Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 203

Chapter 203: Battle Against A God?
“Bang——”

Pope Libra, well-aware of the blood barrier’s fortitude, had not expected his golden halberd to be effective on its initial impact. Despite shattering the barrier, the halberd still surged with considerable force.

Just as its tip nearly grazed Ryan’s head, a surge of blood light flickered into existence.

[Special Sword Skill: Collision Attack]

“Crack!”

Under the violent backlash, the golden halberd splintered into fragments. Ryan advanced swiftly, slashing his sword downward in a fierce arc.

“Damn it!”

Pope Libra’s expression contorted into a grimace of fury and disbelief. He had not anticipated Ryan’s ability to execute such a formidable skill twice in rapid succession. More daunting still was Ryan’s extraordinary resilience—his physical prowess far exceeded what was typical of the third level.

“Bang!”

In desperation, Pope Libra managed to maneuver only three fox tails to shield himself.

Despite this, the force of the blow sent him crashing to the ground, his form carving out a massive crater upon impact.

As Ryan prepared to advance, a sudden intuition made him halt and retreat, creating distance between himself and the epicenter of the clash.

“Whish—”

Nine enormous purple fox tails unfurled gracefully, resembling a blossoming lotus, majestic yet destructive. The ground where they swept turned to dust, testifying to their lethal power.

At the heart of this “Purple Lotus,” Pope Libra stood beneath the remains of the God of Destiny, appearing as though cradled by divine forces. His aged features tightened and rejuvenated before Ryan’s eyes, his visage shifting from elderly wear to that of a man in his vigorous thirties.

“This is the dominion of the gods…”

Mysterious purple glyphs crawled across Pope Libra’s skin, and an otherworldly purple energy, distinct yet akin to spirituality, manifested as three slowly revolving magatama behind him.

In that moment, his aura transformed dramatically.

“I have become a god; why should I bow to any other?”

The remnants of the God behind him morphed into a translucent silhouette, adhering to his back like a spectral warrior’s shadow.

The golden sheath of his scepter cracked and fell away, revealing a sinister purple glow within. In an instant, the once golden scepter transmuted into a ceremonial purple sword.

“You who desecrate, offer your life as a tribute for the genesis of a new deity!”

The gleaming tip of the sword aimed directly at Ryan, Pope Libra’s voice cold and condemnatory, echoing like a divine decree.

Harsh and unyielding.

The divine aura enveloping the Pope of Libra radiated like the majestic sunrise, its power cloaking the sacred battleground in an ethereal glow.

As Pope Libra assumed a transcendent form, a wave of despair washed over the faces of the onlookers from the remote island, their eyes glued to the light screen that displayed this pivotal confrontation. These people, who revered the “God of Libra,” had never truly envisaged the day when their deity would manifest and bestow divine grace in such a profound manner.

“Come forth, nameless knight…” whispered a voice, faint yet fervent. It began as a lone prayer, echoing through the air, and soon swelled into a chorus that enveloped the entire island.

In the hallowed dueling arena, Ryan’s expression was etched with unprecedented gravity. Confronted by the Pope’s divine claim, every fiber of his being screamed in alert, an instinctual urge to flee from the overwhelming presence. Yet, despite the restrictions that capped his spiritual and energetic capacities at a mere third level, the disparity between him and this supposed deity was vast, chasmic.

He inhaled deeply, banishing the solemn shadows from his gaze, leaving behind only a crystalline resolve.

In his palm, something materialized a meatball, swiftly consumed, invoking the power of the [Food War·Black Roar Dragon’s Sorrow]. The essence of the black dragon wound around him, enhancing his speed and imparting a force so potent it warped the air around his greatsword.

But Ryan was far from done.

A luminescent, sword-shaped arc materialized in his grip, its sharpness evident as it sliced effortlessly through the skin on his fingertip. He dragged the bloodied finger along the blade of his greatsword, anointing it with a crimson trail.

