The God of Scarlet Rot Descends Fontes

The Southern Army soldiers at the edge of the Swamp of Aeonia immediately noticed the water rising rapidly. The putrid, foul air assaulting them was almost enough to make them faint, their minds becoming muddled and unclear.

"Quickly, take a large dose of anti-rot medicine!"

Edgar's sharp reminder snapped them back to their senses, and they took the medicine, barely managing to resist the contamination.

However, the lake water showed every sign of pursuit, clearly not intending to spare any life.

"Fall back!"

Fortunately, they hadn't ventured too deep initially and still had a chance to withdraw from the lake's edge, avoiding being engulfed. Moreover, during this time, the army had cleared the surrounding rot creatures, which offered a slight sense of relief.

But the next moment's development once again warned everyone: a pillar of red light erupted from O'Neil's body, connecting heaven and earth, visible for a hundred li around.

A storm gathered in the sky, thick with the aura of Scarlet Rot.

Redmane Castle sounded the alarm.

"A super-large-scale contamination spread is imminent! Everyone prepare for isolation! Reinforce the Smoldering Wall immediately!"

Although the officers were tense, they still carried out their duties, making deployments in an orderly manner.

The combat festival participants who had come from afar looked at each other. Those who dared to challenge General Starscourge were no cowards; their basic composure was intact. Yet, they couldn't help but discuss such an extraordinary phenomenon animatedly:

"I heard the Despiser of Cinders King's army is stationed at the edge of the swamp. Could a battle have broken out?"

"Along the way, they've caused so much trouble for the Scarlet Rot forces, an thousand years of spreading efforts have been undone. For them to lash out only now is already too late."

"The question is, who among the Kindred of Rot is strong enough to revive a demigod?"

The crowd discussed animatedly.

Everyone, without exception, admired the instigator who had caused such big news. Others only talked about clearing the pollution, making empty promises, but Frieren was serious, actually taking effective measures against the ever-present willpower of the Kindred of Scarlet Rot without seeking permission.

To do so was already beyond the scope of a mere deity. If idealism didn't drive action, then one's deeds would reveal their true nature.

Shimmer!

Suddenly, the sky reflected the image of the Flower of Aeonia, along with its iconic petal energy.

Faced with the prime culprit polluting Caelid, everyone's heart tightened.

"The power of the Goddess of Rot is about to descend." Jerren's judgment silenced everyone present. "Either the Despiser of Cinders King is victorious, or this land will suffer even more grievous contamination."

"So we must also go out and support—"

As soon as these words were spoken, responders flocked. Inspired by the purification battle initiated by the Despiser of Cinders King, their blood was already boiling.

The energy drifting in the sky all converged on the figure in the center of the lake. It was a mass of Scarlet Rot forcibly crammed into O'Neil's body, possessing it.

"My apologies, Frieren."

His muttered words were swallowed by the whistling wind. This body had completely become an agent of an Outer God, every move exuding the most terrifying corrosive, polluting power in the world.

The next moment, he raised his banner high and threw it fiercely into the water. With a hum, ripples spread out in circles.

Wherever the ripples undulated, soldiers rose.

From their armor characteristics, one could identify them as Redmane soldiers and Cleanrot Knights. However, now they only retained their identities as: rot creatures.

The corpses from the deaths in the Aeonian War had paved the polluted breeding ground at the bottom of the lake. Now, they climbed out as terrifying warriors returned from hell, gathering around O'Neil's banner, marching with steady steps in unison towards the Southern Army.

No sign of life could be seen; it was a group of moving puppets.

Beneath their armor, there wasn't even a trace of flesh, only grotesque blood-flesh formed after rot parasitism, mimicking their appearance in life.

This scene made one's scalp tingle. Even the battle-hardened Edgar felt a chill down his spine.

"Prepare to engage!"

Although the enemy consisted of remnants, the Southern Army was no third-rate rabble that would collapse at first contact. They would fight the once-majestic Redmane soldiers and Cleanrot Knights without hesitation.

The first to engage the enemy were the airborne wyverns and Stormhawks, unleashing a round of firepower coverage on the foremost rot creatures.

Some of them turned to ash.

However, a large number of rot creatures eventually rushed forward, met by the Southern Army's shield wall. Their rust-stained weapons couldn't make a dent. Spears, repeatedly thrust through the gaps, pierced flesh, easily destroying torsos.

