Black mist closed in from all directions like a living wall.
Before the storm even arrived, the bone-chilling cold had already pierced through his clothes.
His vision rapidly darkened, even the thin crescent moon above had been completely swallowed by the rolling fog.
(Escape is impossible…)
Weiss glanced around, confirming with a single look,
barely enough time for one glance, as the “Doomdark” wind already tugged at his cloak.
The gusts swept like blades, no need to wait for the black mist to corrode—just the storm itself was enough to tear a person apart.
Since escape was impossible…
Weiss dashed forward again, pulling out the medicine bottle he always carried, shoving the few remaining painkillers into his mouth to chew.
Just like oral medicine, but obviously this stuff was much more effective—
Once swallowed, it truly numbed the pain temporarily in the literal sense.
As for the downside of losing the sense of pain and thus losing awareness of danger, surviving first was the priority before worrying about that.
At the very moment the wall of black mist was about to close in—
A near-mad flame ignited in Weiss’s eyes. He lowered his body, muscles in his legs tensing to the limit, charging fiercely into the storm. His bracers suddenly burned hot as if searing iron, a strange warm current surged from his chest.
“—Damn it, I’m going all out on you!”
He shouted as he broke through the black mist’s hold, moving at more than twice his previous speed.
The holy light was no longer faint; it transformed into golden flowing flames wrapped around his right fist.
Norsen’s mocking smile froze on his face.
He only saw the figure that should have been torn apart charging against the storm, waves of magical energy swelling around him—energy far beyond what a mere mercenary should possess.
“What?!”
Just as doubt surfaced, the fist wrapped in blazing holy light slammed into him.
Weiss thought of nothing else.
A flash of Lorletsa’s stance when piercing the Doomform crossed his mind, and his body instinctively imitated it—lowering his center of gravity, twisting his waist, his entire body’s strength coiling into one.
His fist tore through the air, aiming straight for those murky azure eyes.
Norsen hurriedly raised his mist arm to block, a disdainful smirk curling his lips.
No matter how unbelievable, he was still just a mercenary.
In this world where magic decided everything, a person’s upper limit was determined at birth by the bloodline they inherited.
A mere ordinary mercenary, could he possibly rival the House of Higliwell?
Especially against one who had accepted the Calamity’s blessing—
The moment mist arm met holy light, it was like snow meeting the blazing sun, emitting a hissing, mournful cry as it rapidly melted away.
The golden fist drove straight in, striking Norsen’s cheek precisely.
“Ugh?!”
Norsen grunted, his head snapping back.
The contact of holy light on his skin burst into intense burning pain, and he even smelled the scent of scorched flesh.
The black mist below his waist surged violently, barely offsetting most of the impact.
But that searing pain and humiliation were far more infuriating than the actual damage.
Weiss used the momentum to somersault and land, staring at his fist in surprise.
Holy light flowed between his fingers, much brighter than before.
(Well, damn. Does this thing have a limit? Only pulling out its real power when I’m about to die?)
He instinctively touched his slightly burning bracers, feeling a flicker of relief.
However, he did not notice that at this moment, the cloak on his back was also emanating a faint golden glow, harmonizing with the jewel on his bracers.
Norsen wiped his thumb across his mouth, erasing nonexistent blood, his azure eyes flooding with murky scarlet as his elegant mask shattered completely:
“You worm… how dare you…”
“The bite of a country bug really hurts…”
Weiss laughed darkly, clenching his fist until his knuckles cracked, for a moment making it impossible to tell who the real villain was.
“Especially when cornered.”
He stepped forward again, even faster this time.
Norsen roared, swinging his mist arm as the black fog formed a giant hand to strike, but Weiss nimbly dodged to the side.
Each time the holy light-wrapped fist collided with the black mist, it sparked blinding flashes and sizzling burning sounds.
Norsen’s unease grew with every strike.
This mercenary’s movements were becoming smoother and smoother, those cunning dodges and counterattack angles simply beyond the skill of an ordinary mercenary.
What irritated him even more was the mercenary’s obnoxious holy light, which made him instinctively uncomfortable every time they touched.
“…Just a lucky little bug!”
His eyes deepened with blood-red, his attacks falling into chaos, the black mist swirling wildly, turning into an uncontrollable storm.
Weiss weaved through the raging fog, relying on the fragile shield formed by “Return Journey Dust” to block the Calamity’s breath.
Shards of rock and broken swords scraped against his body, but the painkillers were still effective. Even when his cheek was cut open, it didn’t slow him down at all.
But just panting like this, sweat mixed with blood dripping down, he was still far from defeating his opponent.
Weiss sized up the gap between them.
Relying on brute effort to outlast the battle, he simply didn’t have the stamina.
And he himself had no magic power. The “Melomelo Eye” enchantment boosting his abilities was probably borrowed from somewhere; if it failed the next second, then he’d really be in trouble.
But one thing was worth noting:
Although Norsen had fused with the Soul-Devourer and gained finer control over “Doomdark,” his core was still the Soul-Devourer. That mist clearly wasn’t suitable for agile movement…
(That is to say, as long as I can land a hit, he’s basically a wooden stake!)
Thinking this, Weiss smacked his forehead—
He’d done exactly this before.
Seizing the moment, Weiss suddenly stooped to grab a half-broken sword from the ground.
Holy light spread along his arm, enveloping the rusty metal into a dazzling golden spear.
“Got you!”
Using his waist and abdomen for force, he hurled the broken sword.
The sword turned into a golden streak, piercing through the black mist and stabbing deep into Norsen’s foggy shoulder.
“What?!”
Norsen let out a guttural cry unlike any human’s, white mist steaming from the struck area.
Though the fog body writhed quickly to repair the damage, the holy light’s burning pain was very real.
Before he could get angry, a second holy light-imbued stone flew over—
Followed immediately by a third, fourth…
Weiss switched from close combat to siege weapon, turning everything within reach into a temporary projectile.
“Bastard—”
Norsen swung his mist arm, blocking most of the thrown objects, but some slipped through and struck his massive body.
Each holy light burn caused him to falter, and although Calamity’s breath allowed for repairs, the pain was impossible to erase, etching itself deep into his soul.
Thanks to the “Melomelo Eye” enchantment’s effect, Weiss imbued every thrown object with holy light, each acting like an incendiary grenade against the Doomform.
Though a single hit’s killing power wasn’t great, the sheer volume was overwhelming.
Plus Weiss’s bracers weren’t just passive defense; they also granted strength boosts—in short, his stats weren’t bad, and his throws had enough force behind them.
“Just like this—”
Weiss tossed stones while wearing a mocking expression,
“Ever heard that a swarm of bugs can kill an elephant?”
“Fine… fine, I have to admit, you really taught me a lesson.”
Norsen’s rage twisted into a bitter laugh,
His pupils completely drowned in blood-red,
“As a return, you shall receive a death worthy of you.”