Ch.296Chapter 296: Sudden Change (4)

It would have ended in the blink of an eye.

After regaining my frozen time through my own power.

Imperfectio fiercely trying to stop Desire from knocking me unconscious.

And Desire, far from being angry at Imperfectio, instead frantically trying to calm her fierce gaze while squirming uncomfortably.

This brief standoff suddenly escalated when Imperfectio, who had sharpened the edge of her right hand, swung it toward Desire.

All of this should have ended in the blink of an eye, whether Imperfectio’s hand strike succeeded or failed.

As the past tense suggests.

Even as I’m internally reciting these lengthy thoughts, Imperfectio’s right-hand strike still hasn’t reached Desire.

It’s not because Imperfectio’s hand strike—emitting a golden aura that contrasted with her pitch-black armor made of dark sacred steel—was slow or dull.

Nor was it because Desire had noticed her attack and moved far beyond her reach.

Rather, the main reason was that my consciousness, despite my awkward posture, was perceiving this momentary scene as if time had stopped.

For someone like me who had experienced the miracle of turning back time and lived tenaciously with the determination to never return to my previous life.

My accelerated consciousness—which along with my hyper-regeneration had been most helpful in actual combat—had activated even though I wasn’t directly fighting.

It was strange. I wasn’t pushing my body to extremes like in actual combat where life and death are determined by momentary movements—I was merely watching someone else’s fight.

Thump-!!

My heartbeat inexplicably quickened.

And simultaneously, the flow of time in everything my eyes captured was moving sluggishly.

What was happening now typically only occurred when fully immersed in battle with both emotions and body heightened.

A question of why this was happening when I wasn’t directly fighting lingered in a corner of my mind.

But rather than seeking answers to that question, I needed to observe the sudden situation unfolding before me and find a way to respond, even if it didn’t directly involve me.

So I moved my head—the part that caused the least discomfort when moved—from side to side, taking in every detail of Imperfectio as she launched her surprise attack on Desire.

First, I noticed the gleaming black armor made of dark sacred steel—an ultra-metal forged from corrupted divinity—covering her entire body.

Then, as if to wash away that corruption, golden battle energy condensed around her right hand.

I could see that right hand tracing a golden arc as it moved toward Desire.

Perhaps because it was a golden energy shining in such a dark hall.

Its brilliance was so dazzling it could momentarily make the dark night sky seem like day.

It was extremely unusual to see such golden battle energy flashing from an agent of a demon god, who would be expected to exude corruption just from hearing about them.

Anyone, especially those belonging to this demonic realm where this situation was unfolding, would undoubtedly be horrified at the sight.

Fortunately(?), since few were witnessing this in my accelerated consciousness—the only one perceiving normal time in this frozen state—there was no need to worry about that.

Anyway, in normal time flow, everything would have ended before one could even perceive it.

But in this slowly perceived time, where all movement except mine should have appeared virtually frozen.

Swish-!!

The movement of Imperfectio’s golden hand strike, creating a cutting sound through the air as it descended from its apex, was quite fierce even in my consciousness’s slow time flow.

While Desire, the master of this demonic realm, stood motionless as if enslaved by the slow-flowing time in my consciousness.

Imperfectio’s movement was truly fierce, as if asserting that she possessed her own time within my consciousness, which made it impressive.

While her movement in this slow time was impressive in itself, something else also struck me as remarkable.

Compared to Desire’s right-hand strike that she had been about to swing to knock me unconscious earlier—with the smooth texture of her bare hand—

Imperfectio’s hand strike, encased in a gauntlet made of dark sacred steel, was noticeably heavier.

At first glance, it looked less like a hand strike and more like a blunt weapon being swung to effectively subdue an armored opponent.

Of course, it only appeared heavy.

Swiiish-!!

The killing intent emanating from Imperfectio’s hand strike, which mercilessly cut through the stagnant air of the hall with a ripping sound, was beyond what any blunt weapon could compare to.

Curious about the expression of the person about to be directly hit by such a strike, I barely managed to lift my head to observe Desire’s face as she faced this momentary situation.

“…”

I could see Desire frozen with the same panicked expression she had when trying to stop Imperfectio while breaking into a cold sweat.

Unlike Imperfectio, who showed impressive movement unrestrained by the slowly perceived time.

Desire appeared completely bound by the slow-flowing time I was perceiving.

Upon confirming Desire’s state, I instantly realized.

Ah, Desire can’t block that.

Even though Imperfectio’s hand strike trajectory had already covered more than half the distance to its target, Desire remained frozen, showing no signs of counterattacking or even attempting to dodge.

Swiiish-!!

I knew that Desire would be helplessly struck by the golden hand strike coming toward her with an unwavering trajectory, accompanied by a fierce cutting sound, though appearing somewhat slow.

[It’s going to hit.]