To deal with these walking dead, they wouldn't just hit and run, but churn their innards, thoroughly destroying their bodily structures.

Plop!

On the battlefield, scenes of soldiers with overly mangled bodies becoming immobile appeared one after another. Yet, consumed by rot, they still dragged their ruined forms, crawling—a truly horrifying sight.

A Magma Wyrm spewed a torrent of lava to finally, barely, wipe them out.

Edgar ordered, "Everyone, hold the line! Focus on defense! Hold out for now!"

"General, there are more enemies!"

Following the voice, they saw a massive army of rot creatures, a black mass flooding the land, forming a pincer around the Swamp of Aeonia. Probably all the monsters that could be mobilized in the vicinity had come.

Their numbers totaled in the tens of thousands. Adding the elite soldiers from the lake water, their overall scale was enough to contend with the Southern Army.

As if misfortunes never come singly, the oppressive, crushing moves weren't over yet.

Suddenly, O'Neil pulled out his banner, waving it against the scarlet wind. Wherever it passed, all rot creatures emitted an intense aura, their attack and defense simultaneously strengthening, breaking through the Southern Army's front line in one fell swoop, like splitting bamboo.

They had never expected the old general's banner to have such an outstanding effect. It was too late; they could only use the rear ranks to barely stabilize the line. Disastrous.

Originally, Edgar had planned to dispatch troops to intercept the incoming horde of rot creatures. Now, attacked from both front and rear, if they were surrounded, wouldn't they be finished in minutes?

He looked at the other commander, O'Neil, who revealed a god's disdain.

Mere rabble wasn't worth his attention.

Edgar, suppressing his anger, still chose to command with stability, even personally leading a team to prepare for engagement, gathering the elite Magma Wyrms, Dragon Communionists, and Grafted Scions.

"Our mission is to stop the advance of the enemies from the lake at all costs! They carry the most severe rot! Are you ready?"

"Victory is certain!" The resounding words echoed in all directions.

Next, the two armies entered the most brutal phase of close-quarters combat. Amidst flashing blades and sword shadows, time seemed to slip away...

Bang!

Suddenly, a signal flare rose in the southern sky, shining brilliantly—it signified the arrival of reinforcements.

The ground rumbled and lamented. Even O'Neil turned his head to look. It was a small contingent rushing at breakneck speed from the direction of Redmane Castle. The main army definitely wouldn't make it in time; they would have to wait. So, the fastest horses carried the very top elite to arrive.

Among them were Blaidd the Half-Wolf, Iron Fist Alexander, Great Horned Knight Tragoth, and others, as well as the strongest vanguard of the Redmane Army.

We are the ones performing the pincer attack.

Simultaneously, a purple-white gravity sphere streaked across the sky. Stepping on it, the silver-haired girl flew onto the battlefield, landing gracefully in the center of the lake.

"Frieren, you certainly made me wait." An expectant voice came from the scarlet cloud.

Lively enough.

Frieren, rushing to the battlefield in a great hurry, took one glance and grasped most of the situation:

Overall, it was very dangerous. The rot creatures possessing Cleanrot Knights and Redmane soldiers were elite. Coupled with the vast numbers of Kindred of Rot, they were enough to cause trouble for the 30,000 elite main force. Not to mention the special Scarlet Rot attribute, which excelled at targeting large numbers.

The only good news was the support from Redmane Castle.

Some experts would have no problem tying down a portion of the rot creatures, but reinforcements from the main force led by Castellan Jerren would still be needed later.

"Why bother with such mundane things?" The scarlet aura floating above O'Neil let out a laugh. "I can see that you possess the high station of a powerful deity."

"So what?"

"Favored by the power of more than one god, eh? Since you're so accommodating, can you include me as well?"

"You're merely a mediocre and disgusting source of pollution."

"Huh?"

As soon as Frieren said this, all fell silent. The boiling power of Scarlet Rot seemed to freeze. Even she, normally lacking in emotion, felt a faint sense of anger. How outrageous! Anger?

The people around were both afraid and impressed. As expected of Her Majesty, to actually issue such a provocation to an Outer God.

But what did it mean for the Goddess of Rot to acknowledge her high station? She herself had even admitted it. How much turbulence was hidden within?

