Chapter 35: Fight to the Death

Luke gritted his teeth as he prepared for battle.

Whatever the evil god intended, he would have to worry about it later when his life wasn’t in danger.

A whizzing sound alerted him of the danger, and he immediately rolled out of the way. A flurry of arrows from multiple directions struck the area he had once been. He barely righted himself before ice, lightning, and flames surged towards him.

An explosion erupted as the gathered forces watched from a distance.

“Did we take him down?” a person asked amongst the crowd.

“No, that wouldn’t be enough to take him down. Luke isn’t weak. We have to keep at it,” Maison said with a serious expression.

Dominik gripped his sword until his knuckles turned white and said, “Let me get in there. I’ll end him with one swift strike.”

“If you do that, then the others can’t attack. You’ll just get in the way,” Jackie said with her arms crossed.

As Dominik frowned, Ruthie said, “It’s all my fault. If only my sealing magic had been better.”

Maison shook his head as he said, “It’s not your fault. The only one to blame is the evil god. If it weren’t for him, none of this would have happened.”

Suddenly, a figure shot out of the dust cloud.

“Attack!” someone barked.

Magic and arrows rained down on the swift figure, but all their attacks seemed useless as they failed to land. Any that were about to hit Luke were cut down by his sword, which emitted a dark energy.

“He’s using the power of the evil god,” one person said, causing uneasiness among the group.

“Don’t let it deter you. We can win this. Don’t falter for even a second,” Maison said, his voice resonating through the forest thanks to Ruthie’s magic amplifying it.

Those that had been shaking were immediately encouraged and stood straight, their eyes focusing on their target. They were determined to defeat Luke and threw everything they had at him, filling the area with magic attacks and arrows.

Luke, on the other hand, was not having a good time at all.

He was being constantly bombarded with attacks, leaving him no room to breathe. Either he was dodging attacks or deflecting them with his sword. He couldn’t even stop to assess the situation and plan a counterattack. At this rate, he was really going to die.

The thought of dying before getting his revenge filled him with an intense hatred and an overwhelming sense of bloodlust.

Dark energy poured from his body into his sword until it no longer looked like the sword bestowed upon him years ago. Now it appeared more like a black greatsword that emitted an evil aura, which would have unnerved him if he were in the right mind.

Without thinking, Luke skidded to a stop and swung it at the incoming arrows. A black slash erupted from his weapon, cutting down the arrows and nearby trees, but it didn’t stop there.

“Get down!” one person shouted too late.

In an instant, his slash had cut down several people, sending blood and gore in all directions.

As the sound of trees falling and people screaming filled Luke’s ears, it struck him what he had done. The blood drained from his face as he lowered his sword.

What had he done?

“Why are you standing around like that? Keep moving,” the evil god said, but Luke was frozen stiff.

All he could hear was the screams and dying cries of people he had struck down with his own hands.

No one was supposed to get hurt except for the targets of his revenge, yet he had killed who knew how many people with one strike. He didn’t even know how he did it. It had just happened without him realizing it.

“Hurry! Help the injured and keep attacking! We can’t let him get away!” Maison barked.

Several mages hurried to heal those that could be saved while the rest continued their assault alongside the archers.

“Watch out!” the evil god snapped.

Luke barely had enough sense to get out of the way, but he was still hit by several arrows. They dug into his back and shoulder, making him stumble and wince in pain.

“You fool! You’re going to die!” the evil god roared.

The primal desire to survive surged through him, making him temporarily forget the pain.

Moving as if on autopilot, he raised his sword again and unleashed a barrage of strikes that tore the entire area apart. People and debris were sent flying by the force of his blow. Dust filled the area, making it impossible to see what was going on.

People scrambled to catch a glimpse of Luke’s position while trying to find their allies.

Most were delirious with panic and fear, with only a few remaining calm and observing their surroundings with a critical eye. Among them were Luke’s ex-comrades who tried to regain control of the situation.

The urge to take advantage of the dust cloud to catch them off guard made him take a step in their direction, but the evil god intervened.

“This isn’t the time for your revenge. You’ve already depleted all your strength with that attack just now. You need to escape,” the evil god said.

He ignored the evil god’s words and moved towards them when he stepped on a pool of blood. Luke glanced down and spotted a dismembered corpse near his feet, but it wasn’t the only one nearby. The sight of so many people he’d killed snapped him out of it.

His stomach churned at the sight, but he forced himself to turn away and flee.

It wasn’t long before he tripped over his feet and fell down a cliff into a river. His head struck a rock in the riverbed, and he lost consciousness.

The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was the evil god muttering, “Useless. Completely useless. I should have chosen another. I truly have rotten luck.”