Night Journey

Chapter 28 Summer Illusion
Since Cirien could remember, the Lighthouse of Light has stood atop White Cliff like a guardian.

Its existence has long transcended the building itself, becoming an eternal mark flowing in the blood of the townspeople—as natural as the rotation of the sun and moon, and as unshakable as the changing of the seasons.

until today.

The crimson sun suddenly collapsed into a red spear, and as this forbidden light pierced the sky, the entire lighthouse crumbled and disintegrated amidst a roar.

The Soul Essence Fire burst forth as rain, and shattered bricks and stones, accompanied by black smoke, soared into the sky, turning half the sky into a chaotic vortex.

Cillian's pupils trembled violently.

The bricks and stones once considered eternal are now turning to dust beneath our feet, and the undying light in our memories is falling into the abyss along with the countless sparks in the sky.

Without the refusal of the Lighthouse, the surging gray fog, like a breached dam, rushed towards White Cliff Town, with the figures of demons appearing and disappearing, emitting terrifying howls.

"Ha ha!"

The laughter of the Deathbird echoed through the chaos, followed by more mixed, manic laughter rising and falling in the gray fog, as if the chaotic evils who had been watching coldly were also caught up in a frenzy at this moment.

"Toren! Tania! What are you waiting for?"

As the Deathbird gave commands, it swooped down toward Nunn before it, its soul fire igniting on its sword and dagger, but the light was devoid of warmth, only a deep, chilling coldness.

Toren took a deep breath, glanced at Nunn, who was engulfed in flames, picked up his longsword, and disappeared into the mist.

Tania chuckled softly, then skillfully picked up a dagger and slashed her wrist, blood dripping down.

The moment she closed her eyes, stardust-like cracks burst forth from the depths of her pupils. When she opened them again, her pupils had turned into a chaotic gray-white mist.

A vast amount of primal energy surged forth from Tania's body, transforming into countless silver-blue veins that wove a flowing star map in the gray mist. Each thread precisely pierced the skulls of the demons, refining them into new nodes.

"May the Most High have mercy on this feast."

Before Tania could finish speaking, the energy network suddenly exploded.

The gray fog, like the gaping maw of an abyss, blotted out the sky and the sun. The outline of White Cliff Town was twisted and dissolved in the fog, dragged into the abyss of absolute darkness along with the starlight. Only the mournful cries of countless souls could be heard from the depths of the fog.

Darkness descends.

The biting cold frosted over Ciri's body, only to be melted and evaporated by the smoldering soul essence within him.

Tania successfully enhanced the gray zone of this area through sacrificial rituals and the power of her own destiny, achieving an effect similar to the Night of the Tides.

Thick darkness divided the battlefield, and Cillian could only vaguely see two blurry flames: the former was Nun, who was still fighting the Deathbird, and the latter was the burning White Cliff Town.

Besides, Cillian could see nothing in the Gray Zone, and even Tania, who caused all of this, had long since disappeared without a trace.

A low, bloodthirsty groan rose from all directions, and Cirion instinctively swung his longsword, severing a series of heads in the process.

Suddenly, a stream of fire cleaved through the darkness, roaring and burning its way through, turning any demons in its path to ashes. It surged straight forward, crashing into the crumbling high wall and exploding into a massive fireball.

Following the direction from which the fire was coming, Ciri saw the two demons fighting. They moved swiftly, leaving behind lingering afterimages in their wake.

After a delay of about one second, a metallic crack resounded, and sparks flew everywhere.

Nunn's sword strikes were fierce, and a deafening metallic hiss erupted from his body. The Deathbird's body twisted and deformed, like a shattered illusion.

The battlefield had become a dead zone. Anything that dared to step into it would be shattered into fine dust by the deadly sword strikes, mixing with the ashes and turning into dust that no one would bother with in the shadows.

The returning gray fog obscured Cillian's vision, and at the same time, the light of the Path of Fire was rapidly fading.

Ciri understood Nunn's intention, gritted his teeth, and sprinted along the path of fire.

The worst-case scenario has finally come to pass.

Chaos invasion.

