Night Journey

Chapter 166 Countdown

Amidst the dizziness and hallucinations, Ciri instinctively raised his sword to parry. The shockwave from the impact spread along his arm bones, as if he had been struck by a battering ram, and the sole of his boot dragged two deep grooves in the scorched earth.

As he leaned on his chain-blade sword, a conversation flashed through Cillian's mind.

"In conclusion, the truly terrifying aspect of the power of returning to silence is that it can trap you in a cycle of amnesia."

In her memory, Anya had said this to Cillian in a serious tone.

"Imagine, Cillian, you tested Dekar's various abilities and figured out his fighting style in the face of life and death, but before you could use this information, you lost this crucial memory due to the power of Nirvana."

Although the duration and recovery period of your lost memories will vary depending on the strength of the Returning to Nothingness power, you must not presume to withstand round after round of attacks and wait for your memories to recover on their own.

Anya warned,
"Remember, the battle is ongoing. The power of Nirvana will only continue to erode your memories and will never give you a chance to recover on your own..."

Cillian snapped out of her reverie and continued her sentence.

"Therefore, this is destined to be a round-robin contest. We must figure out the triggering rules of the power of returning to silence. Once attacked, we must immediately create distance and never give the opponent a chance to pursue us."

Having realized this, Cillian continued to retreat, trying to maintain a relatively safe distance before escaping the influence of the power of Nirvana.

Decal was well aware of his weaknesses and had no intention of giving Cirion time to recover.

The flail was swung in a fierce and relentless pursuit, each strike swift and heavy.

Even though Cillian could block them all, the immense force they brought still made him suffer terribly. Not to mention, he would experience hallucinations to some extent with each contact.

The chaotic illusions kept flashing by, while the power of returning to stillness, like a venomous snake, was poised to strike.

In the critical moment, despite his mental and physical discomfort, Cillian pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck the ground beneath their feet, and a fireball rapidly expanded and grew. The scorching power of the soul essence evaporated the rain and cleared away the thick fog. The roaring heat wave forcibly separated Cirion and Dekar, hurling them towards opposite ends of the ruins.

"That's really powerful, Bruce..."

Cillian crawled out of the ruins in a disheveled state, his hand gripping the Raging Stream Revolver trembling slightly from the terrifying recoil.

After the Jet Revolver was upgraded to the Rage Revolver, Bruce upgraded the Soul Essence Bullet for this final battle.

More essence, greater power, and a bigger explosion.

With the fireball that shot up from the ground, Cillian finally escaped from the relentless pursuit.

At the same time, the broken memory lines healed, and he roughly estimated that he had only lost a few seconds of memory, and in this brief memory, there happened to be the judgment on the flail's ability.

Cillian continued his analysis.

"From this perspective, the release of the power of returning to stillness either requires physical contact or release through a medium through which source energy surges."

Just now, Dekar used the mist to create illusions for himself, while also evaporating his memories.

However, because Cillian withdrew so quickly, neither the hallucinations nor the memories lasted long, which gave him a chance to continue.

"Are they trying to escape?"

Decal slowed his pace and approached cautiously.

His posture appeared flawless and powerful, but Cillian had already seen through his weakness.

The formation of dense fog requires a continuous consumption of source energy and cannot be coordinated with Dekar's relocation in a timely manner. In the end, he still has to fight a positional war against himself.

As long as Cirion maintains a safe distance and continues to wear down Decal, the scales of victory will tip in his favor.

Similarly, De Karl was well aware of this flaw in himself.

The first round of attacks failed to hold Cillian, making it much more difficult to get closer and drag him into the quagmire of nothingness.

Not to mention……

Decal looked around.

The ruins of the collapsed observation deck spilled down, crushing large sections of the lower buildings. Steel beams twisted, buildings collapsed, and flames continued to burn and crackle among the wreckage.

The devastation in this area is stark, yet no reinforcements have been seen despite the ongoing battle.

At first, Decal almost believed that he had been betrayed by the city council, but then images of explosions happening all over the city flashed through his mind, and everything suddenly became clear.

"You're really willing to go to great lengths to assassinate me."

Decal sneered inwardly.

The explosions that swept across the city were not a declaration of war, but a carefully planned feint to divert the attention of the city-state's various departments.

The vast majority of superhumans must have been urgently dispatched to various explosion sites and were busy running around, so where would they have the spare energy to pay attention to this place?

As for those councilors who fell with the observation deck... De Karl naturally didn't expect those terrified cowards to be of any use.

Moreover, De Karl had always had a question in his mind.

Is the Reverse Falcon really alone?

On the surface, only Reverse Falcon is active in Hel City, but who knows how many groups of people are secretly working for him?
Decal felt no unease about this; on the contrary, he was overjoyed.

Once he defeats the Reverse Falcon, he will unify the forces of Hel City, and then no one will hinder his actions.

So... what are we waiting for? Dekar launched a surprise attack, tearing through the lingering smoke and heat, and pursued them once more like a leech.

The ruins were their battlefield, but also the cage that Cirion was trying so hard to escape.

