Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 331 : In the Name of Sloth (4)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
-!!!
A terrifying shriek that turned dread into worship resounded, while the enormous masses of meat, each the size of a mountain, got pulverized.
--!!!
Desperately, it lifted its last arm to strike at Basiliora regardless of the cost.
From that colossal palm, warped bones erupted, creating hideous barbs, and it smashed downward aimed at Basiliora's rear.
Crash—!
The dark spike jutting from Basiliora's back halted that arm with ease.
Crackkkkk!
Moments later, the limb shattered entirely.
-!!
-!!
Its wail rang out, a warning to everything around and a bellow inspiring courage all the same.
The beast tumbled into the dark domain below.
From the earth, shadowy tendrils arose, yanking at the meat to rebuild its form.
Squish—crackkk~!
Thus, another heap of flesh started to rise like a peak.
Glancing at the scene below, Alon breathed a quiet sigh, noting how his strike had succeeded against the Sin of Sloth.
In the source material, the Sin of Sloth progressed through four stages.
Stage 1 meant the dark domain kept growing without interruption, compelling those trapped within to turn on one another.
Fail to halt this stage swiftly, and containing the Sin of Sloth turned impossible.
According to Psychedelia's world layout, once the dark domain covered 30 squares, defeat was inevitable no matter what.
This stemmed from the game's lack of spells reaching beyond 31 squares.
Actually, no spell extended past 20 squares.
Stopping the Sin of Sloth proved nearly unattainable.
Even so, the loss condition sat at 31 squares due to holy energy.
The math got intricate, but Sironia’s holy energy let you disregard the dark domain's influences.
That said, it only held for up to 20 of those 31 squares.
After that, penalties started stacking, turning you into just another victim.
Under usual circumstances, that held true.
Lacking her presence, he wouldn't have considered properly thwarting the sin, dooming the world to ruin.
Yet relaxation came too soon.
They'd barely cleared the initial stage.
“....”
Alon shifted his eyes downward.
Flesh masses gathered near Basiliora.
The count of these masses depended on the domain's squares.
At 30 squares, four appeared.
Noting the flesh masses' quantity, he figured as much, yet urgency didn't grip him tightly.
Seven gigantic blobs burst from the soil, lunging at Basiliora simultaneously.
Their sheer bulk registered even from above, encircling Basiliora right away.
“This is insane—”
“Shouldn’t we do something, Celaime?! This isn’t what we discussed in the plan! There are seven of them!”
Curses laced with alarm slipped from the troops' lips.
A frantic yell erupted from Parkline.
It made sense.
Any single blob held enough mass to overwhelm Basiliora alone.
“....”
Celaime gulped nervously and mustered mana, seeming forced into unleashing a incantation.
“...!”
With the dark blobs fully trapping Basiliora and the twisted, skeletal arms lifting skyward to crush down—
Alon steadily shaped a gesture, as though anticipating exactly this.
And then.
“Spirit Tree (Wood).”
The troops—
Along with Celaime and Parkline, witnessed it.
Bursting from Basiliora's full frame—
Trees of shadowy hue.
Silently, the trees ripped through the blobs enclosing Basiliora.
Bathed in dark crimson blood and verdant smears, the trees overtook the dark domain and the heavens.
They lifted the dark blobs like huge fruits, launching them skyward.
“Drago...?”
A trooper whispered, eyeing the shadowy trees unfurling like wings.
All stood mute, gazing vacantly at Basiliora's form.
It dominated utterly.
The myriad trees clinging to its vast body amplified Basiliora's grandeur.
A primal terror, or maybe reverence, seeped into every soul.
-!!!!
At last, Basiliora's beastly howl rang, sending the broken flesh blobs plummeting earthward.
Unlike their earlier rise fueled by devouring fears, they now dropped feebly and splintered.
Appendages ripped free, and the jutting, ugly bones fractured powerlessly.
And then.
After verifying the ground's state, Alon faced the onset of Phase 3—
—He eyed the swiftly commencing Phase 3.
Boosting his sight with mana, he spotted a cluster emitting hazardous magic nearing the Ashtalon royal fortress.
