Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 182

Chapter 182: The Ruthless Hanged Man!
 

Now fully engaged, Blue Mountain’s [Taunt] skill redirected all the nearby deformed black dogs toward him. While individually weak, hovering between the second and third strength tiers, their sheer number posed a significant threat. Alone, Blue Mountain’s might have been overwhelmed quickly.

But Blue Mountain was not alone.

To his sides, Green Tide and Cyan River fought valiantly. With every sweep of his massive greatsword, Green Tide decimated two or three black dogs, his technique a blend of brute force and balletic grace known as the “Sea Tide Greatsword Technique.” While Cyan River’s speed didn’t match Green Tide’s, she played a crucial role in defense, protecting Blue Mountain by intercepting any beast that tried to flank him.

Meanwhile, Ryan and Yellow Sand held their positions, their attention fixed on a more sinister presence, the “Hanged Man” on a skeletal altar. Their eyes bore the weight of the impending danger.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the eerie sound of ripping straps. The bindings that held the “Hanged Man” to an inverted cross snapped violently. As the figure plummeted headfirst toward the ground, it managed an impossible contortion. Its arms reached down to break its fall while its legs splayed out, morphing into grotesque appendages.

Bones creaked ominously as the “Hanged Man” righted itself in a disturbing display of flexibility. The head that should have been at the top was grotesquely situated at the hip level.

As this chilling scene unfolded, the skeletal altar behind the contorted figure began to melt away. It transformed into a towering, sinister sword of bone that plunged into the ground, sealing the fate of the battleground with a foreboding thud.

From the depths of the tattered sleeve, a hand as gnarled and dry as ancient firewood reached out. Its skeletal fingers closed around the hilt of the colossal bone sword, and in the hollow sockets of the “Hanged Man,” blood-red flames flared to life.

With a resounding “Boom!” akin to a thunderclap, the “Hanged Man” unveiled his true might and vanished in a blink. When he materialized again, he was alarmingly close to Yellow Sand.

As the bone sword descended with a sinister hiss, a piercing chill swept through the air, raising goosebumps on Yellow Sand’s skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

The sword was not merely a weapon; it was a vessel of profound and dark spiritual power, seemingly surging beyond the constraints of its supposed third-tier level.

Despite the sudden onslaught, Yellow Sand’s gaze remained serene, even amidst the surge of adrenaline. The calm of ice-blue light flickered in his eyes as he summoned a cluster of icicles from the ground. They soared up, clashing with the tremendous force of the descending sword.

With a resounding “Crash!” the ice shattered spectacularly into a spray of crystalline shards, unable to withstand the bone sword’s brutal assault. But the fragments served their purpose, delaying the sword’s fatal descent just enough for Yellow Sand to retreat swiftly.

The “Hanged Man’s” bloodshot gaze followed Yellow Sand relentlessly. Yet, as he stepped forward to strike again, the ground beneath him erupted into towering columns of ice, blooming like deadly frost flowers, ensnaring his movements.

Seizing the moment, Yellow Sand, while seemingly retreating, extended her hand with deliberate calm. Energy gathered in her palm, swirling into a frigid, ice-blue sphere under the enhancing aura of her “Frost Field.”

“Go!” she commanded softly, thrusting her palm forward. The sphere shot towards the “Hanged Man” at breakneck speed, arriving almost instantaneously.

The “Hanged Man” raised his sword in a futile attempt to block, but the sphere burst prematurely, unleashing a ferocious blizzard. A savage cold wave exploded outwards, turning everything in its path to ice, including the “Hanged Man,” who was instantly encapsulated in a crystal-clear prison of frost.

From a safe distance, Yellow Sand exhaled deeply, her breath fogging in the cold air. Each move had drained her considerably, taxing both her mental focus and magical reserves.

But her relief was short-lived. The reflection of a shadowy figure on the icy surface caught her eye. The figure of the “Hanged Man” within the ice sculpture dissolved into black sludge, and behind her, he reappeared, sword poised for a deadly strike.

With a deafening “Boom!” Yellow Sand reacted instinctively, summoning her magic to conjure a diamond-shaped ice shield. The makeshift barrier sprang to life just as the bone sword crashed down.

The shield, hastily formed and fragile under the immense power bearing down upon it, cracked under the impact. Yellow Sand braced herself, knowing that her hastily conjured defense might not withstand another blow.

