Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest-Chapter 29: Aftermath (1)

The blood spears rained down on Zain and the others like a crimson downpour, each one humming with deadly intent.

Zain, his body pushed beyond its limits by the power of his codes, reacted first.

He moved like a mirage—his sword flashing in streaks of green. The first spear was cut clean in half. He sidestepped the second, the rush of air brushing past his cheek. The third spear met the flat of his sword, deflected with sheer force.

But no matter how fast he moved, no matter how much he endured, hundreds of blood spears were impossible to block.

The first one pierced through his leg.

Or at least, it should have.

The green aura surrounding him dulled the impact, reducing what should have been a deep wound to nothing but a shallow scratch. The spear shattered like ice, scattering red droplets into the air.

Zain gritted his teeth.

Henry was spreading his power too thin - Zain realized that.

For the sake of sheer quantity of blood spears, Henry had weakened each individual spear.

If they had been any stronger, if they had been deadly, Zain would already be dead.

If not for his codes, if not for the miracles of his blood crest—he wouldn't have lasted this long.

But even so, the blood spears didn't stop.

And Code Foresight went into a frenzy.

Zain's vision blurred with information—hundreds of projected trajectories appeared in his mind, each one spelling his doom.

He dodged one.

Blocked another.

Then another.

But his body was too slow.

'I can't dodge them all!'

A spear slashed across his shoulder. Another grazed his ribs. Blood splattered across the battlefield, staining the once-proud green aura that had shielded him.

His breathing grew ragged, and his vision started to darken.

Still, Zain didn't stop moving.

Even as his body burned with pain, even as his limbs grew numb, he fought.

He shielded his vitals with what little strength he had left.

Henry, too, seemed to be losing control over the blood spears. Their paths were erratic, their movements predictable.

It seemed that Henry wasn't perfect with the Blood Art either.

It was expected.

The Blood Art, an ability exclusive to demons, could never be perfectly replicated—even by a half-demon.

The human bloodline possessed incredible adaptability and potential, but it also clashed with the innate powers of demons.

But it wasn't enough.

There was a limit to what his body could endure. Even with the buffs from his codes still active, his physical form simply wasn't strong enough to handle them. Instead of empowering him, the very enhancements meant to protect him were tearing him apart from within.

Such was the nature of codes.

Zain's vision blurred. His limbs felt heavier with every movement, his once-fluid dodges now sluggish, his muscles screaming under the strain. The pain wasn't just from the wounds anymore—it was from within. His body was breaking down under the weight of his own power.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move, to keep standing. His instincts screamed for him to drop his sword, to fall, to just let go—but he refused.

I can't fall here...

A spear grazed his side, cutting deep. He staggered but didn't drop.

Another came from behind—he twisted at the last second, the deadly tip ripping through his shoulder instead of his spine. Blood sprayed, his green aura flickering wildly.

His knees nearly buckled.

No... Not yet...

He forced his body forward, his breaths ragged, his heart hammering in his chest.

More spears rained down. He dodged—too slow! One scraped his thigh, another clipped his forearm. Red mixed with green, blood staining his once-brilliant aura.

His mind was drowning in pain.

Code Foresight was screaming.

Warning after warning flashed before him—hundreds of deadly paths, all ending in the same fate.

His body was at its limit. His vision dimmed.

And then—

A final spear came streaking down toward him—

Aimed straight for his heart.

And Zain... couldn't move in time.

He watched it fall.

Too fast.

Too strong.

Too close.

And then—

A thin line was drawn across the battlefield.

The air itself split apart—and in the next instant, every single blood spear shattered.

Like fragile glass.

Red mist filled the air.

Henry's eyes widened. His head snapped toward the source.

And there, standing tall with a thin rapier in hand, was a blond-haired man.

He had a sharp gaze, his stance relaxed yet composed, his aura radiating an unshakable presence.

The man looked at Henry with disdain.

"Ambushing little kids who can't even fight back?"

His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. "Do you have not even the slightest honor?"

Henry's pupils shrank.

Askeledd, the Warrior of Valor had arrived!

'This is bad.'

Henry clenched his teeth, his mind racing. His attack had failed. Worse—this wasn't just some random strong opponent.

This was a nightmare.

And the worst part?

That damn cockroach wasn't dead yet.

Zain was still breathing.

And soon, Draemir's forces would be here.

Henry knew what that meant.

It meant his doom.

His mind made up in an instant.

"All of you—KILL HIM!"

He barked the order at his remaining men, and at the same time, he turned and ran.

Cowardice? No.

Survival.

The weak die. The strong live. He had no intention of dying today.

"No honor indeed."

Askeledd's voice carried across the battlefield, his rapier flickering in the light.

Visit ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience.

"But where do you think you're going?"

He moved.

Fast.

Henry felt a chill crawl up his spine.

But just as Askeledd was about to cut him down—

Something lunged at him from behind.

A man.

He had no weapon. He didn't even try to defend himself. He simply threw himself at Askeledd with reckless abandon.

Something was wrong.

Askeledd's instincts screamed at him.

His rapier pierced through the man's skull without hesitation—clean, precise, a perfect kill.

But then—

Something impossible happened.

The man's eyes burned with madness.

"For the Demon King!"

His body began to bloat unnaturally.

Askeledd's expression darkened.

"...."

BOOM!

The corpse exploded.

Blood and flesh rained down in a grotesque display.

Askeledd, now a fair distance away, clicked his tongue. He had dodged in time, but—

Explosions erupted all around.

One after another.

His eyes darted across the battlefield. More men were detonating themselves.

Their corpses were nothing more than suicide bombs.

"...Madmen," Askeledd muttered under his breath.

He looked up.

Henry was already a good distance away.

'Tch'

---***---