Hearing this, Melina looked worriedly at the silver-haired girl; what she carried was far heavier than it appeared on the surface.

When words don't align, half a sentence is too much.

The next moment, the old general O'Neil roared and undid his armor, proactively embracing the large mass of Scarlet Rot energy. His entire figure swelled by a size, becoming even more ferocious. The light in his eyes was gone, leaving only the madness unique to rot creatures and hatred for ordinary life.

His aura was more than ten times stronger than his previous, nearly depleted state, agitating the lake water. Some rot creatures couldn't help but prostrate themselves on the ground, trembling incessantly.

Frieren solemnly drew Lusat's Glintstone Staff and the Moonveil katana.

All out.

"I will have you embrace Scarlet Rot."

The next moment, O'Neil pulled out his banner, its tip like a spear thrusting out, wrapped in a dense storm of rot.

Comet Azur met it head-on. Only by using an extreme, continuous output of energy could safety be ensured. Facts proved it correct; the enemy's erosion failed.

The Goddess of Rot controlling him from behind wouldn't be disappointed by such a small matter; she continued her pursuit.

Splash!

The lake water danced with O'Neil's movements, forming a vortex with him at the center. The banner was his command; water and sky became one color.

He roared, sending forth waves like undulating mountain ranges, the lake water surging towards them.

Frieren, blocking the path to the Southern Army, could not retreat. She met the challenge head-on, taking a step and stirring up a storm of frost.

First, a weapon skill to freeze the surrounding Scarlet Rot—it was the Moonlight Sword.

The frost-imbued sword energy, released at maximum range, reached a hundred meters. Rather than an attack, it was more like a snowstorm, forcibly freezing the first wave.

It was far from over—

O'Neil, standing atop the wave, suddenly plummeted, bringing his full body weight down with his banner-spear. As the black shadow enveloped Frieren, Moonveil's sword energy bloomed simultaneously! This was the moment she had waited for! The sharp blade slashed across the old general's chest.

However, he revealed a wicked smile. There was no blood from the wound, only an overwhelming wave of Scarlet Rot.

The speed of bodily transformation was actually this fast!

She had considered the possibility but hadn't expected the Goddess of Rot to disregard the vessel's integrity. She quickly rolled to dodge the spear, which grazed past her.

Even for a demigod to react so quickly to change was rare. Her battle-hardened fundamental skills allowed Frieren to dodge the blow; O'Neil, in contrast, couldn't even touch the hem of her clothes.

However, he wasn't discouraged, instead smiling, "This isn't your style."

Just as the two were engaged in close combat, the lake water suddenly surged. Although the silver-haired girl quickly dodged, she couldn't avoid being splashed by a few drops. However, the water, imbued with Scarlet Rot, flowed off her shimmering magical barrier and disappeared. The missed attack revealed a fact:

"Scarlet Rot is your weakness. You're not even willing to use your proficient parries and counters? Are you afraid of contact?"

"My power will break the energy balance within your body."

Frieren's brow furrowed slightly.

She had to admit the Goddess of Rot was right. The intensity of erosion from the source of pollution was not on the level of those previous small fries; it was enough to cause her trouble. If something bizarre erupted, the consequences would be severe.

The fusion of various powers brought enhanced combat strength, but also great danger.

And this wasn't something she could choose. To achieve certain perfect endings, she always had to bring out things like the First Flame and ancient gods; it was unavoidable.

"You're too talkative, God of Rot."

As soon as her words fell, Frieren tightened her grip on Moonveil, sword light encircling its edge, brimming with killing intent.

In O'Neil's eyes, a Nightmaiden's Mist first obscured his vision. At the last moment, the silver-haired girl drew back her waist, accumulating power, sheathing her blade then suddenly lunging forward.

Swoosh!

Sword light poured out, sweeping in all directions, enveloping the Goddess of Rot's location.

Cerulean threads parted the red miasma, and a painful wail was actually heard. This sword strike contained soul magic damage. Both the possessing deity and its host suffered heavy trauma, a heart-wrenching pain.

My apologies, O'Neil.

Frieren, with resolve, successively unleashed Soul Streams, the long-unseen magic of the Dark Souls world, driven at full power.

The detestable Outer God was equally nimble. Hit once, it reacted and barely dodged, also ending up in a sorry, rolling state.