Alon swiftly recognized them.
Phase 3 of the Sin of Sloth.
It dominated the deceased within the dark domain who possessed notable strength.
To be exact, it resembled "puppeteering" more than outright "domination," sparking debates among gamers here.
The puppets selected at random.
Should luck bring "powerful" figures like elite knights into play, chaos ensued.
These puppets gained 50% to full strength boosts over their prior selves.
And indeed, as if demonstrating.
The trio of mighty beings drawing near pulsed with such potent shadows that their aura seemed tangible from afar.
Millennium Ice chilled the surroundings solid while brandishing a huge armament.
Beside him, Dragon Lance gripped a lance pulsing with a perilously intense vibe, true to his title.
And lastly, Hidden Swordsman—
Crack— Craaackkkk!
He idly cleaved the nearby landscape as he advanced leisurely.
A pointless endeavor.
Still, his mana overflowed so vastly that such waste felt trivial.
Alon barely had time to take in this view.
“They’re coming, as expected.”
Alon also spotted the horde starting to cluster around the mighty three.
Entities so decayed they scarcely qualified as corpses, trailing the trio.
Troops, warriors, beasts.
Those who'd once breathed, or at least kept some shape.
Now they neared Alon, who readied another incantation against the Sin of Sloth.
Then, suddenly.
Dragon Lance hoisted his enormous lance overhead.
Kwooooom—!!!
Mana burst forth savagely.
Ignoring damage to himself, Dragon Lance assumed a hurling pose, compressing stiflingly thick mana in his grasp.
The clear aim was Alon.
But others joined too.
Hidden Swordsman and Millennium Ice, who'd merely strode onward leaking mana, now dashed toward Alon's flying vessel, with Millennium Ice forging icy platforms in the breeze.
The empowered elites, bolstered by sin's might.
Any whose bodies held even partial wholeness.
All barreled toward Alon together to erase him.
With a screech like mangled metal.
Dragon Lance, twisted to extremes, entered Alon's view.
No sight boost needed; Alon plainly saw the lance absorbing and whirling black mana.
For that lance, range vanished as an issue.
Once released, it'd hit the vessel instantly—no doubt about it.
Still, Alon stayed composed.
He'd foreseen every bit.
-!!!!!
The lance in Dragon Lance’s grip emitted a frosty whine as it rent the atmosphere.
Slicing wind and noise, the lance rocketed ahead like it aimed to skewer a deity above.
All eyes fixed on the lance as it gained speed, shattering aerial resistances repeatedly.
Boom—!
Right as the lance hurtled at the vessel, a golden thunderclap erupted upward.
From there.
Seolrang appeared, wrapped in radiant gold.
She smirked—!
With a frosty grin, she snatched the incoming lance meant for the vessel and flung it right back at Dragon Lance.
Fwaaaaaaa~!!!!
The lance struck Dragon Lance, detonating the earth like a warhead impact.
Next, from the debris, Millennium Ice, who'd been stepping through the air, soared and charged Seolrang.
Craaaack~!
Millennium Ice’s armament couldn't touch Seolrang either.
“It’s been a while.”
Flashing a bright smile, Eliban effortlessly parried Millennium Ice’s strike.
Millennium Ice, face impassive, swiftly attempted a leg sweep at the barrier before him.
Boom—!
As though anticipating it, Eliban slashed his blade low, slamming Millennium Ice hurtling back to earth.
In that instant.
Hidden Swordsman, lurking in the haze ready to unsheathe amid the dust, at last attempted to—
[-]
He failed to unsheathe.
The hidden swordsman glared at the enormous blade now plunged where he'd stood seconds before, then glanced skyward once more.
In that former azure expanse holding only one vessel, tracing the elongated, circuit-resembling mana—
Crack—! Craaackkk!
Fissures started webbing out.
So many fissures they appeared to swallow the whole firmament.
Quickly, armaments poured from those fissures, and then—
“Foolish—”
A voice descended.
“You worthless shells,”
Backed by endless armaments, positioned amid the fissures,
“Don’t even think you can reach Brother.”
Radan’s tone gazed down on the land with icy majesty.