DD Black White [321-322] (Patreon)

Chapter 321: Cú Chulainn Defeated

Cú Chulainn's mouth twitched uncontrollably. He shot a helpless glance at the gaping, blood-soaked wound in Xiao Wu's chest—still ghastly to behold—felt the ever-rising surge of divine power, and could only let out a bitter laugh.

Why was he always this unlucky—running into absurd opponents whose traits were utterly antithetical to his Noble Phantasm?!

Before he could react—

Boom!!!!

A godly force far surpassing anything before—so violent it could tear sky and earth—erupted from Xiao Wu's seemingly slender body like a seafloor volcano.

Her left hand, gripping the spear's shaft, burst with dazzling sea-blue divine light, forcibly pinning the crimson magic spear where it impaled her. Using it as a fulcrum, she closed the distance in a single blur.

Her right fist clenched. Vast divine power gathered upon it, as if dragging an entire furious ocean along, and in the simplest, most brutal, and utterly unavoidable manner, she hammered it into the dead center of Cú Chulainn's chest.

"Guh—!!!!"

Cú Chulainn felt an irresistible force slam into him, as if struck head-on by a falling star.

His sturdy Servant's chest caved in at a speed visible to the naked eye, the crackling of shattering bones popping like strings of firecrackers.

Blood, mixed with pulped organ fragments, geysered from his mouth.

He flew backward like a stone hurled with all one's might, like a kite with its string cut, completely out of control.

Rumble—rumble—rumble—!!!
His body smashed through several already-ruined gigantic buildings in succession, the terrible kinetic force not diminishing in the slightest, then plowed a thousand-meter-long, bottomless trench into the ground.

Everything along the way—brick, steel, even the wreckage of soul tools—was ground to ultrafine dust by the terrifying power engulfing him.

At last, with a deafening crash that shook the earth, he slammed into an enormous, preternaturally solid foundation wall and finally came to a stop.

Dust billowed skyward, shrouding the entire area.

Cú Chulainn was wedged deep into the cracked wall, unable to move. Every breath came with heart-rending pain and a mouthful of blood foam—he was clearly in a state of grievous, critical injury.

One thing left unsaid: aside from possessing heaven-defying luck that could twist fate, there's another way to counter causality reversal—having a life force so formidable and beyond common sense that even being pierced through the heart wouldn't kill you.

Xiao Wu gazed coldly toward the cloud of dust where Cú Chulainn had fallen. She slowly released her left hand from the spear, then clenched her right and yanked—the crimson magic spear was wrenched free from her chest.

The instant the tip left her body, no additional blood spilled out. Instead, a vast, gentle sea-blue divine power washed over the gruesome through-and-through wound.

A moment later, a miracle occurred—the injury that could have instantly killed any mortal, even a Titled Douluo, began writhing and knitting back together at a speed visible to the eye.

The bleeding stopped; exposed tissue and bone were swiftly reconstructed by divine power. In just a few breaths, only a faint pink scar remained—and even that was soon erased entirely by the surging divine flow. Her skin became smooth and flawless, as though never touched by harm.

As a true deity with a divine core, her form of life had long since shed the mortal and even ordinary transcendent shackle that "the heart is a fatal weakness."

The natural laws of birth and death were almost meaningless to her. A pierced heart might cause intense pain and a brief energy disruption, but it was by no means a lethal blow that could end her life.

So long as her divine core remained intact and her divine power not utterly exhausted, she could rely on that power to rapidly and almost endlessly repair her godly body—an undying form, in a certain sense.

Which is to say, Cú Chulainn had truly picked the wrong opponent this time.

His famed Noble Phantasm that reversed causality—a nightmare to countless heroes—might be a sure-kill trump against mortals and ordinary Servants.

But when facing a true deity like Xiao Wu, whose level of life utterly transcended the mundane and whose mode of existence was fundamentally different, its core kill mechanism became completely ineffective.

