The Holy Grail War Blessed by the Gods

Bai Mao revealed a joyful expression, and pink mist spread out from the side, already surrounding Tristan.

"Hmm...? What is this fog?"

The sudden appearance of fog surprised Tristan.

"I am the serene Hassan, the poisonous flower blooming in the night, and this area is now filled with my poisonous mist."

You did not suppress Lord Baimao; you were merely being manipulated by Lord Baimao and Lord Zhouwan.

They started this fight so you wouldn't notice the toxins attacking your body.

Hassan, who was constantly emitting poisonous gas, stepped forward and spoke.

"Poison, you said poison...you, towards me...!"

"That's right, there is no blonde Isolde here! Tristan, Knight of the Round Table! You, the undefeated archer, died from poisoning, betraying a woman only to be betrayed by that woman!"

For a heroic spirit like you, poison is an inescapable fate. Didn't you yourself say it? "The fate of the white-handed (Isolde) has finally caught up with and saved you!"

Hassan the Hundred-Faced was excitedly proclaiming his verdict, and the last three clones rushed forward, ready to take Tristan's life.

Bai Mao left only one clone outside to complete the work, so there are actually only four bodies left here, including the original body.

"Oh dear. This is so sad."

Tristan shook his head and let out a merciless sigh, his body still plucking the strings of the magic bow despite being bathed in poisonous gas.

"careful!"

Hassan the Cursed Arm didn't lower his guard much, and upon seeing this scene, he immediately rushed forward.

The three clones of the Cursed Arm were instantly sliced ​​apart, while the remaining Vacuum Arrows that were flying toward the Hassans were blocked.

“Eh…!?”

Quiet Hassan looked at Tristan, who was still able to move normally, with a puzzled expression, and at the obviously inhuman arm extending from Cursed Arm Hassan.

"Why? This is definitely a lethal dose. I shouldn't be wrong about toxic substances..."

"Hmph...8...Hehe, it's really sad. Maybe I should act more like Liu, let you guys be smug and then wipe you all out in one fell swoop."

Tristan was quite dissatisfied with not being able to kill Hassan and his men directly, and only let out two soft laughs.

"It seems you are not yet aware of my blessing. The blessing I was given is reversal. Although it was meant to make me a beast without any confusion, its characteristic is to reverse anything. So for me now, only poison is completely ineffective."

Your desperate plan has been a waste of effort; perhaps dying in ignorance would have been a more painless end. But now you can only die with regrets, which is truly heartbreaking.

Tristan explained nonchalantly that it was simply to let the Hassans in front of him celebrate their futile efforts.

Neither Bai Mao nor Jing Mi is of any use now. All that's left is a cursed arm. What can it change? The insects will soon be wiped out.

"Our strategy has been in vain. Luckily, I didn't hesitate, otherwise I would be stuck here feeling resentful."

Cursed Wrist ⑨ retracted his other arm, which was his left arm, while his right arm, which should have been connected to Satan's arm, remained a normal arm.

But when he rescued Bai Mao and Jing Mi, the arm suddenly swelled into the limbs of a beast.

The arm, clearly resembling an eagle's talons, expanded at a terrifying speed, knocking away the invisible arrows.

“Hundred-faced, Tranquil, you two go and join Arash and the others. I will leave this place to you alone. I have obtained power from the King, and I am afraid you might accidentally hurt each other if you stay here.”

Hassan's body is changing. Although his club-shaped alien right hand is already a very special thing, Hassan's cursed arm still retains a human appearance, only his right hand is unique.

But now, from beneath his black cloak, from his jet-black body, the hair is constantly swelling, growing, and transforming into the feathers of a raptor.

His feet, which were standing on the ground, were also undergoing a transformation, with his majestic golden mane and lion's feet turning into the lower half of Cursed Wrist.

Beneath the newly grown fur and feathers, the dragon's scales stand up one by one, forming a defensive shell.

The white skull mask also fell silently, and the bull's horns and majestic body swelled up in silence.

Seeing the terrifying transformation of the cursed wrist, the horrifying difference between human and non-human, Bai Mao and Jing Mi knew the truth of what the other said and chose not to stay.

They can't be of much help here; in fact, they might become a burden. As assassins, they still possess rationality.

"It is truly tragic that you have fallen from human form to beast form in your quest for power, transforming into a monster like a chimera. But even so, the outcome is clear: you cannot defeat me."

Hassan's body emanated a terrifying aura, but Tristan remained calm and continued to pluck the strings to fire arrows.

"I once longed to become a modern-day mountain hermit, but no matter how much effort I put in, it was still not enough, because my body is just mediocre."

But since this body is just mediocre, then a useless arm is nothing.

The cursed arm lifted him up, removing his white skull mask. Horns sprouted from his head, transforming him into a beast-like creature, unable to make any expression, only looking at Tristan.

An arrow in a vacuum can cut off feathers and sever hairs, but it only leaves a white mark on the black scales.

“This barren land is where I live, and the people on this land are the people I love. This is my everything, so it is no harm to offer up this mediocre body as a sacrifice.”

Hassan of the Cursed Arm possesses the ability to modify himself, connecting other bodies to his own to transform into an alien form to compensate for his lack of power.

Upon returning, Hassan, feeling utterly exhausted, showed no mercy to his own body.

With Manjus's consent, Hassan the Cursed Arm transplanted many of the fantastical body parts he had imagined while strolling in the courtyard onto his own body.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: The End

Hassan, transformed into a beast, moved with incredible speed. Tristan felt only the pressure of a massive object approaching, and instinctively pulled on the strings to dodge to the side. 9

"Bang!"