The collapsed wreckage piled up like hills, twisted steel bars pierced the thick fog like the ribs of a giant beast, and flames licked at the broken walls and ruins, making crackling echoes.

Ciri fought and retreated, each step landing on scorching bricks or slippery metal surfaces, his figure appearing and disappearing amidst the thick smoke and the still-burning flames.

The cold glint of the chainblade and the weight of the flail danced and collided wildly in the cracks of the ruins!
Each parry left Cirion's arm numb and aching, while Dekar's attacks were relentless, his flail sweeping across with a chilling whistle, slamming repeatedly against the barely held back sword spine.

Just as Cillian was trying to slide sideways over a twisted steel beam, Decal seized the momentary spatial constraint and swung his flail from below at a tricky angle!

With a muffled thud, an overwhelming force pierced through the defenses and slammed into Cirion's chest.

His vision went black, his blood rushed to his throat, a metallic taste filled his mouth, and more deadly, the familiar coldness once again invaded his mind.

Detonate nothingness!

A brief memory gap formed instantly; the prediction of the flail's trajectory and the planning of the retreat route vanished without a trace, as if erased by an eraser.

However, amidst the excruciating pain of this severed memory, a pocket watch had somehow ended up in Ciri's hand, the watch chain digging deep into his forearm.

This pocket watch was one of the few things he took with him from Baiya Town.

In the instant he was struck, Cillian instinctively pressed the timer button.

puff!

The modified spikes on the back of the watch case instantly pierced his palm, the sharp pain shooting straight to his nerves.

As Cillian's consciousness emerged from the blank in his memory and he came to terms with reality, the sharp pain in his palm forced him to look at his pocket watch.

At this moment, the countdown timer is in the area painted green.

This means that less than a minute had passed between when Ciri was hit by the power of Nirvana and when the memory lines were reconnected.

The intense pain intertwined with the warning green light, instantly dispelling the confusion brought on by memory loss.

But by then, De Karl had closed in on him.

In his eyes, Cirion's greatest asset was the chainblade's attack range, which far exceeded that of the flail.

At this moment, the distance has been forcibly shortened, and the advantage has vanished.

The illusion spread through the thick fog like ink dripping into water, distorting and swaying the vision. However, this time, the chainblade in Cillian's hand did not shatter and transform into a wildly dancing silver snake as usual.

He held the cold blade firmly in his hand, its sharp tip gleaming with a deep, chilling light.

Decal's pupils contracted slightly. In a daze, he saw another astonishing scene in the fog illusion he had created—countless ghostly phantoms gathered and twisted in the eerie light of the sword tip. They wailed and screamed silently, lamenting the despair of an eternal nightmare.

He did not stop, but instead intensified his attack, the flail carrying immense force as it slammed down towards Cirion's head.

At the critical moment, Cillian did not use his sword to block, but instead suddenly raised his left arm.

With a sickening thud, the menacing hammerhead slammed into his left arm as he blocked, tearing his skin, causing bruising to spread rapidly. His bones groaned under the strain, as if they were about to shatter at any moment, and intense pain shot through his body like an electric shock.

At that very moment, the Chainblade transformed into a resolute, ghostly light, precisely piercing Dekar's throat.

Unfortunately, the hazy hallucinations clouded Cillian's judgment, and the fatal blow that should have pierced his throat was slightly deflected at the last moment.

The sharp sword tip tore through Dekar's clothes and dug deep into his abdomen, the warm blood instantly soaking into his robes.

The excruciating pain contorted Decal's face, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper ecstasy.

Cillian surprisingly abandoned the tactic of maintaining distance and chose to fight to the death in close combat, which was exactly what he wanted.

"Suffer to death!"

Decal let out a deep roar and unhesitatingly unleashed the power of Nirvana.

This time, he wanted to completely erase all of Cirion's memories and cognition, turning his mind into a complete and chaotic mess.

He could even see himself personally removing that unsightly six-eyed winged helmet, displaying Ciri's head high, and making it a bloody sacrifice for the rebirth of Hel City!
This wonderful fantasy expanded rapidly like a bubble... only to burst abruptly in the next second!
The sneer on Dekar's face froze instantly, turning into unbelievable horror.

He was horrified to discover that the surging source energy within his body had stagnated and frozen, and the power of returning to stillness was firmly imprisoned by invisible shackles.

The Soul-Splitting Alloy that pierced his body blocked the flow of source energy and silenced the release of the power of returning to stillness. It even further wounded Dekar's soul.

In the excruciating pain that could shatter reason, Decal drew his chainblade, swung his flail once more, and pushed Cirion out of the thick fog.

In the howling wind and rain, two wounded figures, like weary wild beasts, panted and recovered their strength, preparing for the next round of fighting.

Decal exclaimed in admiration, clutching the wound on his abdomen, blood gushing from between his fingers.

"As expected of my opponent, Reverse Falcon."

Without saying a word, Cillian picked up the pocket watch again along the chain.

The countdown was reset to zero. My palm was stabbed and bleeding profusely, blood dripping down like the ticking of a second hand.

(End of this chapter)