With this ritual, he invoked the [Meteoric Sword Amulet], its weight surging by 30%.

The dark-golden gloves he wore shimmered subtly, drawing strength from his blood, feeding his “blood energy” while easing him into the “second stage” of his power [Secret of Fire] increasing his damage output and reducing the damage he sustained.

Facing such a formidable threat, Ryan advanced with deliberate, powerful strides, almost at his peak form. Yet he hesitated to unleash the final phase, the [Liberation of Power], wary of the Pope’s enigmatic abilities in this divine guise.

Hovering above, the Libra Pope’s figure was sharply reflected in Ryan’s determined eyes. This battle had escalated beyond any third-level encounter he had been promised, and Ryan mused darkly that the compensation afterward better be satisfactory, or else…

“I said: Let there be light,” intoned Pope Libra, voice cold as the void, hand outstretched towards Ryan.

Instantly, a vast, ring-shaped purple halo materialized in the sky, mirroring on the ground below, with myriad tendrils of lightning bridging the gap. The encircling halo constricted swiftly, offering Ryan no escape.

Despite the tightening noose of light and the crescendo of danger, Ryan’s eyes remained icy, unflinching. He hoisted his greatsword onto his shoulder, feeling the heft of the enhanced blade [Greatsword· Red Crown Horn] which now felt not as a burden, but as an extension of his very will, ready to carve his path through destiny.

“Thump—thump—thump!”

Amid the resonant heartbeats echoing through the arena, Ryan completed his three-stage power charge just as the ominous purple halo closed in. His spirit surged, adrenaline pumping under the dire threat of life and death, propelling him to unleash a formidable triply charged sword attack, a maneuver he’d never attempted before.

The sword’s energy, now a critical and fatal blow, burst forth like a ferocious white dragon. It charged toward Pope Libra, meeting the constricting purple halo head-on. As they collided, the sword’s energy fractured into myriad lethal shards, slashing wildly at the light barrier. Within a mere tenth of a second, the purple halo cracked under the relentless assault.

In the next fleeting moment, both the upper and lower arcs of the halo detonated spectacularly, scattering purple fragments like rain while the sword energy, now darkened with intensity, roared menacingly before Pope Libra.

Surprise and bewilderment flickered across Pope Libra’s visage. He was no stranger to sword-based techniques; many melee combatants could project such energy after mastering their weapons. Yet, these energies typically weakened as they extended from the blade, never as potent as the weapon’s direct strike.

But Ryan’s attack surpassed any prior assault, even outmatching the mysterious purple-masked man’s previous best!

Was this an undisclosed technique enhancing the sword energy, or had Ryan simply shattered his known limits?

Regardless, Pope Libra’s immediate concern was the looming dragon of sword energy. His dark eyes flashed with eerie purple luminescence as one of the three purple magatama behind him vanished, manifesting instantly as a lavender diamond-shaped shield between him and the impending onslaught.

“Sizzle—”

The air crackled as the sword energy savagely tore through the shield, its core marked by a magatama icon. Sparks flew, fragments scattered, and when the shield finally gave way, the energy dissipated, leaving only a trail of residual force.

Yet, before Pope Libra could catch his breath, a dark figure emerged from behind the remnants of the shield, wielding a sword streaked with black and yellow, striking swiftly.

Reactively, another magatama vanished, conjuring a shield to intercept the new threat. Meanwhile, Pope Libra’s pupils flared with turbulent purple light, signaling an impending counterattack.

From the hilt of his ceremonial sword, purple veins surged, channeling into the blade. With a forward slash, a purple flame flickered along the edge, trailing like a fox’s tail.

“Bang!”

The newly formed diamond shield shattered almost instantly, unable to withstand the collision between the descending greatsword and the ascending ceremonial blade.

“Boom!”

The impact sent a shockwave tearing across the arena, uprooting bricks and stirring a maelstrom of dust. A figure was hurled backward, crashing against the light golden barrier at the arena’s edge before sliding down, defeated and spent.