DD Black White [307-308] (Patreon)

Chapter 307: Shrek Academy vs. Holy Spirit Cult

Above the ruins, majestic righteousness and baleful ghostly miasma crashed and squeezed against each other. The air cracked under the burden with explosive booms, and even space warped slightly, forming an invisible boundary line.

"Such trampling of life, such desecration of souls… how cruel!"

Jeanne's voice was no longer gentle; it trembled with a repression pushed to the extreme. She gripped her holy standard so tightly her knuckles blanched.

The silent wails and despair of countless resentful spirits stabbed like the sharpest needles into her kind heart, making her tremble faintly with wrath.

This saintly maiden, gentle by nature, revealed for the first time in her life a killing intent so clear and cold.

Even when facing the anti-matter legions—those voidrangers born only for destruction—she had merely fulfilled her duty to end them without hatred in her heart, for they were but the remnant embers of annihilation that should not exist—beyond saving, yet not deserving of blame.

But the evil soul masters before her were different.

They had been living humans, yet they committed atrocities against their own kind, using the blood and wails of innocents as the steps to climb toward power's peak. This thorough, willfully chosen fall into evil was a sin Jeanne could never tolerate and must utterly purify.

In her eyes, these evil soul masters of the Holy Spirit Cult were more wicked and unforgivable than mindless engines of destruction.

"In my Lord's name, I shall judge such grievous sin."

No longer hesitating, the saintly maiden, kindled by blazing anger, shattered the deadlock first.

She raised her holy standard high. A dazzling sacred radiance burst forth, like a second sun rising in a dim world, dispersing all gloom and, with peerless purifying power, roared toward the Holy Spirit cultists.

Judgment descended.

Jeanne's war boots stamped down, shattering the scorched earth beneath her. Gravel and dust splashed and churned in the turbulent air currents around her, like a storm girding a saint.

The lance wrapped in the sanctified banner became a golden meteor that tore the dim heavens. At its tip, a brilliance sufficient to purge all evil gathered, and at a speed beyond vision, it pierced the void—straight at Zhongli Wu.

Among all the evil soul masters, the Holy Spirit Cult's leader had the most oppressive, sinister aura. The resentment and blood-sin coiling about him had nearly condensed into substance, making him like a vortex of wailing souls—naturally Jeanne's first target for purification.

"Not good!"

Zhongli Wu's face changed drastically as a mortal crisis stabbed into his heart from the depths of his soul.

He could clearly sense that what the lance contained was no ordinary soul power, but a higher order force—a natural absolute bane to all filth and darkness—divine might enough to burn soul-flames and purify the origin.

He knew how terrifying Servants were; facing one personally now, he knew it all the more.

At the brink of life and death, Zhongli Wu held nothing back. Soul power surged around him like a flood bursting its dam.

Nine soul rings rose at his feet—black, black, black, black, black, black, red, red, red.

Especially the last three blood-red hundred-thousand-year rings—when they appeared, the crushing pressure seemed to congeal the air itself, enough to stall an ordinary Titled Douluo's soul power and shatter their mind.

"Roar—!"

A dragon's bellow shook the wilds. Space before Zhongli Wu twisted and caved, and a vast, suffocating terror descended.

It was a dark-gold bone dragon over a hundred meters long. Every bone gleamed with metallic chill, its colossal frame outlining an awe-inspiring silhouette of death.

In its eye sockets, two clusters of ghostly blue soul fire blazed, projecting a will of greed and destruction.

Its bony wings snapped open; the shadow they cast fell like the curtain of death, blotting out a large swath of sky—this was Zhongli Wu's strongest beast soul, driven by his Death God Demon Puppet martial soul: the Bone Dragon King, with defenses comparable to an Ultimate Douluo.

Clang—!!!!!

Jeanne's banner-lance, imbued with supreme holy power, crashed into the Bone Dragon King's dark-golden skull as hard as divine iron.

The deafening metal clash cracked like thunder. A ring-shaped shock wave of rampant energy spread out at once.

Gold light and ghostly blue soul fire intertwined, eroded, and annihilated each other madly.

