Flashy Adventurer System : Show Off to Get Stronger! - Chapter 958

Chapter 958: Battle of the Black Dragon Gate (12)
Horror gripped the sinister snake’s heart, cursing to himself:

‘How the hell is he even here?!’

Just moments ago, that monstrous bastard had been locked in battle with the divine deity. Dweezel had confirmed it multiple times, patiently biding his time to see if the two mages were merely bait.

After careful observation, he concluded they weren’t—Shye Crowley had seemingly lost his mind, attacking the most dangerous threat in the area without hesitation.

But now, it turned out that hollow-eyed bastard had only been pretending—just like that wench, Wendy Primrose?!

These young bastards… they’re more cunning than him, aren’t they?!

Dweezel locked gazes with Shye’s hollow eyes as two greatswords descended upon him in a diagonally downward arc.

It was then he realized that the young bastard’s soul had truly been compromised by the forbidden art.

‘Then how did he even think of such a clever trap?!’

Unfortunately, the sinister snake had no time to ponder about the answer, as his life flashed before his eyes.

He truly felt he was gonna die this time.

However, how could he, Dweezel Hawkins, go down so easily?

At the last moment, the sinister snake’s shadow jumped in front of him, shockingly absorbing the blow before vanishing entirely.

If one looked closely, Dweezel had no more shadow.

But he was alive, and that’s all that mattered. The sinister snake quickly faded into the background once more.

Shye tried to chase him with another attack but it struck nothing but air.

The darned bastard had successfully disappeared again.

Unbeknownst to Shye, his last attack had landed—just a graze across Dweezel’s back, yet enough to deal a lethal wound to the sinister snake.

But for now, he had no way of knowing.

Shye also wasn’t capable of feeling frustration, so almost immediately after Dweezel disappeared, he quickly went back to fighting the White Dragon of Creation.

There was one problem, though.

The mana reserves of the two mages were on the verge of running out.

“O-Our mana reserves are running dry, we need help!” exclaimed Harry with much difficulty.

David was on the verge of passing out.

It wasn’t just a matter of mana anymore—their minds simply couldn’t endure the ritual any longer.

If they didn’t rest, they risked permanent brain damage.

With no other choice, the cohort members—except for Shirley, Siegfried, and Ian—abandoned their positions and resumed infusing their mana into the scroll.

They had already experienced the brutal mental strain the ritual inflicted, and they knew just how exceptional Harry and David were to have lasted this long.

Ten seconds later, everyone was spent.

Only Wendy had the mental fortitude to keep going.

To make matters worse, Soul Warriors and abominations had begun crawling down the hole created by the White Dragon of Creation’s descent.

The WAA-Hadean Varsa Coalition Army was right behind them, but unlike the forbidden creations, they couldn’t descend nearly as fast.

They were weary from relentless battle—while the forbidden warriors and abominations were not.

Soon, the first wave descended upon the crystalline halls, adding to Shye’s already overwhelming workload.

He was forced to retreat into the gate to continue covering his comrades.

Not out of concern—but because it was simply the objective.

Anyway, there was a silver lining—the unsealing ritual was down to its final thirty seconds.

The entire unsealing rune was already aglow with mana, though faint and flickering.

After what happened with Dweezel, the Hawklings and the sinister snake himself no longer dared to act recklessly as they had come to a chilling realization—their greatest adversary had been watching the seemingly vulnerable cohort all along.

Nevertheless, they only had thirty seconds to interrupt the casting.

Those from the Hawkin Group would have to make a move soon, and of course, Shye knows this.

The problem was: that there were too many enemies now and too few defenders.

Only Ian, Shirley, and Siegfried remained to protect the cohort, while the rest were either recuperating or outright unconscious.

His little sister, for one, was already incapacitated.

To make matters worse, one or two of the three would soon have to assist Wendy in infusing mana, as she, too, was mere seconds away from reaching her limit.

On the surface, it seemed like things were going well for the cohort, but that was far from the truth.

In a situation this dire, thirty seconds felt like an eternity.

And even if they survived for that long and accomplished the mission… what would happen once they unsealed the Black Dragon of Destruction?

They hadn’t come here to die like heroes, had they?

In fact, for Shye, this was one of the objectives that truly mattered.

It was ingrained so deeply that, even in his current state, his mind worked tirelessly to think about how he could send them out of this place—not out of concern, but simply because it had to be done.

As for the reason? He himself didn’t know—he had forgotten.

It just…had to be done.

Glancing behind him, he finally spoke to them for the first time after his harrowing transformation: “All three of you, go and unseal the deity. I’ll handle the defense.”

Shirley trembled at the sound of that monotone voice, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Yet, in the end, she complied—she couldn’t let her beloved’s sacrifice be in vain.

Truthfully, she no longer cared about the operation. The weight of her grief was crushing, all-consuming.

She just… wanted to die alongside her dearest.

If she could save the world in the process, so be it.

Shye stood in front of the cohort, twin greatswords gleaming lethally in his hands.

Above him, the battle between spirits was reaching its grim conclusion.

Four of the Eight Spirit Kings had already fallen, erased for eternity. The remaining four were grievously wounded, barely holding on.

Yet, their foes—the two equines—were little better. They, too, teetered on the brink of death.

The difference, however, was that Zeth and Aemorus stood firm, unwavering in their resolve.

Meanwhile, King Pokko, the White Tiger King, and the others… they wavered.

Their ferocity waned, slowly crushed beneath the relentless assault of the two equines—and the grim realization that the notorious rogue before them had already surpassed them.