Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1363 - 836: Lanci’s Hell Siege Battle_10

This is a hall beyond the intelligence we have gathered.

It's not one of the Soul Hall, Hall of Annihilation, or Piercing Cold Hall seen in the Shadow World last time.

At this moment.

The sound of dripping water, something that shouldn't exist in the council chamber, echoed.

A faint green light appeared deep within the palace, and from the lifeless ground emerged a tender green sprout.

It grew wildly before the eyes of one and all, the vines twisting like serpents, the rustling of leaves filling the air.

In an instant, a human-height tree broke through the earth, its trunk splitting open to reveal a graceful figure emerging slowly, like a butterfly breaking from its cocoon.

Her skin was as pale as snow, her long golden hair cascading gently, reaching her waist.

Her slender eyelashes fluttered lightly, and when her eyes slowly opened, they resembled fresh spring leaves—or perhaps deep emerald pools—clear and luminous, filled with an ethereal glimmer.

"The legendary Bingxue Witch? Even more beautiful than I imagined, meeting you truly fills me with joy."

A fair-haired, green-eyed woman who had appeared in the palace clasped her hands together with a smile.

This alone sent a chill down the Bingxue Witch's spine.

She cautiously turned her gaze toward this Cardinal Bishop.

"Withered Bishop Nedodichka..."

The Bingxue Witch instinctively avoided direct eye contact with the Cardinal Bishop. freewebnoveℓ.com

Though their compatibility wouldn't be described as terrible, the fundamental issue was that the Withered Bishop was simply stronger than the Bingxue Witch—so much stronger that the Bingxue Witch posed almost no threat to her.

Over time, it was clear that in prolonged battle, the Bingxue Witch would neither win nor escape.

It was a slow death, a struggle without hope.

...

The eastern side of Blood Moon City.

At Piercing Cold Hall, guarded loyally by the Seventh Ancestor Marquis Helitier, another fierce battle erupted.

The hall rested on a frozen expanse of lake, surrounded by piercing winds, and crystalline ice danced through the air.

The ice layers upon the lake were meters thick, their surface as smooth as mirrors, reflecting the shadow of the grand hall.

"Of all the enemies, you chose me? A proper revenge match, indeed."

Sigrid carved streaks in the air with her movements, her fists easily shattering layer after layer of ice barriers.

The hall itself stood as a blood-tinged ice sculpture, a vast space adorned with translucent ice pillars, concealing countless dark currents beneath the ice layers, primed to pull invaders into the frozen abyss at any given moment.

The hall's innate trait was its ability to sporadically freeze intruders—fortunately, Sigrid possessed remarkably high resistance against freezing.

"Never thought you'd turn out to be Wolf Clan."

The Seventh Ancestor Helitier maintained a spectral form, her pitch-black rod raised as she traced a star map in the air.

She seemed to grasp the Bishop of Hegemony's intentions.

This adversary, being of Wolf Clan, shared a historical blood feud with the Blood Clan—there was no denying the Blood Clan had once slaughtered many of her kin.

However, Helitier refrained from directly engaging the opponent's strongest fighter, Sigrid; instead, she aimed solely to stall her.

Beyond her station here, every battlefield suffered grave disadvantages.

If Helitier managed to hold Sigrid here long enough, the opponent's forces would inevitably crumple like a line of dominoes.

The more impatient Sigrid grew, the harder it became to catch her; there was no way out of Piercing Cold Hall.

The star map began to rotate slowly, countless stars emerging from it, encircling the Bishop of Hegemony, Sigrid.

As Sigrid swung her fists, the stars adjusted their positions, guiding Helitier with the best evasion routes while destabilizing Sigrid's balance.

When Sigrid's fist winds approached, the stars released dazzling light, neutralizing them entirely.

"You're such a frustrating thing!"

Sigrid, watching as her attacks failed time after time, furrowed her brows in agitation.

This was the same person who had mocked her in dreams—one she fully intended to defeat as her fully-powered self—and now, instead, the opponent simply kept stalling, igniting frustration within her.

Upon reflection, only the Bingxue Witch was adequately suited to fighting in Piercing Cold Hall, though Helitier never intended for the Bingxue Witch to fight in the freezing domain of Blood Moon City's eastern flank. Helitier would send her to the worst sub-halls instead.

"No matter how hurried you become, it won't matter. Without special mechanisms, your sheer force makes you the easiest enemy for me to deal with."

Helitier's cold expression remained unwavering.

Though her power of divination was formidable, its mana consumption was equally taxing.

The effort to stall Sigrid proved unexpectedly manageable.

Even the Wolf Clan–provided near-immortal regenerative abilities in Blood Moon City—couldn't faze her.

Helitier's sole mission at Piercing Cold Hall was to stall Sigrid, ensuring advantages were leveraged across the other four sub-halls, and, most critically, the Blood King Palace.

As she waved her rod once more, the hall's four walls began to shift, with countless ice pillars protruding from the ground and walls. The Ice Cone Formation endlessly shifted positions, launching itself aggressively toward Sigrid.

...

On Blood Moon City's northern side—a haunted land scattered with skeletal remains—the Soul Hall loomed ominously.

Within its pitch-black halls, endless wailing and moans echoed, the walls adorned with corroded chains and shackles, its ground littered with splintered bones and flesh fragments.

Outside the hall lay barren, ruined lands, its cracked and scorched surface riddled with veins of destruction, unable to withstand the palpable malice emanating from here.

At the heart of the hall, a sinister altar emitted eerie violet light, surrounded by several black stone pillars, at the center of which hung an iron bell. Its surface, encrusted in rust and cracks, weakened any intruders with each resonating toll.

Within this Soul Hall, the Ninth Primogenitor Marquis Bainhardt and Isatia fought to the death.

Isatia reeled under the relentless weakening curses, a debilitating trait of the Soul Hall.

Though she wielded mastery over curses, with considerable resistance to afflicted states, her inability to purify her healing left her vulnerable—an inherent disadvantage amplified against the Ninth Primogenitor Marquis Bainhardt.

Now she found herself caught in a grueling predicament.

In a surreal and nightmarish transformation, the Ninth Primogenitor Marquis Bainhardt had morphed into a grotesque entity of protruding, pulsating eyeballs. Isatia was at a loss as to how to combat such an abomination.