MillionNovel

Font: Big Medium Small
Dark Eye-protection
MillionNovel > Transmigrated With A Time Chamber In DxD > Chapter 209

Chapter 209

    Igor looked straight at Atid, his eyes not once diverting from his. Atid had his sacred gear active while a gentle golden aura emanated from him.


    [Hehe…]


    Perhaps it was because they had been friends for so long, but the war no longer mattered to them. All they wanted was to embrace the Saiyan ways and fight each other.


    “SOLDIERS! CHARGE!!!”


    .


    |DxD|


    .


    War, a bloody spectacle. No matter how glorified it appeared on the outside, very few know or are willing to comprehend the amount of bravery it takes to pick up a weapon and kill another man for an ideal.


    All the soldiers from both sides attacked each other with a passion. This was no place for the weak of heart. This was not a place for trembling hands. From young children and old adults, there was no distinction.


    A weapon did not have eyes. As long as it found flesh…


    Puchi!


    …it would pierce through.


    “AAAAAAAH!”


    Low Class, Middle Class, High Class, Ultimate Class, God Class…there was no class distinction. There were no separate battlefields. There was no turn-based combat or fair fights. A high Class could immediately find themselves on the pointy end of a god class’s spear. A young recruit could find themselves caught in the crosshairs of an old veteran.


    There was no such thing as retreating. Retreating meant death. The moment you turned your back on the enemy, it wouldn’t be them who would kill you. It would be your ally. In a bloody battlefield where corpses were stacked on top of each other, prestigious uniforms would be dyed red. Emblems would be covered with so much dirt that the only way to tell an ally from an enemy was the direction they were facing.


    “WITH ME SOLDIERS! PRESS ON!!!”


    The only shining light, the only beacon in a warzone clouded by dust were the yells of generals who emphatically lead their troops. The blazing power of a god class cut through lower classes like a sickle through grass.


    Daring to fly in such conditions was the same as mingling with death. And death, was a very cruel mistress. A poor young asura did not know this as he flew up in fear. All his right arms were cut off, his two remaining left arms holding onto the bleeding stumps. He was young, his eyes covered in tears as his panicked gaze looked left and right, his two large demonic wings keeping him above the chaos.


    His breaths were heavy, the pure adrenaline coursing through his body preventing him from feeling pain that would’ve otherwise left him crippled. It was true that resurrection along with the complete restoration of a body was possible, but it was only now that he realised all the warnings he received before joining were not jokes.


    “I-I don’t want to be here! I want to go hom-”


    Puchi!


    His words were cut off as a spear pierced right through his chest.


    “...”


    Looking down at the offending instrument, he was barely able to comprehend what was happening to him before a young boy around his age suddenly…


    Su!


    …appeared in front of him.


    “HA!”


    Gripping the spear tightly, Cao Cao did not pull it out, but slashed upwards, completely splitting the young asura open from the chest like a watermelon.


    Su!


    Not waiting any longer, he released a small burst of power that propelled him towards the ground once more, just in time to evade three acupunture needles that would’ve impaled him from the back. Unfortunately, the young asura was not so lucky.


    Fortunately, he was already dead. His body lifelessly fell towards the ground where it would join other corpses. Yet fate would not let him off. An ultimate class deva who was defending against attacks from a six-armed asura quickly grabbed the corpse that was about to fall and used it as a shield.


    Puchi!


    Completely uncaring that he used a child as a flesh-sheath for an axe, the deva used this opportunity to manifest a new golden sword…


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    “Die.”


    …and pierce his shocked opponent.


    “...”


    The axe-wielding asura did not react to having his heart stabbed. His eyes were on the young asura he had axed on the shoulder.


    “B-Brother…”


    Even as he felt his lifeforce wane, the asura could only helplessly mutter these last words before he immediately got decapitated by another deva.


    Shiiing!


    It was a cruel coincidence, one that ultimately cost him his life. Resurrection existed, but at what price? This was war.


    “We are needed five kilometres east. The situation is volatile.”


    “Alright.”


    Su! …Su!


    And just like that, the two devas vanished with complete disregard for their fallen enemy. There was no compassion, no empathy. Such emotions were a hindrance, a cause for hesitation. In war, you had to kill and move on. This was not a sport. This was survival, and the veterans were called veterans for a reason.


    For they had mastered the art of leaving their sentimentality at home. In war, only an obedient killing machine was needed. And that is what they were.


    .


    |DxD|


    .


    “...”


    The tragic scene below did not go unnoticed by Igor. With his arms crossed, he impassively gazed down below like the rest of the supreme class with him. He caught the word the asura said before he unfortunately died, but Igor felt…nothing.


    Too many similar incidences existed and he’d seen so much that just like the veterans, his eyes and heart had become dull to such incidences. It was only three years, but he had seen and lived through over thirty wars. He had once been down there like the rest of them…


    …and he thrived.


