The Holy Grail War Blessed by the Gods

The heavens rejoice for you, the abyss cheers for you! Bless you, Ishtar.

Starlight fell from the sky, and the sky collapsed behind it.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Fighting

Venus's light twinkled in the sky, and as the morning star, it brought omens of good fortune. ④

Terrifying magic gathered in the sky, then crashed down, tearing through the clouds and unleashing an endless storm.

If you look up at the sky, you can see that the top of the sky is collapsing, and what the man of Qi worried about is becoming a reality at this moment. The collapse of heaven and earth is only a moment away.

"Tch, you're really annoying."

The light from the falling Venus immediately blocked his attack that was about to shatter Manju. Although the starlight only lasted for a very short time before being destroyed, the momentum of the attack was already hindered.

As the saying goes, one should press on with one's might, but the momentum wanes with each attempt, and exhausts itself with each subsequent one. The strength to continue moving forward has already diminished considerably, and the collapse of the sky is not a force that can be ignored.

Beowulf raised his shield, and you blocked the collapsing force with one hand, then slammed the iron hammer upwards with the other, shattering the falling sky as well.

Jue's attack, formed from magic, shattered like glass with a crisp sound, then scattered on the ground, leaving only aurora-like remnants of magic.

"You lazy bum, I can't keep arguing with you like this. I won't get any satisfaction this way. If you're not going to be quick about it, then I'll take your place."

Beowulf pointed his hammer at Manshu and cursed.

"Are you planning to end this? If you really have the ability, then go ahead and do it. If you can't put your fantasies into action, I'm afraid you won't be able to give up and recognize the situation you're facing."

Emanshu shook his head. This guy just wanted a pure brawl, so naturally, he couldn't satisfy Beowulf's desires.

A bare-handed fight is indeed an action that can be taken, but there is no need to satisfy the other party now.

Manjusaka came here to obtain information about Beowulf. If her desire for a fight were granted right away, she probably wouldn't even see the shield Beowulf used when he slew the dragon, or the giant's skin.

Liu was only able to witness Beowulf's terrifying strength and fighting skills in killing the giant Grendel, but not the whole story.

"The tumor is always talking in circles. Well then, come on, let me give you a taste of this."

However, this was naturally quite infuriating for Beowulf, so he was not prepared to continue resisting and genuinely intended to end the battle directly and destroy the enemy in front of him.

Therefore, he put away the iron hammer, snake-like weapon, and shield, and reached out to draw a terrifying heavy sword that was over two meters long.

The SiNa does not appear to be a weapon that humans should use, but rather an armor that should be wielded by a colossal giant whose size far exceeds that of humans.

With his immense strength, Beowulf, who was not a giant, lifted the heavy sword and began to wield it.

The history of this sword predates the arrival of the Norse gods, who inscribed runes on its hilt, marveling at its craftsmanship and the prosperity of the giant civilization.

The lines of runes on the hilt are poems lamenting the rise and fall of the ancient giants who forged this sword.

The giants perished in the flood, leaving behind only ancient artifacts and nothing more.

At the end of Beowulf's battle, the cave occupied by the fire dragon became the final resting place of the last giant.

After all his kin perished, the last ancient giant wept day and night until his death, and civilization perished, leaving behind only the forged ancient sword.

This is an ancient artifact created solely for killing and battle; aside from the runes left on the hilt, there is no other heritage or story left behind.

Therefore, all that remains on this sword is the long, flowing time, a long period of time long enough to bury everything and make all stories forgotten.

"Even though I can only use it twice, it's worth it if it can take down this annoying guy like you."

Beowulf gripped the heavy hilt of the sword and lifted the terrible greatsword with both hands.

"Die! That's all I have to say to that bastard: Sweod Eotenisc!"

The terrifying sword light unleashed the very essence of ancient times, along with the lamentations of giants and the fate of destruction and decay.

If used as a decisive weapon, such power is indeed sufficient; it is undoubtedly an attack whose power has reached the level of high firepower.

"It's not enough, far from enough. How could such power possibly make the sun set?"

Manju spoke loudly without fear, gripping the dragon spear in his hand. He once again called upon the power of the earth.

"Those who are already dead and destroyed, bow down to the wrath of the underworld! Spirit Peak embraces the saddle of the underworld (Kur Kigal Irkalla)!"

The earth trembled again, and the earthquake that caused the mountains to collapse brought with it the hammer of the underworld, but it still seemed that the power was not enough.

The roaring sound failed to tear apart the decaying years; instead, it gradually suppressed the light of the ancient giants from the depths of the earth, drawing upon the power that had been drawn upon them.

“I see the room filled with dust, where the master and priests dwell. Sorcerers and prophets dwell here, and the gods who anoint them in the underworld dwell here. Dust is their nourishment, mud is their food. The dead are crowded together, and the plight of the poor is even more wretched.”

Therefore, Manjushri began to depict the tragic scene of the underworld, a place that was pitch black and filled with dust, where one was like a bird wearing feathered robes.

The food and drink available to the deceased was extremely bitter, sometimes consisting of all sorts of filth, and the water was unusually salty and bitter, sometimes even sewage or muddy water.

Only by being judged by the judge Anunnaki before Ereshkigal, the ruler of the underworld, can one obtain a good life, drink clean water, and attain rest.

In ancient Mesopotamia, the concept of the underworld was still relatively vague. People did not pay much attention to the fate of souls in the underworld, but were more concerned with their present lives and the world at large.

The idea that the souls of the deceased would fall into the underworld and spend endless years of sorrow and grief became extremely popular.

Therefore, what Manju should summon is the underworld, a place of no return, connected to the abyss of Apsu.

