Magician in Type-Moon

Page 238

The current task is both a matter of life and death and a race against time.

Irmia knew that the current situation did not allow her to directly take action against Calleber, and she nodded in agreement with the current plan.

Caleb gripped the black keys tightly and began to lead the way, guiding them toward the ley line point.

As they walked further, the chill seemed to grow even heavier.

......

Hansa's heart sank.

He looked at the endless stream of branches and ice spikes surging around him, the seemingly endless attacks engulfing him like a tidal wave.

Despite his valiant struggle, with his mechanized limbs relentlessly bombarding and severing the tendrils, the power of the son of Fu Hailin seemed to far exceed expectations.

Every time he cut off a branch, a new branch would sprout in the next instant, as if it were utterly unafraid of his attacks.

"Damn it, we absolutely can't break through..."

Hansa gritted his teeth. The situation before him made him realize that with his current strength, it was impossible for him to break through this terrifying forest of death and reach the source of the Fuhai Forest all by himself.

"The monster's regenerative ability is too strong," he muttered to himself, as cold sweat or engine oil dripped down his forehead, he couldn't tell.

"Retreat..." Hansa took a deep breath, and the light in his eyes gradually calmed down.

Breaking into the source of Fuhailin's son's territory is not something he can do alone; he must reunite with his teammates to have a chance to plan a more effective attack.

But the icy, demonic branches that kept surging up from behind chased after him like a tidal wave. More and more branches wrapped around and expanded behind him, endlessly regenerating and devouring the space around him like monsters.

"At this rate, we won't be able to escape..." He gritted his teeth, dodging the attacking tendrils, while continuing to search for a way out.

The branches of ice and snow seemed to possess some kind of consciousness; they no longer attacked blindly as they had at the beginning, but instead systematically blocked Hansa's retreat.

The branches intertwined, closing in from all sides like a cage, gradually compressing his space.

"Damn it, do we need to use that?"

But the more you use that thing, the easier it is to return to heaven...

Although going to heaven is the deepest desire in the hearts of every member of the church.

But... who wouldn't want to live in this world?

—I wish I could live as simply as my master.

Unfortunately, Lord Dilo's influence will not fade away so easily.

Hanseatic League considered three people as his parents: his mother who raised him on the mountain, Bishop Dilo who brought him down the mountain, and Demio who trained him to be his agent.

After leaving the unique environment of the deep mountains, Hansa learned about the moral values ​​of general society.

Even after being trained by agents, that moral compass remains in some peculiar way.

Therefore, as part of a human being, it can still control this body that is already 70% mechanized.

Hansa took a sip of the snow that had drifted to his lips, trying to wipe away such naive sentimentality and to think about how to deal with the current situation.

At the same time, they removed the object that had been buried in their foot.

A sanctified chainsaw.

The concept of weaponry unique to the Hanseatic League... that's his biggest trump card.

Chapter 297 Sanctification (Two Chapters Combined)

Hansa slowly took out the object buried at his feet—a sanctified chainsaw that gleamed with a cold light.

His gaze turned cold and sharp through the wind and snow; this was his trump card, a unique conceptual weapon belonging to him.

"Now is not the time for sentimentality."

Buzz—!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

boom! ! !

The roar of machinery suddenly rang out, as if breaking the silence in the cold wind.

The sanctified chainsaw in Hansa's hand emitted a deep hum, like a sleeping beast being awakened.

The runes engraved on the blade shimmered with a cold light, appearing particularly glaring in the wind and snow.

The chainsaw's gears began to spin wildly as he started it, emitting a sharp, piercing sound, and the vibrations traveled up his arm and through his entire body.

The cold air was sliced ​​apart by the sharp blade of the chainsaw, as if the air itself was instantly torn apart.

"Ughhhhh!! This feeling is... so fucking... awful!!!"

Hansa sighed.

The internal mechanisms, such as springs, are constantly being assembled.

There is no precision, no logic.

It's simply a crude and brutal way of twisting together whatever's usable inside the body.

Sanctification, to put it simply, is a form of magical enhancement.

It simply possesses unique magical properties.

So, to put it bluntly, sanctification depends on the talent of the recipient.

The Hanseatic body was something born for sanctification and transformation.

No matter what kind of violence or torture, as long as the body can withstand it, the intensity can keep increasing.

A brilliant soul only needs suitable soil to blossom into a flower.

This is perfect.

The compatibility is practically over 200%.

This body, this soul, seems to have been born as the "Pilot of Unit-01".

Bishop Dilo, who took him to the church, must have thought the same thing.

How much do we need to accumulate before we can break through here?

Hansa didn't quite understand.

Let's take a look with our eyes first.

Sa's vision opened up to a new dimension in that instant.

The blindfold automatically detached, revealing a magically treated crystal prosthetic eye. The complex lenses inside began to rotate, emitting a subtle friction sound like a machine in operation.

The activation of the Mystic Code in Hansa's vision, encompassing biological, mechanical, and electronic detection capabilities, grants him a range of abilities that surpass the limits of ordinary human perception.

Accompanied by a scraping sound reminiscent of robots in a science fiction movie, the lenses inside the crystal changed their arrangement.

Next, as the sanctification and assembly process progressed, Hansa began to observe the situation with enhanced vision, dozens of times stronger than that of ordinary people.

"No wonder, I was wondering why we couldn't kill them all... It turns out they were drawing magic power from the underground veins, which has nothing to do with the life force of the Dead Apostles."

He finally saw the truth hidden deep within the icy forest—the demonic branches he had severed were rapidly regenerating by drawing magical power from the spiritual veins beneath the earth.

Rather than being sustained by the life force of the Dead Apostles, these branches are essentially part of the spiritual veins, constantly absorbing the Great Source Mana from the earth, enabling them to continuously regenerate.

Doesn't this mean that if you want to destroy this demonic forest, you have to destroy the entire land along with it?

The earth is part of the planet.

Planets are the world.

Humans are also part of the planet.

Let humanity destroy the planet?

It's obvious that such a thing is impossible to do.

No, there are things that can be done.

A formal dress of the solemn type.

The Dead Apostles are something that erodes human history; the spiritual veins they occupy can be conceptually understood as a distortion of the world.

As long as the output power is sufficient, destroying these monsters is a piece of cake.

However, the problem is that the Hansa did not equip itself with such a thing.

Although there are some in the church.

But he's not qualified enough.

Then there are no shortcuts.

Then only...

war! war! war!

Although the battles on the mystical side are battles between concepts, there are no strong individuals or weaknesses; they simply become a struggle to calculate and counter each other's order.

But it's impossible to give up resistance and stop fighting just because there's no restraint, right?

Things suddenly seemed to become simpler.

Hansa was also delighted.

This is the kind of rhythm he likes.

Intrigue and backstabbing are not things that robots are good at.

"Is it possible, Hanseatic League?"

He asked himself the question.

As long as his soul is resilient enough to withstand the erosion of sanctification.

As long as his will is stable enough to anchor the ascension of the descent.

As long as his physical body is strong enough to accommodate the modification of the costume.

Will it win?

......

I do not know.