Thump, thump, thump!
Mount Etna spewed white ash, shrouded in clouds for millennia, erupting often, its terrain complex.
From far off, Damian saw many giants.
Clustered together, they were hard at work: some digging up earth, some hauling dirt, some bellowing orders, some standing guard with weapons.
They looked disciplined, each doing their part.
They had gathered around a temple from the ancient Greek era, with standard massive Greek columns and a huge disk in the middle—at the center of it, a vast black hole.
The giants were tossing countless human hearts into the black hole by the batch.
From that hole came deep, guttural roars, like a beast lurked within.
Down at Etna's foot came the sounds of battle and shouting, and bursts of razor-edged sword-qi exploded beneath the volcano.
Sword-qi?
So that man is here!
Looked like a fierce fight.
Damian was about to move closer for a better look when a gust of yin wind hit him head-on. The cold was bone-piercing, and snowflakes drifted down from the sky, as if winter had arrived in an instant.
So cold?
Tracing the wind, Damian saw a small figure streaking about, apparently battling the giants.
"Who is that? Shaina?"
Watching her carve through foes, Damian was puzzled.
This place was nearly trackless. Only Saints could have made it to fight here. And with those S‑curve lines, it had to be a female Saint.
Shaina?
Shaina had a hot temper, but she wasn't a woman of blind fury. She wouldn't charge alone into a heap of giants to rampage—that was practically suicide.
Judging by that figure, could it be…
As he thought, the female Saint up ahead seemed to be buckling under the giants' gang-up. Her feet left the ground; she flew back toward him, seemingly trying to escape.
She was, alas, covered in wounds, red blood staining her all over. Her body looked slashed by blades—blood at her shoulders, arms, long legs, even abdomen. Thanks to her Silver Cloth, none of the hits were fatal, but she was in bad shape—bloodier than a period.
And that full, curvy silhouette—
It was her!
Damian recognized the woman—none other than Marin, the Aquila Silver Saint.
Told you—Shaina wouldn't be this brainless.
Sister Marin, are you really big-chested and small-brained?
Trying to be Ip Man and fight ten at once?
Sizing up your opponent wouldn't hurt.
Damian suddenly understood—she had pursuers, strong enough to chase a Silver Saint into flight.
He had no intention of playing hero now.
But her escape route was pointed straight at him.
Right now.
Right here.
And she ran into him.
For crying out loud!
Lady, could you pick another time to get chased down?
He was busy—didn't want to run out saving random people.
He really didn't want to show himself at this moment—especially since someone troublesome might be on Marin's heels.
Besides, Marin was thinking about how to kill him right now.
Why save her?
Just because she had a great figure and a baby face, both sultry and pure?
Right—time to pretend he saw nothing.
Safety first!
Heroics were for men with hormones in overdrive.
Damian keeps women out of his heart—his Cosmo stays pure.
"I see nothing, I see nothing. The sun's glare blinds my eyes. I'm admiring the volcanic vista."
"Oh, such beauty—no wonder it's a tourist spot."
He turned his face away, butt back, and gazed at a forty-five-degree angle into the sky.
How blue the sky!
How white the clouds!
Blue skies and clear waters—watch the sunrise, watch the volcano…
Ow!
Who the hell hit me?
He sensed something wrong—a heavy object crashed onto his head, spattering him in blood.
"Who… who are you?"
Marin, mid-flight and falling, crashed down ahead and looked up at masked Damian, as if scrutinizing him. Her heaving chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing.
"What are you staring at?"
"Never seen a masked hottie?"
Damian groused through the mask, his voice muffled.
Yes—his disguise was perfect. Marin couldn't possibly recognize him.
But you just had to fall at my feet. Was that on purpose?
Marin forced herself up and shouted, "Run! Run now…"
Then she promptly slipped again, like she couldn't find her footing. She was badly hurt—blood kept gushing from under her mask.
It was clear she'd lost too much blood—she was nearly spent.
From not far away came a bestial roar that was almost—but not quite—human. The sky darkened to a sullen dusk.
"Sigh, if it's a blessing it's not a curse; if it's a curse you can't dodge it… Sister Marin, you really know how to make trouble."
No matter what was behind her, he'd better run first.
Damian hoisted Marin and prepared for a lightspeed evacuation—get away from the battlefield, quickly.
But a ghostlike figure dropped from the sky and blocked his path.
Damn!
With this crushing pressure, there'd be no running.
Damian simply tossed Marin back to the ground and looked to the newcomer.
A closer look—her pursuer wasn't human, but a strange woman floating in the air.
No—
This thing wasn't a person.
The once-bright sky dimmed, as if veiled by a thin, creeping overcast.
A strange fragrance filled the air—heady enough to intoxicate, like musk blended with osmanthus, sweet to the point of cloying, dizzying to breathe.
In the sky drifted a young Apostle in black armor. The plating on her body was misshapen and warped. If not for the bra-like contour on the chest, he might have misidentified her sex.
Her limbs hung slack; tangled black hair covered most of her face, leaving only a pair of scarlet, vicious eyes.
Heh, heh, heh…
A creepy, leering chuckle seeped from her lips, chilling to the bone.
She slowly turned her body, those blood-red, feral eyes locking onto Damian.
"Looks deceptively seductive—won't be easy to handle."
Damian dipped his chin, drew a deep breath, and his eyes went winter-cold.
A flicker of intelligence gleamed in her bloody eyes. There was a certain cunning there. The twisted armor on her body—this was no ordinary foe.
No wonder Marin was being hunted.
As the Apostle swung her twin claws and lunged, Damian hesitated no longer and growled, "Second gear—on!"
His muscles swelled; blood-energy roared; bones crackled like fireworks; and a semi‑transparent golden armor faintly shimmered over his body.
Block my path, and die!
(End of Chapter)
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