novelraw Chapter 200: First Among the Four Emperors
Chapter 200: First Among the Four Emperors
"These two are interesting," Roya remarked. "They dare to block us alone."
His psionic sense swept across them, drawing in every detail of their outward form.
What surprised him was that they were not pure void wraiths like the Seventh Overlord, but something in between—half-human, half-wraith.
The one with skeletal biometal wings grafted onto his back still possessed a body of flesh and blood.
The greatsword bearer had only his left arm replaced with biometal.
Their condition, Roya realized, was somewhat similar to what Im and Vegapunk had once experienced—beings only partially altered and corroded by the void wraiths' beacons.
Through the ship-soul, Imu also discerned their state. She asked in bewilderment:
"Lord Roya, these two are somewhat like what I once was. Why are they… like this?"
Roya answered, still analyzing their condition, his tone tinged with faint lament:
"What you mean is, why do they appear to retain independent will, unclouded by the influence of the biometal?"
Imu nodded repeatedly.
Roya explained:
"That's only on the surface. In truth, their consciousness has been reduced to nothing but an overwhelming obsession. There is no complete self left."
"It is this obsession that sustains their ruined bodies, balancing the corrosion of the biometal in a fragile equilibrium."
"If the corrosion intensifies, their obsession will collapse with their flesh, scattering into nothing. But if the corrosion slackens, that very obsession will turn against the half-dead body, seeking release."
"The biometal exploits this paradox, holding them at that knife's edge—controlling their flesh and their obsession alike, forcing them to become what they once hated most: weapons of the enemy."
Imu fell silent, head bowed.
To maintain such terrifying obsession even in this state meant their strength exceeded his own past self's.
In other words, had it not been for Roya, even if Im had resisted the biometal's corrosion, the end result would have been no better than these two—merely another form of enslaved slaughterer, never escaping the tragic fate of becoming a weapon.
Sensing Imu's turmoil clearly, Roya did not spare him, but revealed an even harsher truth:
"These two are none other than the Silent King's Fourth Archdemon—Griffith, and Fifth Warfiend—Gars. Their standing is even higher than that of the Seventh Overlord."
Imu's blue firelight sputtered in shock.
"My lord! That's impossible! Weren't they—"
Roya sighed.
"Fighting with nothing but obsession and ruined bodies, powered by biometal, their strength has surely declined. And yet even so, they still rose to the rank of Dominator."
"Imagine, then, how terrifying their full strength must have been at their peak."
Im was shaken to his core. But inevitably, a darker thought followed: if such prodigious beings could only end as enslaved wraith-lords, then how monstrous was the Silent King, the one who cast them into this abyss?
Roya had already parsed all the information drawn from the Star Dragon's remains. A soundless sigh stirred in his heart.
The Star Dragon had personally witnessed these two—rising, falling, slaughtering their way into becoming the Fourth Archdemon and Fifth Warfiend.
That history was now part of Roya's psionic archive.
As for the grudges and bonds between Griffith and Gars, Roya made no judgment. From beginning to end, they had been pawns in the Silent King's hands. A nudge at the crucial moment, and their fates were sealed.
With Seven Overlord lying in wait, why had the Silent King chosen these two—so peculiar—to ambush the Hades?
Roya suddenly understood: his struggle with the Silent King had already begun, silently spanning the cosmic gulf, playing out through Griffith, Gars, Whitebeard, Kaido, and the others.
The Silent King's own combat power was only stellar-class. Yet he had witnessed the end of the Ancient Saints—and then toppled the Star Gods, who once ruled the galaxy unchallenged!
"His true strength…" Roya murmured inwardly.
Outside the viewport, ten radiant streaks shot forth, pulling Roya's thoughts away.
Nuwa and the others had launched, charging to meet Griffith and Gars.
Fifty kilometers from the Hades, the ten split into two squads.
Nuwa's Mythic Squad held a tight formation, striking toward Griffith on the left.
The five leaders of the veteran warbands formed a loose spread, fanning out to encircle Gars.
Kaido chuckled darkly:
"Brothers, looks like they've thrown down the gauntlet first! With their tight teamwork, it'd make sense to take on a brute with a heavy weapon. Instead, they chose the agile one. That's a direct challenge to us!"
"If we don't win this fight beautifully, we can forget about competing for anything. We'll be nothing but a pipeline feeding warriors to their psionic legion!"
Whitebeard swung his great blade, Murakumogiri, and laughed heartily:
"At last, with this Warp-powered mecha, I feel again the joy of riding the seas! Far better than those tin cans without power systems!"
"Today, I'll fight to my heart's content. You lads find your own openings!"
With that, Murakumogiri came cleaving down upon Gars from overhead!
Even in the boundless void, a brilliant white blade-aura over a foot long burst forth, adding lethal force to the strike.
Forged from pure psionics, the blade-aura bypassed the laws of material physics, unleashing devastation beyond reason.
Even Roya, watching, couldn't help but clap in admiration.
This veteran pirate, once the foremost of the Four Emperors, had at last awakened psionics—and once more revealed the unmatched talent and mastery that set him above all, his brilliance blazing again!
Sensing the terror of that strike, the head that had hung like a corpse suddenly jerked up.
From the slits of the barred knight's helm, a narrow scarlet light blazed out.
The helm could not hinder Whitebeard's vision, much less block psionic perception.
"This one's eyes are blind—so where does that red light come from?!"
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