The chimney where Tristan had stood was gone; the chimney and roof had been destroyed. Death.

At this moment, Hassan of the Cursed Arm had transformed into a colossal beast that should not exist, impossible for it to tread upon this land. ⑧

It would be perfectly acceptable to name the monster from ancient Greek and Babylonian legends after it, the Chimera. (4)

The terrifying speed brought deadly damage; the immense speed and mass created a hurricane powerful enough to destroy even houses. 2.

The invisible arrow shot from Tristan's hand seemed powerless at this moment; besides leaving behind golden fur and raptor feathers on the ground, could it really achieve anything more? Nine

Tristan gazed at Hassan, the Cursed Arm, who had transformed from a human into a colossal, gigantic beast. This monster, a fusion of various creatures, exuded a sense of solemnity and holiness.

Tristan quickly shook his head, banishing the unrealistic thoughts from his mind, and without the slightest hesitation, drew back the bowstring, unleashing the magic bow's attack. 5.

Tristan put aside his contempt and regarded the man before him, who was determined to become a monster, as a true enemy.

"Can you still be called human after transforming into this form? Even if you wanted to return to the people you protect, they probably wouldn't recognize you anymore. Why go to such lengths?!"

Tristan asked as he moved around.

In this city, Tristan still has quite a bit of room to maneuver.

Like an old hunter in the jungle, the city is Tristan's jungle, where he can plot and unleash his full power.

However, setting things up always takes time, so saying a few more words to distract the enemy and buy time for oneself is not an ineffective tactic.

"I think I've made myself clear. I don't care about other countries, nor do I care what kind of ideal country you want to build."

I simply love the people who live on this land. We were born for this, and we will die for this. This is the original precept of us old people in the mountains…

As he responded, Hassan the Cursed Arm ravaged everything in his path.

The street where the two had been standing had been completely reduced to ruins, and the affected area was constantly expanding.

The pristine white buildings of the Holy City could be destroyed with a mere passing movement by the Cursed Arm Hassan; even solid stones crumbled like sand, and everything was destined to be twisted by the shockwaves.

These sharp teeth and claws, obtained from the behemoth, possess unimaginable destructive power, sweeping at extremely fast speeds, combining strength with terrifying agility.

Tristan can only constantly dodge and weave between walls and rooftops, avoiding all attacks while creating opportunities for counterattacks.

His opponents were not real beasts, but living, breathing people.

The old man in the mountains, who had endured countless hardships and tribulations, had developed formidable skills.

Even though Tristan's eyes never wavered as he carefully observed Hassan's movements and breathing between attacks, he still couldn't find any opportunities.

There are only traps that can be seen through with the eyes. If you rush in without discerning them, the only outcome will be being torn apart.

"It is truly sad that they have paid the price of no longer being human, yet still have to feel the pain of death and cannot achieve their goals."

Even I couldn't help but feel compassion and considered letting you go.

Tristan, who had been dodging, suddenly stopped and said sadly.

"However, I don't know your situation, and I have no interest in your justice. I will only be more ruthless than anyone else."

Hassan, who was charging forward with all his might using all four limbs, stopped in mid-air as if he had crashed into a wall of air.

However, through the reflection of the sunlight, one could clearly see one after another tiny, barely visible threads wrapped around Hassan's cursed arm.

These threads are what is known as the "Bow of Guaranteed Hit," while the only thing that serves as a Noble Phantasm is the simple thread itself.

Tristan uses the vibration of these lines to bounce the air, thus launching his invisible arrows.

But besides that, these lines have a more fundamental purpose: to bind the enemy, just as we are seeing now.

Because the essence of this Noble Phantasm is merely a single line, it doesn't possess much magical power when used, making it extremely difficult to detect. Its range is also very wide, which is why this Noble Phantasm is an anti-military Noble Phantasm.

"Ha, ha... You actually managed to silently bind my entire body with silk threads all this time. That's quite remarkable, Lord Tristan."

Although we are enemies, I truly admire your skills. I too am someone who survives by skill, and I know how much effort you poured into that bow, how many trials you endured... Just thinking about all the hellish experiences you've gone through so far makes me deeply respect those years.

But! Precisely because of this, you are more suited to hell. Your power cannot suppress me, so leave now!

Hassan, with his cursed wrist, struggled to pull the silken strings wrapped around him, trying to either sever them or pull the person controlling them.

However, the moment he unleashed his power, it surprised Hassan of Cursed Arm. This power was definitely something Tristan could achieve. Even with the Lion King's blessing, Tristan's power was no match for Hassan of Cursed Arm.

During the battle just now, Tristan's bow and sword had both clashed with Hassan's claws, and the broken blade was still lying in the ruins dozens of meters away.

So… Hassan the Cursed Arm, but his gaze followed the threads binding him; these threads were tied to the surrounding buildings.

It wasn't just one or two buildings, but all the buildings in the surrounding streets that were within sight were connected and tied together.

If it were just about binding Hassan's cursed arm, would it really require so much time?

But the technique Tristan used was to subtly connect the entire city into a unified whole, imposing constraints with the weight of the city.

"Don't struggle. I've already gauged your strength through the fight just now. This is something your body can't break free from."

Tristan raised his hand, the fingers of his right hand, which had been manipulating the threads, all broken off—this was the price he paid.

"Although I have lost all five fingers of my right hand, as long as I can still pluck the strings, that's enough. As long as I have one finger, no, even if I only have my mouth left, I can still fire Philnotts."

Prepare yourself for this final, all-out blow, and die.

Tristan plucked the strings, channeling all his magic into them, unleashing this powerful strike.