Each hammer blow was accompanied by a chilling metallic cracking sound.

This is not an ordinary boxing match, but rather the trait of the second rank of the Throne of Destiny, the Anvil Throne: Shock.

Daelin's energy-filled strikes will generate deadly shockwaves that can ignore armor and shatter internal organs when they hit flesh and blood, and can also penetrate heavy defenses to destroy the intricate internal mechanical structures when they strike mechanical creations.

In the blink of an eye, the heavy armor plates were visibly twisted, collapsed, and shattered under Dailin's relentless bombardment.

The massive hydraulic rod was brutally bent, exposing the sizzling precision pipelines beneath. Weld scars tore like centipedes, splattering a viscous liquid mixed with machine oil and dark red blood.

"Ha ha!"

Daelin mimicked Cillian's mannerisms, letting out a terrifying laugh.

He grabbed the exposed cable and tore it apart with tremendous force, causing it to snap with a crackling sound and flashing with dangerous electrical sparks.

Darren's steel body trembled violently under the continuous impact, his joints emitting a piercing groan, as if it would fall apart completely at any moment.

"Not bad, but how many more punches can you throw?"

Darren was clearly not new to encountering an opponent like Dalyn, and his tone remained calm.

Although Daelin's offensive was terrifying, it never managed to harm Darren's flesh and blood.

Moreover, each of Daelin's attacks consumes a large amount of source energy, and when he catches his breath, that's when Darren's counterattack will begin.

"I really can't swing it anymore."

Dailin gave a tired smile. "But don't forget, I'm not alone."

As soon as he finished speaking, a figure darted out, tearing through the swirling steam and smoke. Ciri's boiling killing intent was almost tangible as he charged forward against the raging torrent. The boiling sword in his hand was already scorched to its limit, emitting a suffocatingly high temperature that distorted even the surrounding air.

"Fall down!"

With a shout loud enough to drown out the roar of the torrent, the Boiling Sword drew a perfect, scorching arc in the air, like a hot knife through solidified grease, and slashed with unparalleled precision into Darren's armored neck joint.

In an instant, the extreme high temperature melted through the sturdy metal neck guard, turning it into molten iron that splashed out.

Ciri gripped the sword with both hands, unleashing a surge of power, and pushed forward inch by inch, resolute and ruthless.

And so, with a deafening metallic tearing sound, the hooded head, gleaming with a scarlet light, was brutally severed from its still-struggling, bloated body amidst splattering oil, sparks, and evaporating steam.

The skull was thrown high into the air, the cross-section was clean, and the pulled-out threads were clearly visible, making it impossible to tell whether they were nerves or some kind of implant.

Ciri breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't expected that the combined efforts of the group would actually be able to kill a Mech Soul Master.

But the next second, his nerves tightened, because the Ouroboros Seal did not bring joy; on the contrary, it still stung and burned.

Ciri looked up. The grotesque head had not fallen into the cold river. Beneath the peeled skin, there was no bright red flesh, only the same cold metallic luster.

Anya stood on high ground and murmured, "He removed all his flesh and blood, except... except his brain tissue."

A piercing electronic sound emanated sharply from the broken neck.

"Flesh and blood will eventually decay, but steel will endure forever!"

The chaotic power that Darren had deliberately sealed away erupted like a boiling black tide at this moment.

Spiritualists like Darren, who only retain brain tissue, are not uncommon, but they all have complex life support systems in order to maintain the vitality of their brains.

Cillian thought that his sword strike would at least destroy the life support system, causing Darren's brain death.

But under the protection of the power of chaos, Darren has long since transcended this limitation.

The blasphemous power that distorts reality has replaced the life support system and become the sole lifeline for this mad brain.

The head, defying logic, hovered slightly in the air as jet-black lightning struck the headless body, attempting to reconnect.

"Source Energy! Consume his Source Energy!"

Dailin coughed up blood and roared. He saw hope, but also a greater danger. "He only has his head left! Drain him!"

Darren can't maintain this form for long. If they can hold on, they will be the winners.

Cillian responded with action.

He lunged forward frantically, grabbing Darren's head with both hands and slamming them together into the icy torrent.

The turbid river water instantly submerged Cillian, and the chaotic power wantonly invaded his body and mind. Countless crazy hallucinations flashed before his eyes, and all sorts of suffocating sensations filled his senses.

This won't defeat him, or even affect him.

Cillian gripped the struggling head tightly with both hands, pressing it firmly against the riverbed filled with silt and gravel.

The Ouroboros sign leaped with joy, and his eyes blazed with brilliant golden light.

"Do you think you're a reverse-falcon?!"

Ciri swallowed the icy river water and growled indistinctly.

Of all the formidable enemies he had faced, only the Reverse Falcon had brought Cirion an almost suffocating suppression, leaving him with no way to retaliate, let alone activate his blessing.

And now, facing Darren, who is now just a head, it is time to cheer!

Blessings and hatred.

Ciri recklessly ignited the soul essence within his body, his hands transforming into two red-hot irons, the brilliant golden light shining through the cold river water, casting an eerie glow upon the surroundings.

sizzle-

Unimaginable high temperatures erupted inside the skull. The icy river water came into contact with the scalding metal, producing a dense hissing sound like popping beans, and a large number of bubbles surged up wildly.

Darren screamed hysterically, convulsing and trembling violently and epilaboriously within Cillian's iron grip. His scarlet prosthetic eye flickered wildly and erratically like a faulty light bulb, before finally exploding completely with a "snap."

The outer wall of the skull quickly turned red, shiny, softened and deformed. Through the skull, it was as if one could hear the brain tissue inside being boiled and expanded alive under high-temperature steam.

Suddenly, Darren's screams stopped abruptly, and the surging source energy and chaotic power fell into a long, deathly silence.

Cirian released his grip, and the scorching, deformed metal head sank to the dark riverbed like scrap metal.

(End of this chapter)