King's Awakening

Chapter 752: Chapter 752: Raksha and Matias
 

The battle between the True Dragon and the giant black tiger finally came to an end.

The body of the black tiger gradually began to fade, and the figure of the old beggar reappeared in sight.

The figure of the True Dragon also slowly transformed back into White Mitchell’s form.

This battle was a contest of the Divine Soul Power of both sides, and evidently, the old beggar was defeated by White Mitchell.

At this moment, the old beggar incredulously stared at White Mitchell, looking at him like a monster, and couldn’t help but exclaim, “This… how is this possible? I’ve practiced the art of the Divine Soul for years, but in the end, I’m not even a match for you—a mere boy?”

White Mitchell smiled, but without much joy.

He knew that his battle with the old beggar could only be regarded as a victory through hardship.

Keep in mind, the current old beggar is just a fragment of a soul. If the old beggar in his prime stood before him, he would likely have no power to fight back.

Moreover, this fragment of the old beggar’s soul had been trapped in this eerie place for who knows how many years.

It could only sustain itself by randomly seizing the life essence of unfortunate passersby.

White Mitchell could sense that this fragment of the old beggar’s soul didn’t even possess a tenth of the strength it once had.

One could imagine the scene if the old beggar, in his prime, stood before him.

He would probably not even have the chance to struggle.

Yourself dealing with a fragment of a soul and yet, it takes Herculean effort just to claim a dubious victory.

Not to mention dealing with the old beggar at his prime.

Fortunately, the old beggar in his prime had likely already perished.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left behind such a fragment of soul here, waiting to seize his own body.

However, although White Mitchell won, he didn’t let his guard down.

Because, the old beggar was still there before him. The crisis had not yet been fully resolved.

Moreover, White Mitchell had other plans in mind.

Based on the warning of the Origin Power, he realized how strong the Power of the Divine Soul was.

Moreover, the inheritance from the Origin Power also contained a considerable amount of content about refining the Divine Soul.

However, he had not found an opportunity to cultivate the Divine Soul before this, and thus didn’t practice it.

Keep in mind, refining the Divine Soul is not something that can be accomplished overnight.

It can be said, without exaggeration, that refining the Divine Soul is even more difficult than becoming an immortal.

However, once the cultivation of the Divine Soul has reaped some success, the rewards can be enormous.

Right now, many people are stuck at a certain realm for decades or even hundreds of years.

Apart from their own talent, an important reason for this is that their Divine Soul strength is insufficient.

After all, the difficulty of honing the Divine Soul is incredibly high, and thus the methods for cultivating the Divine Soul that were passed down from ancient times have long been lost.

At present, apart from a few individual forces that still have methods to cultivate the Divine Soul, the great majority of forces don’t possess this knowledge.

Once the Divine Soul is cultivated properly, it can double the effect of progressing in the path to immortality.

At this point, the fragment of the old beggar’s soul, under his full strength, can barely be suppressed.

If he used this fragment of soul to forge his own Divine Soul, to make his Divine Soul stronger, this would put another card up his sleeve.

Moreover, this card could potentially turn the tides in his favor.

With these thoughts, White Mitchell already had an eager feeling.

Meanwhile, the old beggar was clearly not willing to let White Mitchell slip away so easily.

He had waited for tens of thousands of years to find a perfect vessel like White Mitchell, he could not afford to let him escape.

“Young man, don’t celebrate too soon, my tricks are far from over!” The old beggar shouted, and his fragment of soul became even more ethereal as a towering figure appeared in front of White Mitchell.

This was the Six-Armed Raksha!

The Six-Armed Raksha, also known as the Six-Armed Devil, is the evil existence in many legends and myths. Legend has it that the Six-Armed Raksha was originally a human, but under some Evil Skill, it was transformed into a demon. It once practiced various unparalleled evil methods in order to achieve immortality, which resulted in horrifying transformations to its body.

The face of the Six-Armed Raksha was hideous. It had a pair of ferocious eyes, radiating a red glow that seemed to exude a dreadful, zombie-like aura. Above these eyes grew a pair of huge horns, twisted like a devil’s. Its sharp fangs were as sharp as knives, seemingly ready to tear apart anything it encountered.

The six robust arms of the Six-Armed Raksha covered with hardened scales. These scales shimmered with a black-silver glow, appearing as sharp as blades. Each arm held a different weapon.

The weapons held in the Six-Armed Raksha’s arms were a knife, a spear, a Wolf Fang Club, an axe, a sword, and a long spear.

In one hand, the Raksha held a blade. The blade was sharp, emitting a chill. The hilt was made of black mystery iron, with intricate patterns interlocking on its surface. The mature palm gripped the handle, ready to cut through any obstacles standing in its way at any time.

In the other hand, the Raksha held a spear. The spear was made of refined steel—unyielding and solid. The spearhead was narrow and sharp, flashing with a frosty light. The Raksha held the spear, and he seemed like a dragon, endowed with the power of short-range attack and distant assault. The decorations on the spear were extraordinarily exquisite, adorned with dragon patterns, making the entire spear appear noble and terrifying.