Even Fafnir, who shared my perception of slow time, was confident that Imperfectio’s hand strike would connect with Desire—no further explanation needed.

The golden arc traced by Imperfectio’s sharp hand strike, which both Fafnir and I were certain would hit, gradually accelerated even in the slowly flowing time.

It soon reached the vicinity of Desire’s crown—its apparent final destination.

Given that the strike combined a dark sacred steel gauntlet with golden battle energy that could sharply cut anything in its path.

There was no doubt that Desire’s crown, no matter how sturdy, would inevitably suffer some impact from a direct hit.

Probably, barring any unexpected developments, Imperfectio’s hand strike would hit Desire’s crown, causing a rather unseemly scream to burst from Desire’s mouth.

[How long has it been since I’ve heard that crazy woman’s piercing scream?]

Fafnir, who harbored no good feelings toward Desire even in jest, used somewhat vulgar expressions while eagerly anticipating Imperfectio’s hand strike landing on Desire’s crown.

And I, watching this while lying in an unseemly posture on the cold obsidian floor, shared that anticipation.

Despite being in a situation that could cause significant psychological disturbance.

Since the only way to escape from Desire, who was still maintaining the invisible physical force binding me to this place, was for Imperfectio’s hand strike to successfully hit Desire and disrupt her concentration.

My hope that her surprise attack would succeed and restore my physical freedom constituted the largest share of my current anticipation.

‘Thanks to her, I’ve escaped a somewhat dangerous situation, so I hope she succeeds.’

Whether it was intentional or the result of repeated coincidences.

Since I was able to safely overcome a precarious situation thanks to her roar that reclaimed the time stolen by Desire through her own power.

I also wanted her attack, filled with cold anger toward Desire, to properly land and vent justified anger at the demon god who had suddenly stolen her time.

This thought stemmed from a purely altruistic notion that since I had benefited, I wanted things to go well for her in return.

However, as if to show that hope and wishes are luxuries in this obsidian palace ruled by twisted divinity.

Signs of change began to appear in Desire, who had shown no movement, buried in this seemingly frozen time.

It started when life returned to Desire’s hazy eyes, which had been staring at the golden arc traced by Imperfectio’s hand strike as if entranced.

[…Hmm!!]

As Fafnir’s tense murmur, having noticed the change before me, calmly echoed in my mind.

An intense aura filled the already dark hall, making even me, at a reasonable distance, feel a chill throughout my body.

Battle energy. Pure battle energy in the worst sense—so dense and dark that ordinary people would have their core values twisted just by facing it, not even touching it.

Woooong-!!

It erupted from Desire’s body with a thunderous roar, simultaneously forming a curtain that enveloped her body.

Though I hadn’t seen it many times, it wasn’t an unfamiliar phenomenon.

This was the master of the palace, a demon god who, though twisted, possessed the minimum qualifications to be called a transcendent being.

Responding at the level of instinct rather than cognition to physical harm occurring outside her awareness.

Compared to when time first stopped, when her focus was hazy, light had returned to her eyes considerably, but given that there was still no noticeable change in her expression or other aspects.

It seemed Desire hadn’t yet fully grasped the physical harm approaching her body.

Yet despite her lack of awareness, the speed at which the curtain of battle energy deployed by her instinct formed was remarkably fast.

Even though my heightened senses and body, despite the mild but persistent pain, were still allowing me to perceive time as flowing slowly.

The battle energy rising from Desire’s body was protecting her at a speed that could only be described as instantaneous, even in this slowly flowing time.

Though it happened so quickly, Imperfectio clearly perceived Desire’s curtain of battle energy formed to block her attack.

Halt-!!

I could see hesitation forming in her golden arc, which had been tracing without the slightest wavering.

In a life-or-death confrontation where everything would be decided in an instant, it was obvious what such hesitation would lead to, and I barely managed to suppress a sigh that was about to escape.

On the other hand, I understood why such hesitation had occurred.

No matter how formidable the destructive power created by the combination of a gauntlet made of ultra-metal forged from divinity and golden battle energy.

The dark red curtain of battle energy enveloping Desire’s entire body, though hastily formed and seemingly haphazard, appeared sturdy enough to effortlessly block such destructive power—evident even to my distant eyes.

So it would be strange if Imperfectio, perceiving this up close, didn’t hesitate.

It was a regrettable situation. It was painful to watch a golden opportunity—where just one successful strike could deliver a fatal blow to a demon god—turn to bubbles.

If I could at least move my body, I could disrupt Desire’s concentration and consequently disrupt that curtain of battle energy.

But since that wasn’t possible, it was truly regrettable…

[If you can’t move your body, try throwing something else.]

‘…Ah.’

I hadn’t thought of that.

It seems I’ll have to abandon my practice of minimizing painful movements except for my head, which I can move relatively well.