The earth, constantly collapsing amidst the tremors, will reveal bottomless caves beneath a world with no visible boundaries.

The giant's light fell into this deep abyss, its end nowhere in sight; it simply darted through the darkness endlessly until the surging magic vanished.

"Do you have any other means, Beowulf? Bring out all the weapons and power you can muster. If not, then prepare to be destroyed by the sun."

Manju landed on the deep abyss below, in this underworld, where he no longer needed to worry about Beowulf rushing up again.

Stepping into this abyss, heading towards the underworld is not just a descent, it's a fall.

Seven gates will be erected one after another, with guards stationed inside to prevent anyone from easily approaching.

"This is quite a troublesome opponent, but this feeling of being in trouble is giving me a sense of familiarity. Ah, even though I still have the strength of my prime, it feels like I've returned to the time when I faced this dragon."

Beowulf's troubled expression finally disappeared, replaced by the excited look of a warrior.

"You're a hopeless madman, but you live up to your name and probably suit the sun's taste perfectly. So we'll have to deal with you here."

Seeing Beowulf in this state, Manshu naturally made up his mind to take him down.

"Then I'll grant your wish. Consider it my last act of care for you. Just come here, swing your fist, and let me beat you to death."

As Manshu spoke, he caused earth and rocks to rise from the abyss, forming a sizable disc that resembled a fighting arena.

9. "Wow, you're really something. You're actually taking the initiative to invite them out now. That's pretty suspicious, you bastard."

Sibeowulf raised an eyebrow, unable to understand Manshu's thoughts.

He didn't dwell on it, let out a heavy sigh, twisted his neck, and strode towards Manshu.

(ii) "I don't care what you want to do, I just want to beat you up badly, you bastard! Just get beaten and kicked!"

"Then you'd better prepare yourself mentally, be ready to be knocked down by the scorching sun right here."

(iii) Now that we are prepared to fight Beowulf hand-to-hand, the options we have are quite clear.

3. “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome them.”

Martha, wielding the arms and legs of Jacob, defeated Beowulf with her iron fists. This ability to wrestle with and defeat a god, to beat an archangel, is itself a terrifying skill.

Wu Manshu immediately swung his fists, unleashing the power to knock down angels and part the sea.

The two fists collided, and the stone platform on which they stood immediately cracked. The newly constructed arena was destroyed in an instant.

However, this does not prevent the two fighting here from relying on the earth for power. They can still launch comet-like lightning strikes by relying solely on the terrifying strength of their bodies.

Beowulf stomped his foot into the air below, shattering the atmosphere to keep himself suspended in mid-air, so as not to interfere with his punching.

This terrifying attack was like a howling storm, with the continuous barrage of fists giving the feeling that one's back had been replaced by several pairs of arms, as if, in an instant, not two fists, but ten were being swung.

Manshu didn't unleash any terrifying speed; he simply swung his fists one after another.

Blessed by the underworld, his hands were imbued with profound wisdom, and his body was magically etched with numerous insights. He allowed his physical body to wield this power, relying on these false, temporary memories.

If it comes down to a contest of skill application, Manjusuke would have a hard time defeating most Servants who are proficient in martial arts, but he doesn't need to devote himself to skill.

It only utilizes the technique of exerting force, employing the simplest and fastest method to kill the target. (鳩)

It will suffice to unleash the power to shatter mountains, part seas, and make all the peoples of the earth tremble.

The bones in his swinging arm creaked and groaned, the force exerted far exceeding the limits of his physical body. 4

But it doesn't matter; as long as the damaged body is restored with magic, that's fine. (8)

Squeezing this body isn't difficult; it just requires enduring some pain. 4

But such pain can actually ignite desire, or rather, trigger not-so-distant memories. (ii)

This only made Manju's punches more powerful, allowing him to use the acquired techniques more effectively. (9)

"Quite impressive, Beowulf. Smelling blood at such close range is truly exhilarating." (Ling)

Manju spoke in a loud voice, the scent of blood he smelled first emanating from himself, then flowing from the dragon slayer before him. (Noon)

Both of these factors fueled Manju's desire, prompting him to launch an attack with even greater urgency and ferocity.

"Tch, your punches are really powerful, you're clearly a guy about my age, what's with all the hiding and fussing in front of me?"

Beowulf responded with an equal, or even louder, voice.

He used the leather wrapped around his arms as boxing gloves, and with the same unbridled passion, poured his boxing into his boxing.

Beowulf revealed nothing superfluous but pure bestiality; before him lay a pure beast, a pure warrior.

"Ha, do you think anyone is qualified to stand before the sun? Only true warriors are worthy to fight me, let alone fight with fists."

Manju responded to Beowulf with the same sneer, then threw another full-force punch, tearing a piece of skin from his chest and splattering blood onto his arm.

"Even though punching is more satisfying, your mouth is still as bastard as ever. Let me tear your mouth apart before I start throwing punches."

To the torn flesh and the freely flowing blood, Beowulf only felt a gleeful smile.

"Can't you stop your boasting now? I should tear your mouth apart first, and then kill you."

The two fought entirely in the air, so it didn't cause too much damage to the surrounding area.

All that could be heard was the sound of air being torn apart and space being destroyed, and the stone platform that had been created earlier had long since vanished without a trace.

Blessed in this underworld, Manjushri, despite employing the skills of a saint and completely exploiting his own flesh, gained the upper hand.

Beowulf's offensive was gradually suppressed, the power he could muster was gradually weakening, and his momentum began to decline.

"Ugh, damn it... I never thought I'd feel tired one day."

Beowulf said breathlessly, but his expression of satisfaction was unmistakable.