"The Despiser of Cinders makes me so utterly humiliated, time and time again—"

However, the silver-haired girl didn't engage in conversation at all. One failed strike, and she pursued again, attacking relentlessly.

The two exchanged spells like streaks of light. The vast lake water could be severed, constantly freezing, evaporating, or even being absorbed as nourishment by O'Neil. The entire massive Swamp of Aeonia actively receded, a thousand years of accumulated power converging into one being.

One could imagine how terrifying the power was. Both Frieren and the goddess used their full strength. For a time, the earth shook and mountains trembled, winds stirred, and gales overturned tens of thousands of acres of crimson earth.

"Roar!"

Stimulated by this, the rot creatures bared their fangs and claws, attacking every living thing the morning sun could reach.

The Southern Army struggled to hold back the offensive.

Edgar ordered, "Retreat towards Redmane Castle and rendezvous with reinforcements! Be extremely careful of the aftershocks of Her Majesty's magic!"

This warning was entirely correct. Some reinforcement soldiers had already been sent flying by the shockwaves. After all, they hadn't yet adapted to Frieren's style, where every move was filled with large-scale destructive power.

The Redmane Army also tacitly coordinated with the Southern Army's movements.

"Is a typical demigod battle this intense?" Freyja, leading her troops, muttered. "It feels like there are only two options: go all out or dodge. No need to conserve stamina?"

"Because the Despiser of Cinders King's mana is bottomless," Blaidd lamented sincerely.

"You're old acquaintances?"

"Yes. So don't worry, unless that evil Outer God has some extra tricks..."

La la la! (Sound of O'Neil's banner flourish)

As O'Neil's military banner waved with a roar, in an instant, more corrupted warriors rose from the swamp.

Each of them was an ultimate source of pollution, arrayed around a giant Flower of Aeonia that slowly rose from the water, accompanied by countless fluttering butterflies, also carrying a deadly threat; a single speck of powder could contaminate an entire area.

The corrosive traces left by Malenia's bloom back then were blooming once more.

Some Redmane vanguards were so frightened they reined in their horses, thinking this was the end for everyone.

The Scarlet Rot accumulated to the point of the Flower of Aeonia blooming was enough to bury a nation, and this time, it was specifically released by an Outer God; its power was terrifying, the consequences unpredictable.

Even Frieren's brow furrowed tightly.

The scarlet cloud in the sky laughed loudly, "Bloom once more!"

It could not be allowed.

She clenched a fireball in her hand, which suddenly swelled like a sun. The magic of the Fell God's Flame stirred a trace of the First Flame within her. Unlike its original violent attribute, this was a power of utmost purity and loftiness, an aura capable of incinerating everything.

However, the essence of the magic was to mobilize the First Flame. The power of an Astrologer could not control it, and it immediately began to burn.

"Don't do this! Stop quickly!" Melina admonished. "We can still think of other ways! Don't use yourself as the price!"

"Mm, Flame Maiden."

The words from the Goddess of Rot stunned her. Then, she gritted her teeth. Indeed, with the power of a deity, it was impossible not to see her own existence.

"Your words are ironic. And you haven't noticed my rot transformation?"

"What?"

"Now, my soul and spirit body can both erode."

As soon as her words fell, Melina was shocked to find Frieren actually carrying a hint of scarlet aura. This was bad! If she herself was eroded, could she still burn the Erdtree normally?

Just as she worried, a fair hand grasped hers, a warm, soul-soothing fire transmitted through it.

Frieren had cleared the Scarlet Rot.

"Next, I might have to take a bit more risk. You don't need to worry."

A risky move acknowledged even by the ever-bold and fearless Tarnished—how dangerous must it be! But she could only choose to believe. Throughout their journey, they had trusted each other's abilities. Now was the time to fight with all their might.

Melina nodded and proactively retreated. The road was long and distant; she could only watch, hoping Frieren's plan for a body of tears was truly feasible.

Explosion of fire!

The silver-haired girl's body was once again struck by a fierce flame, and coupled with a distorted wall of light, it formed a dual barrier against the rot.

O'Neil still nonchalantly commanded his legions to emerge continuously. For the Outer God, victory itself wasn't the most important thing, but rather to effectively spread its power. The conflict with the shardbearer was secondary.