The Bone Dragon King's mountain-like body staggered back several steps under the terrifying kinetic force contained in that strike. In the center of its previously indestructible skull appeared a fine yet shocking crack. The ghostly fire within flickered violently as if beaten by gale winds—clearly grievously wounded.

"What terrifying power!"

Zhongli Wu's heart surged with towering waves.

He could feel it clearly: not only physical impact rode upon that lance tip, but also a pure holy energy like boiling sacred water, frantically eroding and purifying the Bone Dragon King's soul fire at its source.

If not for the Bone Dragon King having been condensed by his lifetime of effort, with fathomless foundation, it would likely have been pierced through and wholly purified in that instant.

Failing to finish it in one blow, Jeanne's eyes cooled. With a deft twist of her wrist, the banner-lance flowed into a sweeping strike.

The tip cleaved the sky, trailing a gorgeous, deadly golden crescent, rending the air with the momentum to split mountains and seas, and hacked at the dragon's relatively slender neck bone.

With just a simple sweep, Jeanne's lance carved a deep, bone-revealing gash across the Bone Dragon King's thick neck.

Crack!

A tooth-aching fracture sounded. That seemingly simple sweep had cut a massive, bone-deep fissure in the dragon's hard neck.

Holy power clung to the wound like the greediest flame, racing inward along the crack to burn and purify, sizzling incessantly as foul black smoke billowed.

Under the continual damage from this natural bane, the soul fire in the dragon's eyes dimmed visibly to the naked eye. Even the beat of its vast bony wings turned sluggish and stiff, scraping harshly under the strain.

Zhongli Wu's eye twitched; his heart bled. The Bone Dragon King was the crystallization of half his life's effort; every fracture was carved upon his own soul.

Yet he dared not recall it—lose that stoutest bulwark, and Jeanne's terrible lance would, in the next second, sweep forward unstoppably and purify him together with his soul.

He could only grit his teeth, face contorted, and madly pour his vast soul power into the Bone Dragon King, trying to steady the collapsing trend and suppress that saintly energy that clung like a bone-borne canker.

"Cult Leader!"

Behind him, the Holy Spirit cultists turned pale with shock.

They had never imagined their mighty leader would be completely suppressed in a single exchange, and that even the strongest beast soul—the Bone Dragon King—would be on the verge of shattering.

Terror gave way to cornered frenzy. Several Titled Douluo-level evil soul masters crushed their fear of Servants and roared as they unleashed their most vicious soul skills, hoping to relieve pressure by attacking elsewhere.

Sky Centipede Douluo spewed a sky-filling dark-green poison miasma. It reeked nauseatingly; wherever it passed, even space sizzled as if corroded. The scorched earth melted, bubbling with countless lethal blisters.

Ten-Thousand Souls Douluo manifested behind him tens of thousands of twisted, tormented wraiths. Their soul-rending screeches converged into a gray-black spiritual torrent, ramming straight into Jeanne's sea of consciousness.

Abomination Douluo's body swelled like a bellows into a towering mound of flesh, stitched from rotting meat. It thundered forward with earth-shaking steps, hurling itself at Jeanne in a reckless charge…

"Don't you dare!"

Would Shrek Academy's elders stand idle while evil soul masters swarmed Jeanne? Almost the instant the enemy moved, they struck without hesitation.

From atop Xuan Zi's head, the horns of the Taotie Divine Ox blazed with heavy ocher light. His twin fists hammered out with mountain-rending force; the violent fist wind was near tangible, blasting and evaporating the spreading poison fog.

Another elder—white-haired and sharp as a sword—blurred into afterimages. With a guide-like sword finger, his soul power fanned into a sky of dazzling, razor-edged sword shadows that poured down like a tempest, precisely intercepting and shredding Ten-Thousand Souls Douluo's tide of wails midair.

Meanwhile, Elder Song appeared soundlessly in the Abomination's path.

The Greenshadow Divine Eagle's phantom flickered behind her. With a light beat of its great cyan wings, countless slicing cyan gales cleaved at space itself, forming a chasm-like barrier before the mountainous flesh monstrosity.

Boom boom boom—!!!

Soul skills of wildly different attributes but equal might collided and exploded over the ruins.

Dazzling, dangerous halos flashed madly. Shock waves spread ring upon ring like tsunamis, grinding the already tottering wreckage to dust. The earth groaned in agony.

