Bals' Counterattack

Pu!

Like a sharp blade tearing through worn leather, the glinting silver longsword cleaved through a Crawling Hand lunging towards Alice.

Yet, there was no hint of triumph on Alice's face, as several more Crawling Hands were reaching for her from different angles.

Even though these Crawling Hands possessed no extraordinary abilities, they were still troublesome.

The hatred and malice of the dead, along with their life force and souls, were all attached to the Crawling Hands. A slight cut would result in an unknown surprise gift package.

Even though Alice's physique was unusual, she didn't dare to be easily injured by these Crawling Hands. Who knew what kind of messy diseases or curses these severed hands, crawling through the sewers, were contaminated with.

However, she had to bear this pressure, had to step forward, because only by doing so could she make the Crawling Hands focus their hatred on her.

Although the Crawling Hands lacked human intelligence, their residual instincts and the commands pre-set by the Heretical Cult made them understand their duty at this moment—to kill all living things.

She had to take advantage of the moment Tog was being entangled by Lord Bals. Only at this time could Tog not be distracted by commanding the Crawling Hands.

Otherwise, it would be very difficult for her to stop all the Crawling Hands by herself.

Up to now, she still couldn't be sure if these Crawling Hands had any Transcendent tiers.

If they were just ordinary people's arms, it would be fine, but if they were Transcendent's arms, then the Crawling Hands would inherit some of their abilities!

Siosand, without realizing it, had put away his smile and was coldly watching the battles on both sides.

He clasped his long, slender fingers together, yet tapped them restlessly, as if waiting for something.

Aaron, enduring the physical discomfort, asked, "What are you waiting for?"

Now, battlefields had been quietly opened on both sides. As the second strongest combatant in the current team, no matter which side Siosand joined, it would determine the subsequent plot.

However, he helped neither side, simply standing still, coldly observing the situation, showing no intention of making a move.

"I'm waiting for an opportunity," Siosand glanced at him and said in a low voice, "Be patient, Mr. Aaron."

If Sart hadn't been willing to give up his claim to be the successor of the Star Tower, he wouldn't have been willing to protect this Aaron.

Yes, Sart had given up the chance to compete for the successor of the Star Tower.

Not long ago, he had reached a verbal agreement with Siosand, asking Siosand to protect Aaron until this incident was over.

If Siosand weren't a Silver Tier prophet, whose soul was almost immune to all sorts of illusions, he would truly believe that he was experiencing an incredibly realistic dream.

Perhaps no one would believe it if he said it, but in Siosand's eyes, the only one who could compete with him for the position of the next Star Tower Master was his senior, Sart, who had only reached the Bronze Tier by now.

And now, his greatest competitor had actually withdrawn?

Just because this Aaron was his advancement opportunity?

Or was it because this Aaron could touch the threshold of the Bronze Tier overnight?

Senior, if you give up so easily, it truly makes me a little surprised.

Do you think so highly of this person?

Or is it because... it was your only successful divination ritual?

As Siosand thought, he silently watched Aaron before him.

He was a prophet and could sense the other person's soul fluctuations and emotions. For a novice who was only at the Black Iron Tier, he didn't even know how to restrain his soul fluctuations.

Aaron was completely unconcealed in his eyes, clear as day. He could see anxiety, fear, and even doubt in the eyes of this Black Iron Tier Transcendent...

All sorts of negative energies were quietly accumulating and building up, silently waiting for the moment to see the light of day again.

However, he clearly felt that Aaron also had other emotions at this moment.

Curiosity, contemplation?

Although they were tiny, they firmly occupied a corner of his world, deeply rooted in the depths of his soul.

Heh, the very traits and obsessions that a Transcendent needed the least.

Ignorance itself is a virtue.

In the face of inexhaustible knowledge, only a humble, thirsty gaze would not be blinded by the vast starlight.

Boom!

A loud explosion interrupted Siosand's thoughts, bringing him back to his senses.

In the brief moment his thoughts were drifting, the situation had changed.

"Bals! Are you serious?" Tog's tone had changed from smugness to disbelief, and then to anger. "I've already given you the deposit! You'll come to see me with the sacrifice, that's what we agreed!"

Due to his shouting, his hoarse voice uncontrollably became sharp, the sound alone piercing the eardrums like steel needles.

"Go quickly!" Bals roared again. His Steel Prosthetic underwent another transformation. In the bright light that illuminated the entire sewer, the prosthetic melted.

Fiery red molten metal gushed out like a volcanic eruption. In just a few seconds, the surrounding temperature had already risen by several degrees.

And in this wave of heat, the molten metal surged, roared, and swallowed Tog and the black mist in one go.

The high temperature and dry heat directly caused the surrounding hard stone bricks to crack, and the stagnant water, which had been silent for who knows how many years, began to boil.

A dark green stench spread with the rising steam, and the accumulated filth of many years of fermentation was brought to light at this moment.

Mist filled the air, and for a moment, the sewer began to distort, the entire world blurring.

The torchlight was blocked by the thick mist, making it impossible to see very far.

Even though they were only a dozen steps apart, Bals's towering, imposing figure was obscured, casting only a massive shadow beneath the bright, fiery metal cage.

This was the true power of a Gold Tier expert. Furthermore, limited by the terrain and the concern of friendly fire, Bals wasn't even using his full strength.

Otherwise, the entire sewer would have cried out under the terrifying torrent of molten metal.

He was merely toying with metal; the Iron Arm was just one manifestation of his abilities.

"Move!" Bals's voice was hoarse from the high temperature. He repeated, impatiently and anxiously, "Move!"

"I get it, Bals! So you never intended to honor the contract!" Tog's hysterical voice came through the heat flow. "You only promised to bring me a Transcendent back then. I finally understand!"

Only now did Tog realize that Bals had indeed fulfilled the contract and brought a Transcendent. However, the contract didn't specify what would happen after bringing the Transcendent!

From the moment the contract was signed, the damned Bals had never intended to help him kill the Transcendent!

"Do you really think this will work, Bals?"

Unexpectedly, Tog's voice no longer came from the scorching metal cage but instead drifted through the sewer, an ominous aura spreading in the air.

"Bals, do you really think I'm that weak? Didn't you notice that these Crawling Hands are just defective products?"