Chapter 97
In a flash, Blackmore dissolved into a streak of obsidian light, taking to the sky as a colossal avian shadow. As a proper magus of the old guard, he wasn't stupid enough to engage a Knight in a fistfight.
The moment he gained altitude, the flock of ravens synchronized. They spiraled under the crimson moon, shifting from a chaotic swarm into a breathtaking, hypnotic vortex of black feathers.
It made the watching Dead Apostles pause. But that awe was immediately crushed by the sheer, suffocating density of Death radiating from the sky.
Rimuru arched an eyebrow. Hidden within that flock were thousands of instant-kill projectiles. One touch, and he'd wither like a plucked flower, rotting straight into eternal death.
"I don't agree with your philosophy," Rimuru called out, keeping his footing relaxed. "But I have to admit… your little avian ballet is pretty spectacular."
He couldn't let them hit him. Physical immunity meant nothing against conceptual death. Sure, he could theoretically devour a bird to analyze its properties, but Gluttony required him to physically tank the attack first. He could probably eat one or two without his core collapsing. But tens of thousands? Yeah, no.
Going all out from the start. I'm flattered.
"Ah, how nostalgic. Lord Brunestud once said something remarkably similar," Blackmore's voice boomed from the sky, shedding its human cadence for a grinding, monstrous resonance. "But alas, primates are only stunned by their own deep-seated ignorance. They never truly look at the beauty before them… Now, watch your step!"
The sky fell.
Tens of thousands of death-bearing ravens dive-bombed Rimuru from every conceivable angle, blanketing the air in an inescapable, suffocating dome of black feathers.
Against that apocalyptic tidal wave, Rimuru, standing alone with a single greatsword, looked incredibly small.
"Ah. You watch your step too."
Rimuru raised a single, white-gloved hand. "Birds aren't the only things that bring death."
The vanguard raven abruptly froze mid-dive. A layer of pristine white frost encased it instantly.
Crack.
In a world completely devoid of sound, drowned out entirely by the screeching of the flock, a single, distinct noise echoed perfectly.
Drip.
The frozen bird shattered into a puddle of crystal-clear water. A single drop hit the barren earth.
CRACK.
The desolate graveyard floor ruptured. The deafening roar of a raging ocean swallowed the battlefield. Under Blackmore's utterly bewildered gaze, the dirt dissolved into a churning sea. Massive curtains of water erupted upward, enclosing Rimuru in an impenetrable aquatic vault just as the raven storm hit.
"The ocean is quite good at burying things too, you know."
Thick fog blanketed the waves. An unsinkable ghost ship breached the surface, unleashing a dense horde of spectral sailors onto the churning sea.
"So, what happens when birds carrying Death meet ghosts who have already forgotten how to die?" Rimuru mocked gently.
The ghosts surged upward, swatting at the diving birds. But the ravens ignored the undead, furiously hammering against the water barrier protecting Rimuru.
Blackmore didn't just watch. He spread his massive wings. A concentrated barrage of hyper-dense death energy poured from his feathers, melting the ghosts into nothingness on contact.
"When Death is dense enough, even phantoms will tremble beneath my wings."
"Tch. Are you obsessed with birds, or are you obsessed with death? Pick a lane!" Rimuru groaned, watching the endless respawn of ravens. "Aren't birds supposed to represent freedom or something?!"
With a flick of his wrist, the ocean boiled. His Mystic Code, Boundless, went into overdrive, violently replicating itself. In seconds, thousands of transparent, water-crafted seagulls burst from the sea, infused with heavy hydro-mana, and kamikazed straight into the black tide.
"I revere both. I worship birds precisely because they are the ultimate vessels of the soul."
Souls, huh…
No wonder they could vaporize his ghosts. The ravens were dripping with death, but Blackmore's foundational Magecraft was ultimately Soul Manipulation.
Rimuru let out a heavy sigh, glancing back at Altrouge through the fog. If he let this drag on, it would devolve into a grueling, incredibly boring mana-attrition war between their Reality Marbles. He really didn't want to tap into the bratty Princess's power, but he needed a quick finish.
Altrouge Brunestud hadn't inherited Crimson Moon's Marble Phantasm. As a "failed" hybrid of Dead Apostle and True Ancestor, her power mutated into something uniquely hers. It carried the terrifying, primordial magical capacity of Crimson Moon, allowing her to stand toe-to-toe with Arcueid, assuming the White Princess was actively suppressing her vampiric urges. (A fully unsealed Arcueid was basically Crimson Moon 2.0; there was no comparison).
If Arcueid's power was Crimson Moon's meticulously crafted masterpiece, then Altrouge's inheritance was the raw, untamed instinct he threw away.
Hating that connection, Altrouge had sealed away her Crimson Moon-like traits and raw power out of sheer disgust, which was exactly why she possessed a secondary, unsealed transformation.
But even that "rejected" power was an absolute nightmare for normal Dead Apostles. The True Ancestors created the Twenty-Seven, and the True Ancestors were just degraded copies of Crimson Moon. The hierarchy was absolute.
When Rimuru had consumed that single drop of Altrouge's blood, he felt the sheer, crushing density of that primordial authority.
And now, he stopped holding back.
Rimuru looked up at the crimson moon hanging in Blackmore's sky. His golden eyes bled into a brilliant, violent red.
BOOM!
An ancient, apocalyptic aura, the pure, unfiltered pressure of a True Ancestor, detonated from his core. The churning ocean tsunami instantly turned blood-red.
The crimson sea condensed into massive, sky-tearing claws. With a deafening roar, the blood claws swept upward, carving through the endless flock of ravens and violently slashing into the very fabric of the sky!
The observing Dead Apostle Ancestors gasped, a ripple of stunned murmurs echoing through the void.
Because up above, the pitch-black sky of the Reality Marble was cracking. Massive fissures spiderwebbed across the heavens, shattering like a broken mirror.
"How… is this possible?"
Blackmore stared at the crumbling sky, his avian eyes wide with absolute, uncomprehending horror.
It was the exact same move. The exact same scenario.
Almost a millennium ago, a certain monster had casually swatted his ultimate Magecraft aside, shattering his world with a single, contemptuous strike.
And now, this new White Knight had used the exact same technique to rip his Reality Marble apart?!
Nevermore… was shattered!
….
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