After all, if the "effect" of a pierced heart, forcibly fixed as the "result," could not actually produce death, then so-called causality reversal amounted to nothing more than inflicting a wound that cost the foe a bit of divine power to fix—meaningless.

Xiao Wu casually flicked the still-ominous crimson spear in her hand. The divine blood on its shaft was shaken free and evaporated by flowing sea-blue power.

Vast divine radiance ebbed and flowed around her like breath, rapidly repairing every minor injury and expenditure from the prior battle.

Once more, she fixed her icy gaze on the ruined trench where Cú Chulainn had fallen, her eyes devoid of all emotion.

Even without her memories, she retained the deity's inviolable, absolute pride by instinct.

To be wounded by a mere Servant—and in such a bizarre way—was, to her, a grave desecration. Even if she recovered immediately, she would not let him off.

Far away, having rematerialized his spear, Cú Chulainn managed to prop himself up with a struggle, coughing violently. He suddenly felt that frigid gaze lock onto him again—cold as ten thousand years of ice—and he shivered.

Clutching his entirely collapsed chest, agony drilling through him, coughing up mouthfuls of blood, he showed a bitter smile.

"This time… I've really kicked an iron wall. Big trouble…"

He had thought his Noble Phantasm's nature guaranteed victory, but never imagined his opponent simply didn't care about a pierced heart—a fatal wound for almost any being.

It seemed the battle he thought was ending had not only refused to conclude but was heading into a phase even more troublesome and perilous for him.

"Die!"

Xiao Wu snorted coldly, and the sea-blue divine power around her surged like a boiling ocean.

She faintly sensed several extremely powerful energy waves—so strong they even made her feel a twinge of dread—emanating from the direction of Huo Yuhao. Anxiety pricked her heart. She wanted to finish this opponent at once and go check.

At the same time, she felt vexed by the sudden lapse of focus she'd suffered moments ago—as if something extremely important and extremely bad was happening or about to happen. The dangling, uncontrollable urgency kindled a nameless anger in her heart—and the stubborn Lancer before her became the perfect outlet.

"Tch, am I about to be forcibly retired?"

Cú Chulainn clicked his tongue, blood flecking his lips, unwillingness and regret flashing in his eyes.

He hadn't yet had his fill of fighting the strong of this strange world; hadn't savored the fresh bloodrush and ultimate thrill of cross-world combat. He didn't want to retire so stifled and wretched.

If not for Battle Continuation barely propping up his final breath and keeping his core from immediately dissipating, that god-powered punch would likely have robbed him of all ability to act—maybe even kicked him straight out.

He knew it well—he was at his limit.

His body's damage and his remaining strength were insufficient to sustain a high-intensity fight with Xiao Wu.

He stood no chance of stopping her next, wrath-fueled assault.

If his true body were here, he might, with the near-omnipotent Primordial Runes he commanded, find a new path—maybe even reverse the battle.

But what had descended here was merely a memory-form summoned by the Holy Grail War, with power and abilities premised on the Lancer template. Even his rune sorcery's potency and versatility were greatly diminished.

Not to mention he was in a different world with different rules. How much efficacy runes—rooted in another world's system—could retain here was unknown.

It's like a tiger, king of the mountains, suddenly plunged into the boundless sea. Never mind defeating the ocean's lords—surviving the drowning depths would be fortune enough.

And a whale, sovereign of the ocean, once beached, becomes a salted fish at others' mercy. A drastic change of environment can cripple any powerhouse, even strip them of what they rely on most.

Different universes have different foundational rules and power systems.

Cú Chulainn was feeling this "climate mismatch" keenly.

Even slight differences in baseline physical constants—gravitational constant, speed of light, energy conversion efficiency—could reduce a superweapon that annihilates galaxies in one universe to untriggerable, structurally unstable scrap in another.

This was why Herta, after being summoned by Lu Jingming, did not rush to reproduce her universe-level strategic constructs that had been miracles in her original universe.