The Deathbird was clearly prepared. First, it unleashed the so-called evil power, destroying the Lighthouse in one fell swoop. Then, the woman named Tania summoned the Chaotic Gray Mist, driving countless demons to besiege White Cliff Town.

Nunn was held back by this mortal enemy who had come from afar, and all hope rested on Cirion alone.

Ciri quickly returned to defend White Cliff Town. Although the Lighthouse had collapsed, White Cliff Town still had a certain amount of Soul Essence in reserve. As long as they were ignited, it would be enough to protect the survivors.

A cold, sharp blade emerged from the gray mist, and Cirion instinctively stepped aside.

It interrupted Cillian's thoughts and left a faint scratch on his cheek.

A few seconds later, Cillian felt the pain on his cheek. If he hadn't dodged in time, the sword might have severed his head.

"Oh? You're very perceptive."

A mocking voice rose from the darkness, and Toren emerged from the gray mist, his sword blade wreathed in cold flames.

“Those who break their oaths…”

Cillian decisively thrust his longsword straight at Toren's heart.

In Toren's mind, killing Cillian would not be difficult. Although they were both first-rank torchbearers, he had more combat experience than Cillian, and he also had the power of chaos hidden within him.

Just before the two blades were about to clash, Toren smelled the burning, acrid odor and... the scent of blood swirling in the air!
A burst of brilliant firelight rose between the two, completely obscuring Cillian's figure as he thrust his weapon.

That was Cillian's blood, and the flames from the fire obscured Toren's vision.

Toren retreated hastily, knowing that Cillian would not let this opportunity to attack slip by, and that his blade would surely pierce through the firelight to press his advantage.

The cold metal pierced the flames like lightning, just as Toren had predicted.

A mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips, and he burst into laughter.

"Innocent!"

Toren thrust his sword swiftly toward the end of the longsword.

However, a strange thing happened: the sword went straight into the firelight, but it seemed to have pierced into the void, without touching any solid object.

Just then, Ciri crouched low and burst out of the flames.

He threw his longsword ahead of time, just to confuse Toren's judgment.

In the blink of an eye, the distance between the two shortened dramatically. Cillian charged at Toren like a bull, the enormous impact knocking him to the ground.

Cillian straddled Toren, raised his iron fist, and smashed it with tremendous force into Toren's face.

With a "crack," Toren's nose collapsed, teeth flew out, and blood instantly blurred his vision.

Cillian roared, "What have you bastards done!"

Toren's face was a bloody mess. He tried to curse, but his mouth was filled with broken teeth and blood, and he could only make meaningless whimpers.

The excruciating pain overwhelmed Toren, and his survival instinct made him release his grip on the sword.

He gripped Ciri's wrists tightly with both hands, desperately trying to deflect his fists, while simultaneously curling his legs up and kicking Ciri hard in the abdomen. Ciri cried out in pain, his body arching slightly backward.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Toren rolled to his feet, not bothering to wipe the blood off his face, picked up his sword again, and swung it at Cirion.

Cillian also retreated, picked up his longsword, and the two separated, facing each other and panting heavily.

There were no words spoken, and no warning whatsoever.

The soul essence within Ciri was burning intensely, light overflowed from his blood vessels, and a pure white light shone from his eyes.

The same change also occurred to Toren, except that as the fireworks blazed higher, his body underwent a chaotic transformation, like a demon.

Fine scales grew rampantly, ribs bulged, tearing through clothing to form two swollen abscesses, inside which something seemed to be wriggling. Then, a pair of bloody arms burst out of the body.

"I've always been curious about what the Torchbearers, who can resist chaos, would look like after being corrupted by chaos."

Faced with such a terrifying anomaly, Ciri spoke.

"Now that I look at it, it's really ugly, like a dried lizard that's been exposed to the sun and is covered in maggots. Only demons would be willing to date you."

Toren didn't quite understand Cillian's sarcasm, but he still sensed the full force of the attack in his words.

He didn't care about the sarcastic remarks, just as there was no need to get angry with a dead person.

Torun let out a terrifying laugh.

With blood-red arms reaching into his chest cavity, a chilling sound rang out as Toren snapped two blood-streaked ribs, their sharp, deadly ends resembling a pair of white bone daggers.

