Chapter 499: Chapter 255: Wolf Mouth Clamp
Fear.
An emotion that arises powerfully and primitively from human instinct when faced with "danger."
It may initially stem from direct sensory input, then, through imagination and memory, extend to a subjective mental perspective.
What did Terry William see or, more precisely, feel?
It was a cold and ancient sense of oppression, laced with pure malice.
Every strand of air around him felt like a tangible lead weight, pressing down on every inch of his skin.
This was neither the thunder from the edge of the heavens nor the bone-chilling coldness of the rain itself.
It was accompanied by the rise and fall of a wolf’s howl and the waving of manes, a darker, more profound fear.
"Catastrophe," concerning survival, regarding the fight to live, the alarm in his heart had already been raised to the highest level.
The golden semi-long hair, drenched by the rain, stuck disheveled to his cheek, and his pale, bloodless lips parted slightly, vaguely exuding a life-like scorching mist;
His nostrils flared uncontrollably, and his pupils were as stiff as those of a dead person.
Terry William stared straight ahead.
At this moment, the dark-haired youth’s pitch-black, cold eyes seemed to gradually merge with the ferocious wolf eyes looming behind him in the rain curtain.
They turned into two bottomless and purely dark voids, seemingly capable of devouring everything, mercilessly and cruelly drawing in his body, will, and soul.
A silent tide of intention to die spread, transforming into a cold hand, instantly grasping his heart.
In a trance, those buried vague memories, under the wash of fear, gradually surfaced in his mind.
It was a terrifying fairy tale told by a wrinkled old woman, like decaying wood, one late night not long after he began remembering things as a child, that kept him awake all night;
It was his first time at the ranch, tightly clutching the reins and being lifted high, ensconced in shadows amidst neighing, with muddy and grass-strewn hooves overhead.
Past traumas and memories permeated his heart.
Fear was gradually escalating into despair and panic.
"Huff... huff..."
Every laborious breath Terry William took felt like pulling an aged, broken bellows.
Accompanying the thick scent of blood filling his nasal passages was the intense pain radiating from a massive wound on his chest.
His entire body was tense like rock, instinctively wanting to grip the knight’s heavy sword, which had silently fallen, planted in the wet soil, inscribed with the family’s motto.
Yet his fingers merely spasmed and twitched, futilely clawing at the cold hilt, like wet cotton, soft and unable to exert strength.
His arms felt as though they were filled with heavy mercury, unable to summon any power, where once they wielded the sword like the wind.
Terry William wanted to flee.
All thoughts of family honor and the desire for the transcendent path... were discarded under the influence of survival instinct.
And just as the negative emotions in his mind intensified, attempting to drive his body to turn and run.
The somewhat tenacious will forged by years of knight training, and muscle memory honed for crisis situations, allowed a last shred of reason to surface.
Jaw clenched, five fingers suddenly grasped tightly.
The knight’s heavy sword was lifted high with both hands, instinctively placed in front.
"Ding!"
The crisp sound of metal colliding erupted amidst the rainwater.
Dazzling sparks flared momentarily and vanished.
The dark-haired youth, who was just a distance away, appeared close in the blink of an eye, the fierce wind generated by the iron-gray longsword threatening to tear apart his remaining will.
Already severely injured under Lawson’s desperate strike in the "Setting Sun Blood Will" state, barely stabilizing the wounds with Healing Potion.
Now, struck with "Fear" under "Teeth Hunting," Terry William’s actual combat power was almost diminished to the lowest point.
He fought Xia Nan purely depending on physical instinct and muscle memory.
The special ability conferred by the "Silver Plated Knight," a layer of silver-white flowing metal, rapidly spread across his skin surface—granting him defense capabilities far beyond other professionals.
But before it could spread completely, from his opponent ahead, the deliberately exposed flaw he could effortlessly see through before.
At this moment, it unconsciously prompted him to flip his wrist, lift the longsword, and strike fiercely at that "flaw."
"Buzz..."
The hilt did not transmit the familiar sensation of the blade cutting through armor and tearing into flesh.
Instead, there was an odd and awkward feeling, as if chopping onto cotton, the force nowhere to vent.
Below the sword, instead of flesh or iron armor, was a shield exuding an ochre-red glow, semi-transparent.
The knight’s heavy sword struck its surface, only leaving energy ripples akin to waves, unable to penetrate even a tiny bit, sliding down the smooth and rounded arc of the shield.
The whole person thus fell out of balance, caught in the rigidity following a sword swing but before its recovery.
"Damn!"
A sudden sense of cold terror surged in Terry William’s heart, an alarm of danger blaring, inducing a sense of foreboding.
As expected.
Just as the heavy sword hit the ochre red shield, that long, sharp Beheading Longsword also silently slipped out of view, turning into a streak of cruel, cold iron-gray sharpness in his blind spot.
An upward slash.
"Swoosh."
The tightly gripped heavy sword, the thick right arm wrapped in crimson blood, spiraled through the air.
The neat cut at the shoulder, where blood vessels still diligently transported hot blood, yet had no place to go, could only spill uselessly onto the ground.
"Ahhhh!!!"
A piercing, agonizing wail erupted in the depths of the torrential rain.
The overwhelming, dizzying pain seemed to let the handsome young Knight Captain temporarily forget the fear within his heart.
The remaining left arm suddenly swelled, wrapped entirely in silver-white metal, blasting explosively towards the enemy like a bomb.
But clearly, in terms of reaction speed and agility, the opponent was faster.
The dark-haired youth, clad in a matte black Plate Chain Composite Armor and encased in shadows, merely turned slightly, easily dodging Terry William’s strike strong enough to shatter rocks.
Then...
"Swoosh."
The iron-gray sword light flashed once again.
This time what flew and fell was the blond knight’s left arm.
"Gasp... Ah!"
The emptiness and void where both arms had been, along with the surging, intense pain akin to tidal waves.
Let that profound fear, previously suppressed deep in his heart, unrestrainedly erupt like a fountain, consuming battle intent, spirit, will... bit by bit, all of it.
From the Molton family, the youngest Knight Captain, ascending to lv5 "Silver Plated Knight" before thirty, the object of countless maiden dreams in the Nianshu Territory, the goal many young people set for themselves.
Driven by greed, attacking what should not be foes out of error.
At this moment, reduced to a pathetic, tail-tucking dog, his mental defenses shattered by ineffable fear, howling and crying, fleeing wretchedly into the wilderness.
Already regarded as prey, how could it be allowed to escape control?
The ferocious wolf beast with pitch-black mane moved its limbs lightly in the pouring rain.
A cry echoed, rainwater whirled.
The Wolf Mouth opened and closed, iron-gray fangs descended upon the vulnerable neck.
"Swoosh... Bang."
The eyes glazed over, the rounded head soared high.
Rolled powerlessly to the ground.
Blood, mud, and grass stained the exquisitely defined, handsome features.
Thump—
The undulating terrain of the mountains caused the head to roll continuously.
Until finally.
It crashed into a pair of dainty leather boots peeking from beneath an ivory white robe’s hem.
Coming to a halt at last.