A Titled Douluo melee was calamity; it could remake terrain in moments.

By the usual unspoken rules of the Douluo Continent, Titled Douluo must take their battles aloft to avoid harming innocents and cities.

But now, the entire Mingdu had been reduced to ruins—casualties beyond count, a living hell.

The survivors cowered in corners, clinging to life. Rules and scruples were powerless before this apocalyptic scene.

In such a situation, who cared for rules?

Both sides had only one thought—break the enemy as fast and as hard as possible, by any means.

In a blink, Shrek's elders and the Holy Spirit Cult's evil elders were fully entangled in carnage.

Chapter 308: Jing Yuan's Shifted Stance

Soul rings flared, soul skills thundered, roars and explosions rang without end.

The top powers on both sides were evenly matched, locked in a fierce stalemate.

Shrek and the Holy Spirit forces were all-in, neither side gaining the upper hand.

Yet everyone knew: Jeanne and the still-reserved Aglaea were two swords hanging above the Holy Spirit Cult. If they joined fully, the battle would tip at once.

But troublingly, both Zhongli Wu and Huo Yuhao at the eye of the storm showed no panic, only a cold poise that suggested everything was in hand.

"They're here."

Huo Yuhao suddenly looked up at the ominous blood moon overhead, now deeper red, and his lips curved in a frigid arc.

As if to confirm his words—

Boom!!!

A vast, savage figure radiating boundless brutality fell like a meteor, slamming into the earth.

The impact made the whole battlefield shudder, as if in a violent quake.

The newcomer was the Warhead Hoolay. With his arrival, the blood moon's light thickened, glaring and clotted, as though endless blood would drip to devour all light.

"Out of my way, woman!"

Hoolay's low growl rolled like muffled thunder. His scarlet pupils locked instantly onto Jeanne, who was suppressing the Bone Dragon King.

He swung his absurdly massive blade one-handed. It howled with mountain-breaking force, scarlet bloodflames roaring along its edge, cleaving the air as it hacked down toward Jeanne's back in the most direct and brutal fashion.

Plain as it was, the strike condensed peak force and will. Before the blade even fell, its pressure split the ground anew and made space ripple.

"Behind you!"

Xuan Zi and the others cried out in anger and alarm, but each was tied down by opponents; they could only watch the ruinous blade fall.

At the last instant—

Jeanne's gaze sharpened. Holy gold radiance burst about her like an eternal sacred flame lit in the gloom.

She whirled, fluid and swift. Her holy standard—symbol of faith and ward—rose like an unbreakable shield, slotting in just in time.

Rumble—!!!!!!

The deafening blast swallowed all sound.

Blade and banner collided without flourish, and the impact point flared with retina-searing light. A ring-shaped shock wave of mixed blood-red and gold destructive energy swept out like a collapsing mountain.

The ground was scooped like a soft biscuit, leaving a crater over fifty meters wide.

Cracks spidered hundreds of meters from the pit, everything in their path reduced to powder.

Dust and smoke towered skyward.

But when it cleared a little, Jeanne still stood firm at the crater's center.

She was wrapped in brilliant but gentle sacred light. Her white battle dress was immaculate; her holy standard remained upright, its embroidered sigils flowing with sanctity. She had taken Hoolay's mountain-cleaving blow without so much as a scratch.

Though the land behind her had been torn into a yawning scar by the aftershock, she herself was steady as bedrock, her breath unruffled.

This saintly maiden might not be top-tier in pure offense, but in absolute defense she possessed a near "conceptual" endurance—massively mitigating both physical impact and energy corrosion.

"Oh? Interesting."

A flicker of surprise flashed in Hoolay's scarlet eyes, swiftly replaced by hotter excitement and savagery.

He bared a feral grin, raising the blade again as bloodflames surged even fiercer.

"Woman, you can take a beating. Good… Don't break too quickly."

The bloodflames roared, stronger than before.

Clearly, Jeanne's perfect defense didn't discourage him; it stoked his lust for slaughter and conquest.

Jeanne turned back slowly, her white skirt unmoving amid the gusts.

Her clear violet eyes regarded the beastlike Hoolay with calm. She lifted her banner-lance slightly; at its tip, pure golden light gathered and flowed, exuding inviolable authority.

