The Witcher: The Journey to Transcendence from Marvel...

Chapter 535 Paradise

Without a second thought, David swung his arm and the Black Death Sword shot out like a black lightning bolt.

In all the stories he knew, Mephisto was always portrayed as a villain, cunning, treacherous, and impossible to guard against.

Although David was filled with hatred for God, it did not mean that he would easily believe in the devil.

The blade, imbued with a fierce aura, pierced Mephisto with devastating force.

Mephisto's body, like a bubble, instantly turned into countless tiny bubbles, slowly dissipating in the air.

"How dare you!"

An angry roar suddenly rang out from behind David.

David reacted quickly, turning around to see Mephisto clutching his hat tightly with his right hand. His once deep eyes were now bloodshot, and the evil aura emanating from him was so intense that it seemed to solidify, as if it could dye the surrounding air black.

However, Mephisto was wary of the Black Death Sword in David's hand, which radiated a mysterious light, and did not immediately launch a further attack.

"It seems your reputation isn't all that great."

In the midst of this tense atmosphere that made it almost impossible to breathe, a leisurely voice suddenly rang out, breaking the suffocating silence.

Wes walked out slowly with unhurried steps.

"I am Wes Irwin."

Weiss introduced himself calmly.

David had no idea that he would encounter two such "important" figures in one night.

The outbreak of war is absolutely related to Weiss, who has lost his family and home and suffered endless pain. Weiss is also to blame for all of this.

"Go to hell!"

The hatred that had been building up in his heart for so long, like a giant powder keg that had been ignited, exploded completely, turning into a surging black tide that burst its banks in an instant.

With this furious roar, the Black Death Sword he gripped tightly in his hand suddenly unleashed a sharp, chilling black sword light.

The sword light, carrying an intense aura of destruction, shot straight toward Wes, as if it wanted to completely devour him.

"Hey, your reputation isn't much better."

Mephisto's deep, slightly mocking voice rang out.

He curled his lips into a mocking smile, teasing Wes with ill intent, his words brimming with schadenfreude.

Wes's face instantly darkened.

He let out a cold snort through gritted teeth.

"Let's do it!"

Mephisto nodded slightly, and the black hat on his head swayed gently.

He muttered incantations and began reciting a string of obscure and difficult-to-understand spells.

As he continued chanting the incantation, the surrounding air seemed to be manipulated at will by an invisible hand, beginning to distort and tremble.

The next second, in a flash of light, David, Wes, and Mephisto vanished from their original positions.

What came into view was a world of white, the light soft and warm, like the gentlest sunshine in spring, falling softly on you without being dazzling.

If you pay close attention, you'll sense that this light carries a magical power that can gradually calm a person's tense mind.

David's gaze continued to wander, and he then discovered that several floating islands were actually around him.

These floating islands come in all shapes and sizes, and are quite bizarre.

Some resemble giant mushrooms, their rounded tops seemingly able to shelter them from the wind and rain;

Some resemble winding, coiling dragons, their agile forms suggesting they are about to take flight at any moment.

They floated quietly in this white space, exuding a mysterious and enchanting aura.

The melodious music flowed faintly from the island, its beautiful tune like a babbling brook in the mountains, clear and pleasant to the ear.

It's like a gentle breeze in the forest, lightly brushing by and bringing a touch of coolness.

The music was like a gentle hand, softly caressing David's heart.

At the same time, a sweet scent filled the air, a rich and fragrant aroma that seemed to blend with the fragrance of the most beautiful flowers in the world, making one unable to resist taking a deep breath.

Everything before my eyes was like a dream, a fairyland, or a paradise, captivating me completely.

"Where is this place?"

David's voice trembled involuntarily, filled with deep doubt and a hint of unease.

He instinctively gripped the Black Death Sword tightly in his hand; it was his only support.

Despite the breathtaking, dreamlike surroundings, his vigilance remained undiminished.

"Hey, as a believer, you're really not doing your job properly."

Mephisto's familiar voice rang out once again.

Because of the powerful spells he had cast earlier, which had consumed a lot of energy, his body shrank dramatically, becoming only half his original height.

His face showed a hint of fatigue, but his eyes still gleamed with a cunning light.

"This is paradise."

"Heaven??!"

Upon hearing this answer, David was instantly frozen in place, as if under a spell.

This was the place he had longed for and dreamed of reaching, all alone in the darkness during countless desperate nights.

Heaven is a sacred and inviolable palace, an ideal place that gathers all the beautiful things in the world, and a pure land where weary souls can find peace.

But now that he's actually here, he feels incredibly alienated and uneasy.

"There's a devilish aura about it."

A clear and authoritative voice broke the silence.

A group of angels, flapping their snow-white, broad, and powerful wings, were flying swiftly toward this place.

They were dressed in long white robes, which fluttered in the wind and appeared exceptionally holy against the white backdrop, radiating soft halos.

"It's up to you now."

Mephisto disappeared again.

David was the only one left at the scene.

"Punish him!"

The angels did not hesitate or ask any questions.

The bow is drawn and the arrow is nocked, its tip gleaming with a holy light.

A series of chords rang out, and countless arrows flew towards David like meteors.

David gripped the hilt of the Black Death sword, his knuckles turning white from the force.

With a deep roar, he swung the Black Death Sword violently, the blade flashing through the air like black lightning, drawing powerful black arcs.

The arrows shot by the angels were as fragile as glass the instant they touched the Black Death Sword's edge.

They shattered with a "crackling" sound.

The angels were all shocked to see their attack so easily neutralized.

David charged towards the angels.

The Black Death Sword seemed to come alive in his hands, like a nimble black dragon, darting left and right, soaring up and down with agile and swift movements.

(End of this chapter)