On the third arm, the Rakshasa held a Wolf Fang Club. The club was made from dark and sturdy ironwood, etched with deep grain patterns that ascended along its length. The ferocious and sharp contours at both ends of the club, reminiscent of a behemoth’s fangs, were incredibly oppressive. The Rakshasa wielded the Wolf Fang Club skillfully, using its weight and the sturdiness of the club body to easily pulverize any obstacle in front.

On the fourth arm, the Rakshasa tightly gripped a gigantic axe. The axe was forged from solid steel, characterized by a broad and heavy head that could easily sever most objects. The straight handle of the axe had recently been embellished with resplendent gold decorations that gleamed in the sun. Wielding the axe as a weapon, the Rakshasa delivered swift blows analogous to a violent storm, severing all hope of its enemies.

On the fifth arm, the Rakshasa held a finely crafted sword. The blade, made of refined steel through numerous times of smelting, brimmed with intense dominance and solemnity. Intricate patterns were drawn on the scabbard, narrating a delicate visual story. With adept swordsmanship, the Rakshasa swung the blade as if each strike were a bolt of lightning piercing through enemies and severing their lives in a blink.

On the final arm, the Rakshasa held a massive spear. The spearhead was made of sharp tips, while the shaft was long and sturdy, encased in dark metal. The spear was dreadfully lethal, and the Rakshasa wielded it expertly as an indestructible Divine Artifact. The spear’s tip could seemingly pierce through heaven and earth, inspiring awe in one’s heart.

The Rakshasa’s legs and feet were, likewise, quite memorable. Its legs were packed with powerful muscles, seemingly harboring infinite strength. Each stride it took sent tremors through the ground. Its large feet crushed the soil, creating explosive eruptions of dirt and stone with each step, exemplifying its barbaric cruelty.

The appearance of the Six-Armed Rakshasa was incredibly terrifying. It often appeared at night, its silhouette as cruel and swift as a sudden emergence of a demon. Its hideous face and demonic gaze seemed even more menacing in the dark. The weapons swung around in its six arms, gleaming with a chilly light. Even when observed from afar, one could feel the evil and oppression it exuded.

When the Six-Armed Rakshasa appeared, the entire scene was pervaded by tension and terror. Erupting from the darkness, its figure was suffocating. Its massive body enveloped in a black fog, its scales shimmered in the dark creating a sinister halo. Its monstrous face and terrifying figure induced shivers even without a chilling wind. It appeared as if it emerged from the depths of hell, bringing an aura of death and destruction.

The eyes of the Six-Armed Rakshasa were the most unnerving part of the creature. It had six eyes, each filled with malice and cruelty. Its eyes were as dark as the abyss, and the glint in its pupils seemed capable of devouring everything. Whenever it fixed its gaze upon you, you could feel fear and despair creeping into your heart.

Apparently, this was another illusion manifested by the Old Beggar.

Upon seeing the apparition, White Mitchell curled his lips into a rather triumphant smile, muttering, “Just what I needed.”

“Since you have summoned Rakshasa to counter me, then, I shall use a devil to subdue your Six-Armed Rakshasa!” White’s words, loud as thunder, erupted on the spot.

The moment White’s words fell, his form turned ethereal, shrouded by a black fog.

Following that, a colossal deity began to gradually materialize.

This was the first devil in history, Matias himself!

Matias was a mysterious spirit known for turning evil to good and punishing wickedness. His visage was unforgettable, a mix of imposing looks, muscular body, and an aura brimming with dominance.

Matias looked handsome, with a well-defined facial contour. His facial lines were striking yet clear, his eyebrows high and eyes sharp yet full of life. His dark skin exuded masculinity, while his well-sculpted muscles displayed his sturdy physique. Although his face was marked with a tinge of resolution, his eyes poured warmth and sympathy for the good and caution towards evil.

Matias, with his towering and robust stature, always radiated an awe-inspiring and dignified aura. His erect and powerful body, broad shoulders, thick back, and burly arms studded with muscles all emanated a strong presence. Each step he took seemed to make the earth tremble. His strides exerted a solid force that was impossible to ignore, whether on the banks of the Ganges or the precipitous mountains.

Matias’s attire was unique too. He wore a radiant red robe with a golden belt around his waist. The robe was embroidered with golden dragon motifs, accentuating Matias’s grandeur. The enormous red gemstone embedded in the golden belt, flickering with a blinding light, was irresistible. A longsword hung from the belt, with a heaft carved in glazed dragon patterns, reflecting Matias’s pride and grandeur.

In Matias’s hand was an extraordinary divine sword, fiery red in its entirety with the hilt studded with golden dragon patterns. This divine sword, bestowed with magical powers, could pierce through the souls of evil beings and put them under the law. The sword gleamed with an incredible glimmer and radiated a dread-inspiring power, truly symbolizing the immense strength associated with Matias.

Matias exuded an unmatched aura that was impossible to resist. When he appeared in a crowd, every gaze was drawn towards him. His aura firm and penetrating, whether evil spirits or wicked men, all felt an intangible fear in his presence. The overwhelming dominance in his terrifying aura left his enemies in awe.

