In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 504: Blossoming Amidst Slaughter (1)

The phrase “tear them apart” sounded like a hypothetical statement, often used in mobilization orders. It had a certain momentum, especially for ordinary people.

However, perhaps there was some unspoken understanding among killers, Jack didn’t take this innocent phrase as a declaration of war. He understood what Schiller meant, which was literally to “tear them apart.”

If a monster possessed regenerative abilities, the best way to deal with them wasn’t to pierce them, but to cut them. Because no regenerative ability could recover body parts limitlessly. To put it more extremely, regenerative abilities couldn’t save minced meat.

“Slash! Slash! Slash!”

With each swing of Jack’s curved blade, the blade light resembled crescent moons hanging in the sky. As several crescent moons swept around him, they unfolded like petals, gradually expanding.

The first Jackal monster to be touched by the blade light suffered slashes to its neck, chest, abdomen, and right thigh. Its fur and muscles failed to defend against the attack, and even its bones couldn’t stop the curved blade. The moonlight killer’s blade passed through, cutting through it like semi-melted butter.

When Jack’s figure blinked behind the monster, under the moonlight, the monster collapsed behind him like a stack of blocks built by a child.

On the cross-section of the fragmented limbs, the purple light of Blinking continued incessantly. However, this regenerative ability found itself in an awkward position. The severed body parts were almost uniform in size. No matter which piece was used as material to resurrect this monster, at least 90% of the flesh would need to be fabricated out of thin air.

After flashing twice, the purple light disappeared as if the power had been cut. The bloody fragments also turned into black water, vanishing into the gaps in the ground.

Schiller, who had been gazing at that spot, turned his head back. Arthur also withdrew his gaze, and the two of them looked at each other simultaneously. In that fleeting moment of eye contact, Arthur suddenly realized what Schiller intended to do.

The gruesome scene of the dismembered monster flashed through his mind. How Arthur wished he were a true fanatic, able to use faith as his last line of defense in his mind. But he wasn’t.

Or rather, even a fanatic would feel fear when witnessing something that even a deity with supreme power couldn’t save.

Looking at the moon symbol on Marc’s chest, Arthur gritted his teeth and said, “Khonshu… Khonshu… you hypocritical thief, look at what you’ve done!”

“You created two sinners with your own hands! Irredeemable murderers…” Arthur didn’t even notice that his tone was trembling.

At this moment, he saw Schiller, holding the umbrella sword, slowly approaching him.

Unlike the lightning-fast speed of his previous assault, Schiller began to walk forward step by step. With each step of his polished shoes on the ground, the water puddles left by the melting monsters reflected his shoes and tidy pants.

The blade’s edge scraped across the ground, reflecting Schiller like a mirror. Moonlight climbed from his feet upward, gradually turning his dark Suit into silver.

When the umbrella sword was lifted and held in front of Schiller, one side of the blade reflected Schiller with the mouthpiece of his iron mask, while the other side reflected Arthur’s devastated expression…

The two were now just a few inches apart, separated only by an umbrella. This prolonged approach had completely shattered Arthur’s psychological defenses. He fell, trembled, and began to scream in anguish.

Arthur was a doctor and a cultist, even a cult pope. But to a born serial killer, everyone except their kind was prey, vulnerable victims.

Fixate on the target, probe repeatedly, find weaknesses.

Inflict harm, torment, oppress until fear, collapse, loss of humanity.

Reduce them from humanity to beasts that only roar and cry, guided by instincts, overwhelmed by fear.

For these born psychopaths, deriving unmatched pleasure from this process was essential fuel for their existence in this world.

Arthur weakly extended his staff to block the oncoming dagger, but as he faced the face in front of him, he saw only cruelty and indifference completely devoid of humanity in the eyes and brows. It was sharper than any weapon, shattering Arthur’s will. Once the psychological defense was shattered, no physical resistance mattered anymore.

Schiller twirled the umbrella, its handle facing Arthur. The clashing of metal against metal rang out, like the rapid and urgent beats of a life-or-death drum in the opening act of a drama—

“Bang!” A sound, and the staff was knocked out, followed by a “clatter” as it fell into the muddy water.

Arthur fell to the ground, amidst the splashes of water. In the reflection, Schiller’s terrifying figure slowly raised the umbrella sword.

Suddenly, Khonshu appeared by Schiller’s side, saying, “He was once my follower, spare him…”

To Khonshu’s surprise, Schiller actually stopped his movement. However, he soon realized that Schiller’s pause wasn’t due to his command but because of Arthur, who was lying on the ground. Arthur’s face was transforming into the shape of a crocodile head through blinking.

“Step aside, Ammit is about to descend,” Khonshu reminded.

Schiller rapidly retreated, accompanied by a primal roar. An equally colossal figure descended behind Arthur.

Schiller had remained calm throughout, seemingly unfazed by the situation. However, at this point, Khonshu stepped forward and said:

“Ammit, projecting such powerful energy beyond the seal, you will be judged by the gods!”

“Same goes for you, Khonshu! You’ve even brought forth two followers!” Ammit’s voice was sharper than Khonshu’s, yet their dialogue showed that he, like Khonshu, possessed immense wisdom and was just as ancient.

Except for Khonshu’s initial question to Ammit in English, and Ammit’s English response, their communication was entirely in ancient Egyptian. As a result, after approximately twenty to thirty seconds of communication, the sharp blade light interrupted their conversation.

