Infinity, The Arcade Age-Chapter 417: The Righteous Blood King

As blood rose from the corpses around them, it surged madly toward Qin Ming.

If Qin Ming had just now looked like the so-called King of the Holy Fork, then at this moment, controlling blood like this, he looked more like a villain than the Evil Archduke himself.

A torrent of blood swept in from the front, violently blasting the Evil Archduke into the air.

Before the tumbling Evil Archduke could struggle to get back up, the blood that had seeped into his armor through its seams suddenly congealed. It was yanked sharply by Qin Ming's will.

With a thunderous crash, the Evil Archduke was flung across the air and slammed headfirst into a nearby pillar, shattering it instantly.

Even before the cloud of dust could settle, Qin Ming, striding toward him, raised a hand and forcefully swung it downward.

With a loud splash, the hovering blood gathered into spikes and rained down like a storm, smashing into the Evil Archduke, drawing a scream of agony from him.

His body now riddled with blood spikes, the Evil Archduke roared and slapped the ground, launching himself back into the air.

Swinging his Starhammer wildly, he charged toward Qin Ming in an attempt to retaliate.

But before he could even reach him, Qin Ming, expression grim, flung his hand to the side—and the Evil Archduke was sent flying uncontrollably, crashing into the wall once more.

Blood manipulation—this was a terrifying power!

As blood spread across the field, it became like an extension of Qin Ming's limbs, bending to his will!

If there was enough blood, he could even retrieve objects at a distance with ease!

And on this battlefield, if anything was in abundant supply, it was blood.

In other words—the battlefield belonged to Qin Ming!

Embedded in the wall after being hurled again, the Evil Archduke suddenly felt his body lighten. The next second, he was pulled into the air by countless strands of blood.

Before he could struggle free, he felt his armor tighten unnaturally. Looking down, he saw blood furiously pouring toward him, rapidly hardening and compressing.

The solidified blood was squeezing his armor with terrifying force, causing the once elegant armor to cave in upon itself.

Qin Ming was actually trying to crush him to death from a distance—using blood!

Sensing something was wrong, the Evil Archduke panicked and looked up at Qin Ming, who was raising his hand and straining with effort, veins bulging on his forehead. The armor around him kept tightening with terrifying pressure.

Struggling desperately but unable to break free from the blood's grip, the Evil Archduke could feel the crushing force on his body growing stronger. His face twisted in fury as he suddenly let out a fierce roar.

In the next moment—a terrifying shockwave burst outward from him, sweeping in all directions like a tidal wave!

Skill—Ultimate Impact!

Using the explosive force of this skill, the Evil Archduke forcefully shattered Qin Ming's killing move and crashed heavily to the ground.

Raising his head, his eyes glinting with menace, he saw Qin Ming still manipulating the blood, showing no intention of letting up.

With a flash of black light in his hand, the Evil Archduke suddenly began spinning the Starhammer with force.

The Starhammer, dragging chains behind it, truly turned into a meteor. Centered around the Evil Archduke, it instantly stirred up a terrifying storm.

Skill—Dark Vortex!

Fierce winds raged. All the decorations and furniture nearby were caught in the vortex and instantly torn apart.

It wasn't just furniture—even allies and enemies alike were indiscriminately sucked into the storm.

Anyone near the vortex was almost instantly torn apart, their armor twisted beyond recognition, their lives ended in an instant.

Under this storm, only a select few could barely hold their footing. Qin Ming was one of them.

He could stay steady partly because of his high attributes—and partly because of his sheer weight.

Staring at the fast-approaching vortex, his battle suit flapping noisily in the wind, Qin Ming's eyes flashed with a savage glint.

Faced with such a large-scale skill, the AI core of the Soundnest combat suit was useless. It could handle analyzing martial arts techniques, sure—but cracking this kind of large-scale killer move? That was simply asking too much.

Just because the battle suit couldn't counter it didn't mean Qin Ming couldn't.

Drawing a deep breath, Qin Ming suddenly spread his legs, one arm hanging down, and began frantically gathering blood in his palm.

Blood splashed outward, rapidly spinning around him like a vortex.

Ultimate skill—Blood Spiral Annihilation!

A storm against a storm! A vortex against a vortex!

The high-speed spinning chain meteor clashed directly with the rotating tornado of blood. The impact unleashed an ear-piercing screech.