Base materials were only part of it; with Herta's capability, substitutes or synthesis could be found. The crux was the subtle differences in fundamental physical rules between the two universes.

The transcendent knowledge and blueprints she brought had to be adapted and rebuilt to "localize" before they could stabilize and achieve their intended effect here.

Thus, most of the time since arriving, Herta had been immersed in analyzing and modeling the Douluo universe's underlying rules.

Sometimes, on a whim, she would casually study local soul tool tech—not to imitate it, but to more quickly and intuitively grasp this world's unique physics and energy logic.

Chapter 322: Space Gate
On the battlefield, Xiao Wu's form became a pale-blue afterimage of divine light, crossing a thousand meters in an instant, bearing icy divinity and killing intent as she streaked toward the gravely wounded, dying Cú Chulainn.

On the other side, though his breath was faint, chest collapsed, and blood spilling from his lips, Cú Chulainn's fingers remained firm on his spear.

The crimson tip glimmered with the desperate light of a dying beast.

Even if death was certain, the Hound of Culann would die in a fierce, all-out battle—never with his hands bound and neck bared.

"Come—fight to the end!!"

A feral, crazed grin split Cú Chulainn's blood-smeared face, adding a savage edge. His eyes, still burning with unyielding will to fight, locked on the onrushing Xiao Wu.

"Strike Air!"

At that razor's edge of life and death, a cool, steely woman's voice cleaved the battlefield.

An invisible tornado, ferocious enough to rend heaven and earth, sprang from nothing and swept precisely into Xiao Wu mid-charge.

This tempest was no act of nature but wind power compressed and controlled to the extreme—faster than thought—ensnaring Xiao Wu before she could react.

Rumble—!
Crushing wind pressure seized her form and hurled her like a catapulted boulder into the ruins of a half-collapsed megastructure.

Stout steel beams and heavy concrete were shredded to powder in the annihilating vortex, screaming with teeth-grinding shrieks.

As dust billowed, a petite figure strode from the storm's heart, silver-blue knight's armor gleaming, blue cape snapping in the turbulent air.

In her hand was a holy sword shrouded by roaring wind—only a hint of gold showing—then she came to Cú Chulainn's side.

Her gaze swept over the blood-drenched Lancer, breath faint yet spine unbowed. Her voice was calm, without ripple.

"Who would have thought—the famed Child of Light—reduced to such a sorry state."

"Saber… it's you…"

Seeing Artoria Pendragon, Cú Chulainn froze, then showed clear displeasure and chagrin.

"Tch. Saved by you in the end… and you had to see me like this. Damn… how galling."

Anyone would feel vexed to be seen by an acquaintance so beaten and near death.

For one as proud as he, a hound who prized a warrior's honor as life itself, being rescued could taste even worse than defeat.

Artoria did not answer his lament. She slightly lifted the golden-bright holy sword, released the Barrier of the Wind King, and leveled the radiant tip toward the ruins where Xiao Wu had been hurled.

Pure golden light lit her resolute features and emerald eyes. Since she had chosen to intervene, this battle would naturally be taken up by the King of Knights.

Boom—!
From the distant rubble, sea-blue divinity exploded, shredding and scattering the lingering invisible winds.

Xiao Wu emerged. Her hair was tousled from the impact, hem dusted, but her beautiful eyes were colder than before—ice that hadn't thawed in millennia.

She stared frostily at the sudden Artoria, feeling the other's sovereign aura and sacred power, different yet no less vast. Divine might within her surged and boiled anew.

This battle was far from over.

"Will Saber… really be okay facing such an enemy alone?"

Nan Qiuqiu trailed close behind her mother, Nan Shuishui, but couldn't stop glancing back at Artoria's resolute figure vanishing into smoke and dust, her young face etched with worry.

Though she hadn't spent long with the famously big-eating king, she truly respected—even idolized—this stern, steadfast monarch.

In the days training under Artoria, watching her fight and choose; and after all the shocks and sacrifices of the Mingdu cataclysm, Nan Qiuqiu felt she'd learned far beyond her years.