Although the most important thing was to seize a vessel, it could take its time; there was no rush.

It was very willing to wait, but its opponent could not afford to.

At this moment, Scarlet Rot had already spread beyond the range of the Swamp of Aeonia. The slurry at its center exuded dense contamination, which, diluted into the air, spread on a large scale, unstoppable.

The rot creatures, capitalizing on the momentum, actually pushed back the army.

Even the combined forces of the Southern Army and the Redmane Army were wary of the contamination, forced to fight while retreating.

By now, they were even afraid of another Scarlet Rot bloom. If that happened, everyone would perish here, a certain death.

Woosh!

A towering flame erupted from the ground. Frieren, in a state of self-immolation, released equally searing mana. There was no fixed pattern to this magic; it was purely the will to turn everything to ash.

Even the power of the Outer God felt a slight palpitation. However, the silver-haired girl before it silently picked up a Ringed Knight Straight Sword.

Although not the strongest weapon, it would undoubtedly draw upon the power of fire.

The next moment, the straight sword slashed out an arc of flame. The sword energy traversed hundreds of meters, reaching straight for the stamen of the flower. Caught off guard, O'Neil's cloak was also ignited, the rot receding.

Damn it!

Not only that, the Fell God's Flame released by her staff never ceased, continuously scorching the surrounding lake water.

Now, the only method the Goddess of Rot could think of was to erode Frieren herself. However, how could she break through the dual protection of the distorted wall of light and flame? There was no choice but to release contamination on the largest scale possible, and select a suitable puppet…

"As long as a situation arises where you are forced to attack with all your might, a defensive opening will surely appear, and I will seize that gap."

"So fond of revealing your plans?"

"I want you to know that you wish to escape the deity's control."

No sooner said than done, without spreading contamination. But suddenly, Frieren used Hound's Step to shorten the distance. One sword strike, stirring flames, simultaneously hit O'Neil and the scarlet cloud. Its own projected body was actually disappearing!

What a flame! What a burning Lord of Cinder! Had she already found a countermeasure?

The disrupted Outer God had no choice but to opt for a cautious battle. Only in true mid-range combat did it feel the opponent's transcendent skill, an overwhelming suppression. Opportunities were too few.

Boom!

The battle between the two was a duel of the highest caliber, a back-and-forth, with frequent explosions.

Taking this opportunity, the army finally regained its footing.

Edgar and Freyja, having rendezvoused, exchanged a look and nodded. Without further words, they lined up together to engage the corrupted soldiers.

They had to achieve results while the Goddess of Rot was suppressed by Frieren and couldn't control her legions. They couldn't allow the contamination to leak out. On this rapidly changing battlefield, they had to seize the opportunity.

"Fire coverage!"

At the command, a rain of arrows ascended, tracing parabolas as they fell with a great rustle. They were burning, like fireflies plunging into a striking flame.

In an instant, the surroundings burst into flames. A large swathe of corrupted soldiers wailed like ghosts and howled like wolves.

They were merely the first wave; there were more to come:

Finally, all the corpses from the Aeonian War in the Lake of Rot emerged. All were elites from that era, yet they had become pawns of the Outer God. When they all came ashore, the lake water actually receded, a shocking sight. It was truly a lake filled with flesh and blood!

However, there was a counter plan. Wyverns and Magma Wyrms together released flames, creating an open area for coordination. A wave of lava poured down on the enemy, pushing them back.

"Finally stabilized," Alexander said, his heart still pounding. "I really don't want to come face to face with rot."

He looked at Blaidd beside him, who also nodded sincerely.

Suddenly, however, he paused slightly, as if reminded of something, then took out a blue doll.

"Your Highness, what happened?"

"Blaidd, quickly, look northeast! That spirit maiden is in danger!"

Hearing this, he quickly looked over. He couldn't sense a soul's presence, but he could clearly see a pool of blood appearing in the air.

An Omen Child in gorgeous robes appeared, raised a sacred spear, and thrust fiercely.

Melina, her mind focused on Frieren's battle, felt a gust of wind behind her. Relying on instinct, she rolled. A blood-red blade grazed her shoulder, leaving a wound.

Damn it.

Although she dodged the fatal blow, the next moment, a demigod's oppressive aura enveloped and locked onto her. This was a new, formidable enemy.

_____

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