Hardened blood droplets collided with debris in the storm, sending out blinding sparks with every strike.

The Evil Archduke hadn't expected Qin Ming to meet his killing move head-on with another. Enshrouded by the crimson storm, he was instantly battered and screamed in pain.

Qin Ming, too, stepped into the vortex. Blood was flaying his body raw.

This brutal clash lasted for over thirty seconds. When the final explosion rang out and both were hurled back, the once-opulent hall had been reduced to utter ruin.

Qin Ming tumbled across the ground, then caught himself with one hand, carving five deep grooves into the floor before managing to stand.

As his skill activated, wounds across his body healed at incredible speed, and in the blink of an eye, he was back to normal.

In stark contrast, the Evil Archduke was in miserable shape.

Lacking any self-healing abilities, his armor was completely mangled, his body covered in bloody gashes.

But there was a reason he could become the Evil Emperor.

Though he wasn't as formidable as his elder brother, he was still one of the top-tier powerhouses of his era—a vanguard general of the battlefield.

Even after taking Qin Ming's ultimate skill head-on, he could still stand—and showed no signs of critical injury.

Rising slowly, the Duke tore off his faceplate, his gaze locked venomously on Qin Ming.

Noticing how the damned militiamen—despite heavy casualties—were already swarming forward again, he finally spoke coldly:

"Answer me, so-called Chosen King. How did you make them so fearless in death?"

As he spoke, the Duke began ripping off his damaged armor.

He'd realized these plates no longer protected him—his enemy's blood could penetrate any crevice. Worse, the warped metal now hindered his movement.

Then off it comes!

Bare-chested and hefting his morning star, the Duke snarled:

"Using the blood of the dead to fight! Even healing yourself with it! What part of you resembles a hero? Why would they follow you so blindly?!"

This truly baffled him. Losing to Arthur would've been understandable—that knight epitomized righteousness in both appearance and ability.

But this bastard's methods were darker than his own! By what right did he represent justice?!

It was like being a bandit raiding villages, only for the peasants to summon a "hero" to stop you...

...and that "hero" turns out to be a necromancer who raises corpses!

What kind of twisted farce was this?!

This brat's powers screamed final boss material in any story!

Hearing the accusation, the surrounding Pitchfork Knights erupted indignantly:

"Shut your mouth, tyrant! Don't slander His Holy Majesty!"

"Exactly! How is blood control evil? Blood flows within us all—where's the evil in that?!"

"His Majesty was chosen by the Holy Pitchfork precisely because he refuses to kill! You're the real monster with that murderous hammer!"

The verbal barrage left the Duke grimacing.

These peasants clearly didn't care what abilities their leader had.

Even if he raised the dead, they'd claim the corpses consented to fight!

"Why can he resurrect them and you can't?!"

Justice was simply a matter of perspective.

On the "right" side? Even plague-spreading could be virtuous.

On the "wrong" side? Life-giving powers became wicked.

And who decided right and wrong?

The victors, of course.

For two centuries, the Duke had consolidated power by oppressing peasants to strengthen his armies—earning their hatred but his soldiers' loyalty.

To his troops, he embodied justice.

Now Qin Ming's peasant uprising had shattered that order, cornering the Duke with overwhelming numbers.

At this moment?

Even if God Himself declared Qin Ming evil, these militiamen would nail Him to a cross as a false deity!

Reality was that simple.

What made power "good" or "evil"?

Human convenience decided.

Any force that helped you—and harmed none you cared about—could be sanctified, even if it meant calling down meteor strikes that slaughtered millions.

Facing the encircling pitchfork-wielding horde, the armorless Duke knew his time had come.

Perhaps his brother—now gathering the naval fleet, elite legions, and unfinished superweapons—might eventually crush this rebellion.

But he wouldn't live to see it.

So he leveled his morning star at Qin Ming in formal challenge:

"King of Honeyed Words! I challenge you to an honorable knight's duel!"

The Pitchfork Knights immediately protested—why duel when they had overwhelming numbers?

Where was this "honor" when armored knights chased down unarmed peasants?

But Qin Ming silenced them with a gesture.

Taking a reinforced pitchfork from Quartermaster Toretia, he met the Duke's gaze coldly:

"Then I'll be taking your head—and keys—in advance."

For the treasure chest—ahem—for justice, Qin Ming accepted!

(End of Chapter)