For Matias, his beard was a prominent part of his image. His beard, growing freely on his broad chin, was thick and dense. With its display of manliness, the beard accentuated his grandeur and dominance even more.

His eyes reflected his deep resentment of evil, the gleam was sharp with a fierce light. When his gaze focused on the evil ones, a blaze seemed to ignite within, frightening one to the bone. His bright and focused eyes were the most captivating part of him, containing Matias’s insight and determination towards the good and evil of the world.

“This demon of mine is just the right remedy for your Raksha!” The monstrous figure of Matias bellowed, echoing with White Mitchell’s voice.

The Arm Rakshasa sneered at his words: “Arrogance!”

As his words echoed, the Arm Rakshasa initiated his attack.

Matias’ figure began to emerge. Towering and formidable, he exuded a bone-chilling aura of evil. A terrifying roar echoed throughout the space. With the emergence of Matias, the Arm Rakshasa too revealed his true strength.

The Arm Rakshasa materialized before Matias with six enormous serpent-like arms, each glowing with a brilliant golden light. His evil eyes gleamed with an infinite desire to kill, a chill that sliced through the hearts of men.

Matias advanced instead of retreating, wielding a giant axe with a domineering force, he brutally swung it at the Arm Rakshasa. The colossal shockwave erupted, causing the entire space to tremble. His powerful force caused the surroundings to crumble, and dust filled the air, creating a hazy scenario.

The Arm Rakshasa swung all six arms simultaneously, emitting dazzling golden light. Each swing felt like a tear in the air, creating sharp, cracking noises. Like a spinning battle axe, he quickly ascended into the air, fiercely confronting Matias.

Matias moved nimbly, tightly gripping the handle of his giant axe. The blade whistled through the air, expertly evading the Arm Rakshasa’s strikes. Matias’ eyes flickered with a sharp light as he counterattacked ruthlessly. His giant axe, like a lightning bolt, carried an ear-splitting oppressive force, fiercely chopping at the Arm Rakshasa.

The Arm Rakshasa remained unflinching, his arms stretched out like serpents, viciously coiling around Matias’ giant axe. Utilizing his own potent force, he managed to stalemate Matias’ assault. The collision of these two gods’ powers intermingled, filling the air with a bloody scent.

The fight persisted, their moves intertwined, and the air filled with the crackling sound of sparks. An aggressive punch thrust at Matias, whose axe spun and hammered against the chest of the Arm Rakshasa with astonishing speed. Despite wounds appearing all over their bodies, they didn’t back down.

Matias’ massive form shimmered with a golden illumination; with his relentless strength, he effectively dissolved all of Arm Rakshasa’s attacks. He then swung his axe, creating a thunderous sound, sharply slicing towards Arm Rakshasa’s neck.

The Arm Rakshasa emitted a shrill scream, his evil eyes glaring ruthlessly at Matias, gritting his teeth in anger. His arms writhed like serpents as he broke free from Matias’ grip, channeling all his strength into a swing.

A powerful force erupted. The Arm Rakshasa’s arms transformed into streaks of golden light, attacking Matias with terrible force. Matias’s expression grew solemn, realizing that the Arm Rakshasa was more powerful than he imagined.

Among the flying debris, Matias resolutely bore the brunt of the Arm Rakshasa’s vigorous offense, his axe traced radiant arcs in the air. The Arm Rakshasa tried to suppress Matias but realized that his sinister powers could not shake Matias’ resolve.

He watched Matias dodge his attacks repeatedly, unfazed. Matias, despite his numerous injuries, stood there, radiating an invincible power.

In this savage duel, the Arm Rakshasa’s strength gradually depleted; his attacks could only barely obstruct part of Matias’s blows. But Matias’s power seemed indefatigable, each attack carrying an overwhelming momentum, pushing the Arm Rakshasa into a corner.

The Arm Rakshasa’s body began to sway. He roared, attempting to counterattack Matias, but his strength was nearly depleted. His six arms began to tremble, unable to withstand the force of Matias’s blow.

Seeing this, Matias relentlessly launched a violent attack. His giant axe, like a bolt of lightning, tore through the air and struck the body of the Arm Rakshasa, making a deafening sound. The Arm Rakshasa was forced backward, losing his balance repeatedly. His body flickered unpredictably, continually sparkling with fresh blood.

The Arm Rakshasa emitted a horrifying scream, his face twisted and vicious; he angrily shouted, “Matias! Damn you, I will not let you succeed!”

The Arm Rakshasa gathered his remaining strength, his body emitting a burning red glow, akin to a demon incarnate. He swung his six arms, heavily striking Matias’s chest, causing a thunderous noise.

Matias was knocked back, he fell heavily onto the ground, creating a large pit. The veins on his forehead bulged as he struggled to stand up.

The Arm Rakshasa quickly charged in front of Matias, a cold smile hung at the corner of his mouth. He raised one of his hands, preparing to deliver the deadliest blow to Matias.