    “Tch.”


    Igor had liked watching that six-armed asura fight. It was a complete waste for him to die like this, all because of his weak brother who couldn’t die somewhere else.


    “My, my, Igor. Did you find something distasteful to your eye?”


    “No, Nandi. I just saw a needless death, that’s all.”


    It was truly needless. He was strong for someone in the realm of Ultimate Class and Igor had come to like his fearless fiery attitude.


    “Oh? I see what you mean. Truly he might not recover from this.”


    “...”


    Igor had no words to say there. He could only imagine if the roles were reversed and his enemy used Asia as a-


    [No. That will never happen.]


    And as for letting Asia experience war, that was something he was also vehemently against. As long as she was strong enough to protect herself, he would be satisfied.


    Regardless, now was not the time nor place for sentimental thoughts. His job was to only observe the fight below and temper his mind. He was no longer fighting with opponents in the realm of god class. He was no longer one of the strongest in the battlefield. He was certainly not the weakest, but none of his new opponents would be easy to kill.


    [I won’t die…]


    He had never died before. He had seen the brink, but had never tasted it. He was determined not to taste it any time soon. But whether fate would have other plans, that would remain to be decided.


    Indra’s and Shiva’s armies were in a deadlock, but Shiva’s was steadily being pushed back. The superior numbers made this battle gradually turn in Indra’s favour.


    “...”


    Shiva remained impassive to this sudden turn of events. Even though it weren’t the times when Igor and Atid participated on the opposing side, he didn’t expect his army to win.


    “Dimori.”


    But he held some expectations for Igor.


    “You must win.”


    It was not a request. Shiva was not asking him to win the war, but to win against Atid.


    “...”


    Igor did not rush to answer. It was not out of fear or hesitation, but out of contemplation. Atid had managed to keep up with him during their fight on the Pacific. His friend must’ve learned some new tricks as well.


    “I will win.”


    Regardless, he wouldn’t let himself lose to Atid.


    “Good. Mahabali.”


    “Yes, Lord Shiva.”


    As soon as Shiva called his name, Mahabali who was standing at the front knew it was time to call for a retreat.


    Su!


    For a brief moment, he disappeared from view before he reappeared once more. It didn’t take long before down below, the horn for retreat was sounded. Fighting desperately, Shiva’s army retreated to the boundary before finally, they all vanished into motes of light.


    “VICTORY!”


    “““VICTORY!!!”””


    Indra’s army cheered at their victory. A few finally allowed themselves to collapse on the ground. The constant production of adrenaline and release of energy made them feel tired after over half-a-day of fighting.


    For some, it was their first war. Unfortunately, this was reality and in reality, there were no cheers. Only tears. Very few cried in relief and joy. The rest cried not because they were happy about victory, but because they survived.


    They killed, killed, and killed constantly in order to continue living. The mental impact of killing so many people no doubt affected them. This was also another trial for them and right now. They either surpassed this hurdle and moved on, or they crumbled.


    For those in the know, this was a filtering event, to cast out the ones too weak to continue. Every veteran silently eyed the recruits with varying gazes. They once had to go through such a trial as well. Would they evolve through the pain and become men, or would they fail and have looks of shame casted upon them as they left for home?


    It was cruel, but it was reality for those living in the Heavenly Realm. Thousands of years of monthly wars had transformed this into a culture, a trial by fire that every boy must go through in order to be considered a man.


    Among those boys, one in particular stood headstrong with his spear in his hand. Cao Cao was absolutely drenched in blood, yet his eyes remained firm. Even as blood dripped from the fringes of his hair, he did not break like the others.


    His hands trembled as he held the spear. It was not his first time killing, but it was his first time killing so many people. It was not his first time seeing horrors, but he never imagined they would be on this scale.


    He had seen the cruelty of humanity, devils, and fallen alike when he was sold by his parents. He was no stranger to bloody scenes or staining his spear with the blood of his foes. But, this was war.


    Tremble…tremble…


    Regardless…


    *Grips Spear Tightly*


    …he would evolve past this and become stronger.


    .


    AN


    .


    Now I see where a tad of Igor’s darkness comes from and why the lives of other people mean so little to him. War, to put it crassly, is shit and he lived through that.


    Today is Friday so until the next chapter. OR, you can now read up to five chapters ahead of everyone else. If you’re interested, check out my p.a.t.r.e.o.n under the name, HolyGambler.


    Otherwise, I’ll come back with two more chapters on Monday…hopefully.
『Add To Library for easy reading』
Popular recommendations
A Ruthless Proposition Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13) Mine Till Midnight (The Hathaways #1) The Wandering Calamity Married By Morning (The Hathaways #4) A Kingdom of Dreams (Westmoreland Saga #1)