"How sad."

Cillian looked at him with pity and shook his head.

Toren was thoroughly enraged by Cillian's arrogant attitude.

He rushed over, and several sharp beams of light crashed down on Ciri, causing blood to splatter from his body and a burst of dazzling flames.

Strangely, these fireworks were not intensely hot; on the contrary, wherever they went, a thin layer of frost formed on the ground and walls, just like the gray mist filled with chaotic power.

If soul marrow can resist the invasion of chaos, then corrupted soul marrow, on the contrary, amplifies the power of chaos, further strengthening it in reality.

Torren yelled, "Stop struggling, kid!"

The two danced in the gray mist, each strike carrying a ruthless intent to kill the other.

Toren's wound continued to bleed, staining his clothes red, but his eyes grew increasingly fierce, like a wounded beast that became even more dangerous.

Cillian's breathing gradually quickened, and sweat slid down his cheeks, dripping onto the ground with a soft sound.

He spotted an opening in Toren's defense, suddenly changed his move, and slammed his knee into Toren's chest. Toren couldn't dodge in time and was forced back several steps. He felt a sweet taste in his throat and almost spat out a mouthful of blood.

A loud bang and a cloud of gray mist swept in from one side. Before the two could dodge, a surging heat wave swept over them, knocking them over and pinning them to the ground, where they were scorched and carbonized by the intense heat.

The terrifying heatwave lasted for more than ten seconds before slowly subsiding. Cillian collapsed to the ground, his body wracked with unbearable pain, his consciousness blurred and dizzy.

"damn it……"

Ciri forced himself to stand up. His exquisite clothes were now tattered and soaked in blood, and his neatly combed hair was a mess.

He searched for Torun's location but found nothing.

Suddenly, a chill crept up Cillian's spine.

For a moment, chaotic hallucinations flashed before Ciri's eyes, and murmured whispers lingered in his ear.

Toren appeared silently behind Cillian. The heatwave scorched his body, causing it to become covered in blisters, and a bloody arm was broken off, with blood gushing from the wound.

Despite being in a sorry state, Toren had won. Cillian had been captured by the power of Chaos, and even if he had the ability to break free, that brief moment was enough for him to drive the bone spike into Cillian's heart.

The spikes pierced Cirion's flesh and pressed against his bone.

“Bell…”

Cillian suddenly uttered an unfamiliar name, turned his head, and glanced at Toren out of the corner of his eye.

"This name belongs to the first demon I killed."

Toren's movements inexplicably slowed down. The bone spur, which was just a little further forward, was about to pierce Cillian's heart, but it stopped strangely.

The dense sound of ice cracking came from Cillian's body, and the chaotic power surrounding him was rapidly weakening under some unknown force.

Through countless blood sacrifices by demons, the Ouroboros Seal gave birth to Cirion's anger, hatred, and resentment.

It was almost bursting into flames, just a tiny spark away.

All things evolve and give rise to new forms...

A golden light flashed in Ciri's eyes, followed by the sound of ice cracking.

In an instant, Ciri broke free from the shackles of chaos. His longsword clashed with the blades from bottom to top, sparking dazzling flames.

This was a strike where the soul essence was completely burned, like an engine running at overload.

The burst of force severed the blocking bone spikes, deflected the swinging sword, and even left a bloody gash on Toren's neck.

Toren was so shocked that he staggered backward.

"How can it be?"

Torren watched this scene in disbelief. How could Cillian, merely a Tier 1 Torchbearer, possess such powerful Chaos Resistance?

Cillian did not answer, but responded with a heavy punch.

The iron fist slammed down along the wound on Toren's neck, with such force that half of the fist burrowed into the wound.

“I will remember your name, Toren.”

Ciri brutally probed into the wound, his five fingers piercing through flesh and fascia, gripping the bone.

The ouroboros mark shone brightly in his palm, and the flowing blood burned along with it.

A burst of flame spread from his palm, igniting his fist and setting Toren ablaze.

"Cillian roared in fury at Torun's piercing scream."

"You will be the first oathbreaker I kill!"

Cirion kicked Torren's body aside and beheaded him with his longsword.

(End of this chapter)