The frosty barrier shattered with a thunderous crack, and the colossal skeleton, wielding its enormous sword, didn’t hesitate. The blade resumed its deadly arc towards Yellow Sand.

As the ghastly sword mirrored in his widening eyes, Yellow Sand’s pupils constricted to pinpoints. Trapped! There was no escape in sight.

In that heartbeat of desperation, a bold clash of black and yellow flashed from the periphery. A second sword, striking with the weight of destiny, diverted the skeletal weapon with a resounding clang.

Suddenly lighter, Yellow Sand felt herself yanked backwards by a firm, reassuring grip. They retreated together, and as he turned, Yellow Sand’s gaze fell on his savior, a silhouette that radiated security. Her heart fluttered with an unspoken gratitude.

Sparks showered around them as the two swords met, filling the air with the scent of scorched metal. Ryan, the figure who’d come to her rescue, met Yellow Sand’s eyes with a slight, confident smirk. There was a gleam of combat readiness in his gaze.

“Really, jumping straight into the fray against ranged attackers? You underestimate my role on the front lines,” Ryan chided lightly, his tone playful yet edged with reproach.

From Ryan’s stance, a dark, swirling aura of spiritual energy began to rise around the “Hanged Man,” it pulsed with a power that filled the air, pressing outward with an almost tangible force.

The stage was set, the lines drawn. The battle was just beginning.

As the sword swept through the air like a tidal wave, the twisted black dogs collapsed into pools of sludge, their forms disintegrating under the relentless assault.

The trio, GreenTide, Cyan River, and Blue Mountain, worked in seamless coordination, gradually turning the tide against the onslaught of the malformed creatures. Step by step, the battle began to lean in their favor.

Amid the chaos, Cyan River cast a quick glance toward her companions, Purple Wind and Yellow Sand, a move that nearly cost her dearly.

Her eyes widened in horror as she witnessed the ice shield splinter before the monstrous skeleton sword, poised to strike down on Yellow Sand. The colossal blade, dwarfing any human in size, underscored Yellow Sand’s vulnerability, his figure seeming fragile in its looming shadow. Even Blue Mountain, sturdy as he was, would falter under such a massive strike.

Just as despair gripped her, Purple Wind leapt into action, intercepting the blade with impeccable timing, sparing Yellow Sand from certain doom. Purple Wind’s heart surged with relief, briefly.

Her respite was short-lived. The next moment, a powerful surge of spiritual energy burst forth from the “Hanged Man,” spreading like a tsunami across the battlefield. Cyan River gasped, the intensity of the energy far surpassing anything she had encountered, overwhelming even the third level of spiritual force.

This sudden wave of spiritual pressure disrupted their own fight, pressing down on them with oppressive force. Cyan River staggered, nearly caught off guard by an attack from one of the black dogs reformed from the mud.

Gritting her teeth, she steadied herself, “Hold on, Master Yellow Sand, Purple Wind,” she whispered, rallying her spirits to fend off the reformed attacker while her thoughts flew to her friends.

…

With a resonant clang, the clash of steel rang out as Ryan’s black and yellow greatsword met the skeletal giant sword of the “Hanged Man.” After a tense moment of metal grinding against bone, the two combatants broke apart, each reassessing the other.

Yellow Sand, regaining his composure, darted behind Ryan. “You take the lead, I’ll support?” he proposed.

“Alright, let’s do it,” Ryan replied swiftly, nodding.

Their brief exchange solidified the plan. Yellow Sand had recognized that his usual tactics wouldn’t suffice against the “Hanged Man’s” bizarre agility. Typically, he could immobilize his foes with ice, then strike from a distance. But the “Hanged Man” proved too elusive, easily escaping icy confines that would have held others captive.

Realizing a direct confrontation was futile, Yellow Sand settled into a supportive role, enhancing Purple Wind’s offensive capabilities. It was their best strategy under the circumstances, and Ryan, experienced in battle, understood this well. Together, they readied themselves to face the eerie adversary once more.

“Boom!”

The earth trembled beneath their feet as a surge of force propelled Ryan forward at breakneck speed. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between himself and the eerie “Hanged Man.” With his greatsword poised high, Ryan brought it down with a force magnified by his tactical shift from defense to offense, a skillful maneuver that turned his previous defensive block into a powerful, slashing attack.