In raw destructive power, she indeed was not Hoolay's match.

But if he wished to crush or kill her, that would be no easy feat—unyielding guardianship and remarkable endurance in adversity were her forte.

"Mr. Jing Yuan… even you…"

At that moment, Han Ruoruo's voice sounded, heavy with disbelief and deep bitterness.

Her gaze slipped past the chaos to a broken stone pillar not far away.

There stood the stalwart general of the Xianzhou, arms folded, watching calmly. His stance needed no words.

When Bei Bei chose to stand by Tang Ya without hesitation, Han Ruoruo had already felt foreboding. But when Jing Yuan truly ceased his duel with Hoolay and, by near tacit posture, stood opposed to them, every Shrek member's heart sank.

All their prior tactics had been built around this unfathomable Xianzhou general—his strategy, his power, his command presence. He had earned their trust and reliance.

Now that most reliable pillar had become an ambiguous "bystander."

The turn left a bitter taste in Han Ruoruo's mouth.

"Apologies. It seems my stance has changed in an unexpected way."

Jing Yuan's voice remained mild, with a trace of clear regret.

His gaze fell upon Bei Bei holding Tang Ya tight below, and his tone carried genuine helplessness.

"To be honest, this turn of events surprised even me."

He had not foreseen his Master would, to protect a girl, make a choice so resolute as to break with their prior camp.

In his original world, faced with abomination like Hoolay, he would fight to the death to exorcise it utterly.

But this was a Holy Grail War with different rules; faction lines were blurred.

He felt no guilt—Servants ultimately sought the Grail, not the destruction of any one force.

Of course, given the chance, he would still prefer Hoolay leave the stage.

For the moment, however, with Bei Bei joining the Holy Spirit Cult, he and Hoolay were, nominally, on the same side.

But "same side" did not mean he would help the Holy Spirit Cult against Shrek.

At least now, he had no intention of striking former short-lived comrades. That was not his way.

Across the way, Hoolay hefted his brutal blade and glanced up at Jing Yuan on the pillar. Though savagery still burned in his eyes, the undying murderous mania had faded.

He was brutal and bloodthirsty, but no mindless beast; he possessed keen battle-wisdom.

With Master information delivered and the faction shift clarified, he would not continue to fight Jing Yuan to the death.

Thus the two wordlessly chose to cease.

"Aglaea!"

Seeing that Jing Yuan truly would not intervene, Han Ruoruo secretly breathed out and shot Aglaea a look.

Aglaea inclined her head. Her pale hand rose elegantly, closing on empty air—lightning flared.

A long sword wreathed in blazing golden thunder condensed from the void into her grasp.

The blade thrummed, as though countless fine golden threads—laden with rules—wove and flickered within!

At the same time, without a sound, the dressmaker puppet she controlled with golden threads appeared, standing like a loyal shadow at her rear flank.

In the next instant, Aglaea and the dressmaker moved together, left and right. Their killing intent intertwined, locking Hoolay in place!

Screee—!

Ripping thunder tore the sky. Myriad golden bolts burst at once, weaving into a heaven-covering net of lightning that screamed with annihilating edge and dropped over Hoolay.

From the other side, the dressmaker's ten fingers danced; countless seemingly supple yet razor-sharp transparent threads became invisible blades, slicing for every vulnerable angle around Hoolay.

Even Hoolay's careless air vanished before this sudden full-force pincer; gravity settled on his face.

He growled, swinging the giant blade across. A surging blood-red aura erupted like an explosion, crashing head-on into the golden thunder net.

Rumble—!!!

The roar of annihilating energies was deafening.

In the instant Hoolay checked the net, Jeanne moved. Her banner-lance quivered; holy gold flowed like a tide once more—not to strike directly, but to form walls and bindings of light that precisely interfered from the flank, drastically limiting his power and space to dodge.

In a heartbeat the three-way battle was formed: Jeanne on defense and control, ironclad. Aglaea on offense and cunning angles, razor-sharp. It was their first true cooperation, yet their synergy was astonishing. In a blink they dragged the dread Hoolay into a fierce deadlock.

The battlefield's heat spiked again, entering a white-hot blaze.