Ammit’s ethereal form faced the oncoming blade light from Schiller with disdain. But unlike his attack on Arthur, this time, a massive silver blade light appeared in front of the umbrella sword. As the crescent-shaped blade light streaked toward Ammit, he solidified a shield for defense. Ripples spread across the shield as the blade light made contact, then it vanished.

However, just as Ammit was about to retort Khonshu, a “swish” from behind shattered the air. A cross-shaped blade light ruthlessly slashed across Ammit’s back, sending him flying forward…

Ammit’s ethereal form adjusted its posture in midair, stabilizing himself. He intended to turn around and see who had attacked him, but just as he was about to do so, Schiller lunged again.

Jack, behind Ammit, retracted his dual blades, clasping their handles together. He twisted them, and a massive S-shaped boomerang blade appeared. Stepping back on one foot, he drew back the blade and hurled it with force.

Ammit narrowly dodged Schiller’s umbrella sword, only to be forced into a corner again by the large boomerang blade with a resounding sound.

Schiller’s blade was imbued with Khonshu’s unique lunar power. As it struck, Ammit’s ethereal form blinked for a moment, noticeably dimming.

“Khonshu!” Ammit roared, “How dare you take such sinners as your followers? The heavenly realm will judge you!”

Ammit’s words were again in ancient Egyptian, so Schiller and Jack didn’t understand and had no intention of understanding.

Khonshu seemed to be somewhat wary. He told Schiller, “Stop! Schiller…”

Then turning his head, he looked at Jack and said, “Jack, cease…”

However, both of them paid no attention. The silver radiance reflected against each other, like a vast net, enveloping Ammit. Ammit raged, cursing Khonshu continuously.

Khonshu also seemed angry that his followers were disregarding him. He felt that his dignity as a god was being challenged. He couldn’t allow this to happen, so he raised his staff and struck the ground fiercely.

A circle of silver ripples spread out from him as the center. When it passed over Schiller and Jack’s feet, the silver radiance around them vanished. After Khonshu withdrew the power of the Moon God, their battle attire disappeared.

“You are my followers; you should heed my commands…”

Khonshu considered himself quite patient. He thought that retracting his power was already gentle enough, given that Schiller and Jack had defied him so much. But obviously, these two killers didn’t share the same sentiment.

In the moment when the power disappeared, Schiller didn’t hesitate. Replacing the silver power was a mysterious gray mist.

What was even more terrifying was that this weaponry no longer transformed into blade light. Instead, it became countless tendrils extending from behind him. The gray tendrils spread out from Schiller’s back, attacking Ammit.

Ammit tried to Blink away, but the tendrils made of Grey Mist were like they had eyes, turning into numerous threads, chasing Ammit’s form until they enveloped him.

The Gray Mist tendrils were like voracious leeches, piercing into Ammit’s body one by one. They greedily absorbed energy. The energy-formed Ammit projection was drained within moments.

Before disappearing, Ammit shouted, “Khonshu, you collude with the dark gods. I will summon the Twelve Pillars of Gods to judge you!”

With a long scream, Ammit vanished. The satiated and intoxicated gray mist tendrils swaggered, their dance appearing incredibly terrifying and eerie in the darkness, too unsettling to look at.

Schiller turned around. His eye sockets were no longer visible, covered in pervasive gray mist. His eye contact fell upon Khonshu.

Khonshu’s falcon-headed skeleton slowly turned 180 degrees backward, pretending not to have seen anything, and then vanished with a “whisper”…

“Oh, damn it, my jaw…” Marc’s personality reasserted itself. He exclaimed, squinting his eyes as he surveyed the wreckage around him.

The battlefield was marred with huge trenches left by the massive blade light. Muddy black water filled the gaps. The car Arthur had driven had exploded at some point, now a charred wreck. Arthur lay not far from the car, his fate uncertain.

Marc stood in the center of it all, his clothes slightly disheveled. He touched his garments, realizing that the scarab beetle he had concealed in his pocket was missing.

Somewhat perplexed, he bent down to search the spot. After scanning the area, he found nothing on the ground except for dirt and rocks. He slapped his forehead while resting his hands on his waist, sighing, “These symptoms are getting worse.”

Suddenly, as if remembering something, he turned his head and looked at Schiller. Schiller had returned to his normal state. Even the sharp tip of the umbrella had disappeared. Marc walked over and asked, “I recall you’re a psychologist, right? Quite skilled, I heard…”

“You…” Marc was about to say something when he felt a cool sensation on his cheek. Small raindrops landed on his face. Marc looked up, extended his hand, and realized that it was starting to rain.

In the darkness, rain lines seemed absent. Only the splashes on the ground heralded the arrival of a downpour. Schiller opened the umbrella he held, unaffected. However, Marc was somewhat embarrassed.

Seeing that Schiller had no intention of sharing the umbrella, Marc had to find a car on the side of the road. He picked the lock and got inside.

Schiller closed the umbrella and sat in the passenger seat. Marc started the car and then asked, “Where to now?”

“Germany.”

“Are you a psychologist?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, what about my situation… I mean, I intermittently experience memory loss and fainting. Is there a way to address this with psychological treatment?”

“I don’t perform psychological treatment.”

Marc turned his head, looking at Schiller in confusion. He asked, “Aren’t you a psychologist? If you don’t do psychological treatment, then what do you do?”

Marc saw Schiller slowly raise the umbrella in his hand. A eerie voice resonated in the car.

“I provide physical treatment.”

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