From an impulsive, rash girl reliant on her mother, she was beginning to understand responsibility, duty, and steady resilience—like a rebirth.

"Don't worry, Qiuqiu."

Sensing her daughter's concern, Nan Shuishui stopped, gently stroked her soft pink hair, and spoke warmly, voice quietly reassuring.

"She is strong—far stronger than we imagine. That fight is beyond Titled Douluo—it carries powers and convictions we can't fully grasp."

She paused, gazing toward the source of the terrifying energies, her tone deepening.

"And this is her battle—her chosen path and pride. What you must do now isn't fret over a fight you can't join, but protect yourself—do not become a burden that distracts her in combat."

Nan Shuishui knew Artoria's pride and resolve. She would not let her daughter rush into a clash far beyond the Earth Dragon Sect's scope.

It was too dangerous. With their current strength, even watching that level of battle was taxing—intervening was out of the question.

Even the stray shockwaves could shred any Soul Master below Soul Douluo.

For Nan Qiuqiu, the greatest help was to survive, stick with the sect, and leave Artoria free of worry.

By now, under Nan Shuishui's lead, Earth Dragon Sect's disciples and elders had linked up with the Heaven Dragon Sect's remnants—battered but with their main force intact.

After brief talks, the two sects chose to move together—trusted allies whose combined strength meant greater safety.

Before Artoria left to join the war for the Grail, she, with Nan Shuishui and her daughter, had escorted a group of civilians through the chaos, finally finding a temporary haven protected by Haiyuan City.

Because this refuge lay off the main fronts ravaged by the antimatter legion, few voidrangers had approached it. The relative safety had drawn crowds of displaced survivors seeking shelter, forming a cramped but increasingly orderly camp.

Thus, assured that Haiyuan City forces kept order and the place was safe for now, Artoria could focus on the Servants' war.

Zhang Lexuan, coordinating, did not turn away the survivors—sect members, academy elites, and common folk alike. She displayed excellent organization, directing Haiyuan personnel and volunteer Soul Masters to keep order, distribute scarce supplies, and treat the wounded.

Noisy, but not chaotic.

At the camp's center, a near-miracle was unfolding.

Herta employed a portion of the Key of Infinity authority to open a colossal space gate, thirty meters high.

A soft, steady, pale-blue light rippled like a tranquil lake, swallowing group after group of arrivals and sending them to Haiyuan City, thousands of miles away—utterly safe.

To the natives of the Douluo Continent, it was godlike.

Among those transported were elite disciples from top sects and famed academies of the empires.

Anyone qualified to compete in this tournament was a peerless talent—the future of their powers.

By saving them in the near-apocalyptic calamity wrought by the antimatter legion, Haiyuan City had bestowed a monumental favor—one tied to the very future of these forces.

For Haiyuan City, it was a sure-win strategic investment.

These young geniuses might be limited in current combat power, but the networks and resources they'd command in time far outweighed present costs.

Influence works best when woven wide and dense.

Haiyuan City never sought to dominate the world by force and make enemies of all, but to stand through conciliation, mutual benefit, and interlinked interests.

With today's lifesaving debt laid down, future plans—continental unification, resource integration—would face fewer headwinds from native powers, making progress smoother and saving blood and trouble unseen.

Nan Qiuqiu took one last, long look at the battlefield wreathed in smoke and energy storms. Towering flame and tides of terrifying power spoke of a clash both savage and awe-inspiring.

She bit her lip until she tasted iron. A blazing desire to grow stronger surged within her like fire.

If only she had enough strength—she wouldn't have to watch Artoria rush into peril alone, nor be a protected, transferred burden.

Seeing that fierce resolve blaze in her daughter's eyes, Nan Shuishui smiled with deep pride.

To recognize and accept one's weakness is no flaw. That clarity breeds the firmest, greatest drive to become strong.

Her daughter's growth exceeded expectations—faster and finer than she had imagined.