Chapter 2687 — 2687: Mist Front

The captain of the Dutchman cleaved the formation of the Shadow Legion apart in an instant. The silent shades, which had seemed indomitable before, fell to his ghostly blade like autumn leaves. A moment later, the wraiths followed their commander into the breach, causing the dark phalanx to buckle.

'Not good…'

Ordinary shades had no chance in a clash against the sinister apparition. The champions of the Shadow Legion, meanwhile, were either too far away or preventing other sections of the formation from falling.

Jet was the closest.

Cassie was already whispering into her ear, relaying the new information about the Dutchman and its captain. Much stranger, though, was the fact that she heard the voice of the Lord of Shadows resounding in her other ear at the same time.

He said:

"You need to buy me time."

Jet regarded the captain of the Dutchman for a split second.

'Gods.'

Somehow, it felt like he was coming directly for her.

"Sure… no problem."

Her voice was even. Hearing its nonchalant tone, the Lord of Shadows let out a nervous laugh.

"At least one of us is calm, I guess. In any case, four of my incarnations are spread out around the battlefield — they are augmenting my warriors while suppressing the enemy. The Shadow Legion might be wiped out without them, but if you need me, I'll manifest them as avatars and come after the bastard myself."

Jet smiled darkly.

So, he was offering his help?

'How caring.'

"No need."

She paused for a moment, and then added in something that almost resembled hurry:

"I mean, no need for now. Let's see how things go fist... if you see me getting absolutely destroyed by that thing, do come rescue me posthaste."

She could not see Sunny, whose voice seemed to be resounding from the shadows, but suspected that there was a grin on his needlessly handsome face at that moment.

"Deal."

Cassie had finished talking, as well, which meant there was no more time to waste.

'To hell with it.'

Jet tuned into mist.

Flowing between the silent shades like a torrent, she enveloped the battlefield and surrounded the great wraith from all sides.

His cutlass glowed in the fog like an ethereal beacon, drowning the world with its ghostly chill.

Then, two icy blue lights ignited in the mist.

That was Jet assuming her human form. Taking a step forward, she lowered her war scythe and looked the Cursed Wanderer directly in the eye.

She smiled faintly.

"I am the captain of the Night Garden, Soul Reaper Jet. I was told to hold you off."

The captain of the Soul of Kanakht looked quite like a man up close — well, a ghost of a man, at least. He wore the tattered remnants of a lavish robe and a spectral chainmail underneath. His long hair was swept back and tied into a careless knot, revealing a narrow forehead. His skin would have been bronze if it weren't ethereal and translucent, suffused with a pale glow.

No one would have mistaken him for a human, though, because of the monstrous madness burning in the depths of his cold, inhuman eyes.

Jet's smile widened a little.

"But where's the fun in that? I think I'll just kill you instead."

With that, she lunged forward.

The captain of the Dutchman — the Cursed Wanderer — was not particularly powerful. In fact, he was a mere Corrupted Devil, or so Cassie had told. However, he had conquered and subjugated the Great Tyrant, Soul of Kanakht, and stole its power.

It was a strange situation where a minion of a powerful Tyrant had come to rule his master.

'Stranger things have happened…'

Jet was a Saint who rivaled Supremes in terms of physical prowess, while the Cursed Wanderer was a Devil who had taken the power of a Great One for his own. They were supposed to be, if not equal, then at least existing in the same realm.

However, practice was woefully different from theory.

As soon as Jet attacked, she could feel a terrifying wrongness to it all. The timing felt off, and the space seemed twisted subtly. Her body was not responding to her commands as flawlessly as it should have, and her aim was slightly off. She was moving slower than she had expected… her attack was weaker.

It was as if the world itself was resisting her and aiding the abomination.

That felt suffocating. Jet could only compare it to how it had felt to be in the presence of powerful Saints as a mere Awakened. Their mystical presence had been like a physical pressure, threatening to send her falling to the ground.

Similarly, the great wraith before her was exerting pressure.

She knew what that pressure was, as well. It was the Will — the mysterious, yet palpable force that those of the higher Ranks knew how to wield.

Sadly, although Jet was as strong as a Supreme, she was not a Sovereign. She could not even begin to imagine how to harness her own nascent Will, let alone how to use it to suppress the influence of a far more ancient horror.

But that was alright.

'Corruption must have rotted his brain.'

Having the Will was neat, but the captain of the Dutchman seemed to have forgotten a simple fact — the simplest fact, really.

In a battle between two skilled warriors, the one wielding a longer weapon usually won.

'Who asked you to turn the Soul of Kanakht into a cutlass, idiot?'

Despite the world itself working against Jet, her war scythe reached the sinister apparition long before his sword could get anywhere near her.

Granted, she was slower than she had hoped, and her aim was slightly off. But it still forced the Cursed Wanderer to block her blow with the blade of his ethereal cutlass.

Jet had seen how easily that horrid blade cut down the shades, severing their inky-black bodies as if meeting no resistance. After all, it was the Soul of Kanakht — a being far more ancient and powerful than they were. A remnant of a dreadful fiend who was almost as old as existence itself.

But when the Soul of Kanakht met the Mist Blade…

A crack appeared on its surface, and the Cursed Wanderer reeled back.

Finally, his mask of indifferent malice was lifted, revealing a rare moment of confusion and shock.

Jet grinned.

She was the Soul Reaper, after all. Her Aspect allowed her to deliver tangible attacks to intangible souls.

So why would anyone try to block her attacks… with the Soul of Kanakht?