pertwk Page 631
Page 631
He was not "teleported" here.
This is reincarnation!
Just a moment before that body, bearing the properties of the "Fireball Ant" and the power of Typhon, transformed into the core of destruction amidst the blooming of the crimson lotus—
Matou Ike's cold, mechanical mind has already activated the most fundamental life-saving power of her existence—reincarnation!
His core consciousness (an aggregate of soul, memory, and will) was like the most precise program being compressed and extracted in an instant, transforming into an invisible data stream that transcends the constraints of matter, ignoring spatial distance and energy turbulence in a manner akin to "spiritual tunneling".
It was precisely injected into another group of construct insects, which were pre-distributed around the perimeter of the battlefield and lurking in the shadows and crevices of the ruins, as "spare supplies"!
He is standing here right now.
Its body was constructed from a new swarm of insects, its skin slightly pale, with a newborn, unnatural, damp, and cold sheen.
His breathing was slightly unsteady, each inhale seeming as if he were adjusting to this "brand new" body. The speed at which the eerie light flowed in the depths of those demonic eyes seemed to slow down as well, revealing a deep weariness after a tremendous energy depletion.
Just as Matouchi's body, constructed from a swarm of newly born insects, was still trembling slightly from its rebirth, and its azure demonic eyes were fixed on the pure white figure in the center of the pit, casting its "appetizing" gaze once more—
"Where did this guy come from?"
A woman's voice, tinged with obvious impatience and confusion, rang out abruptly from the shadows behind him, like a blade slicing through the frozen air.
Accompanied by languid footsteps and a faint scent of tobacco, a tall figure strolled out from the deeper shadows of the street corner.
His signature red hair, like burning flames, shimmered with an almost eerie, aggressive sheen in the faint phosphorescence of the ruins and the eerie glow of the distant pit.
No further distinguishing features are needed; the red hair alone is enough to identify the newcomer.
Aozaki Touko. "The Crimson of Pain," the Grand Puppeteer, was pushing up her signature glasses. Her gaze behind the lenses was sharp as a scalpel, passing over Matou Ike's shoulder and piercing unabashedly into the inhuman being at the center of the deep pit.
Matou Ike did not turn around, seemingly unsurprised by Touko's appearance.
He continued to gaze in the direction of the deep pit, his voice low, tinged with a hoarseness born of rebirth and an almost self-mocking helplessness:
"Who knows?" He paused, as if chewing on an unpleasant word.
"...But this also counts as...owing Barthezmello a favor."
He sighed softly, a sigh filled with genuine emotion. "It's...very distressing."
"Favors?" Aozaki Touko scoffed, walking to Matou Ike's side. As striking as her signature red hair was the undisguised disdain in her tone.
"Unexplained favors."
She took a deep drag of the cigarette between her fingers, slowly exhaling the grayish-white smoke. Her gaze swept over the devastated crater and the True Ancestor standing within it, as if examining a failed work of art.
“You clearly don’t need her…” Orange’s voice carried an almost sarcastic precision, “…with your 'eyes and ears' that are everywhere like a sewer rat, you could have found out, right?”
She was referring to Arcueid's existence and the threat it posed.
Orange clearly believes that Matouike's own insect magic monitoring network is sufficient to provide early warnings before the True Ancestor Princess causes greater damage, and there is no need for Barthemello's "reminder" or intervention.
As he spoke, Matouchi had already started walking.
He ignored Orange's taunts and paid no more attention to the "appetite" rising in the crimson pupils that had once again locked onto him in the center of the pit.
His goal was clear—to walk toward the edge of the pit, to the pure white figure, illuminated by the eerie phosphorescent light, who had already fainted.
Aozaki Touko raised an eyebrow as she watched Matou Ike walk toward the unconscious True Ancestor Princess.
She didn't stop them, but simply stubbed out her cigarette, flicked it into the shadows of the ruins, and then followed them at a leisurely pace.
The high heels clicked crisply and rhythmically on the broken rubble, sounding particularly clear in the deathly silence, as if keeping a cold, rhythmic beat for Matouchi's actions.
The two walked one after the other toward the "sacrifice" who was unconscious at the edge of the ritual site of destruction.
“Indeed, it can be found,” he acknowledged Orange’s judgment, his voice low and calm, as if stating an objective fact.
“However…” he changed the subject, his tone sharp and insightful, “the ‘arrival’ of that Queen of the Law and Politics Department—or rather, her choice to point out Arcueid’s existence and threat at that moment—reminded me of something.”
"What is it?" Aozaki Touko pushed up her glasses, her gaze behind the lenses sharp as needles, her usual laziness and mockery replaced by a hint of genuine curiosity.
The "thing" that could distract Matou Ike from thinking even under the deadly threat of the True Ancestor must have touched upon a deeper core issue.
"A lateral problem." Matou Ike's answer was concise and precise, like a cold technical term.
"A lateral problem?" Aozaki Touko chewed on the word, and just half a second later, her signature smile, full of sarcasm and insight, reappeared at the corner of her mouth.
"Heh..." A soft, ambiguous chuckle. "Is it about a different aspect of human history?"
"Hmm." Matou Ike nodded slightly, acknowledging Touko's instant understanding.
He had reached the unconscious White Princess, but instead of immediately bending down to check on her, he stood still, his gaze sweeping over Arcueid, who was still indifferently watching from the center of the pit, before turning to the distant ruins of London shrouded in disaster and chaos.
His voice, like a cold analytical instrument, began to dissect the root causes of the world's ills:
"This world..." He paused, as if searching for the most accurate description, "...is currently in the process of forming a Lostbelt." This sentence itself is the most essential characterization of the current situation.
“The core contradiction lies in ‘lateral’—the foundation and possibility of the direction of human history’s development are forcibly distorted, solidified, or even denied.” He pointed to the pure white figure in the center of the pit, as if pointing to a living symbol, “Dead Apostles are the enemies of primates.”
His voice was decisive.
"Their very existence is a complete denial of 'human history'! They are a cancerous growth parasitic on the primate evolutionary tree, attempting to lead it to extinction! The Dead Apostles are the product of denying human history!"
His gaze turned to the void, as if piercing through time and space, and he saw those heroic souls shining in the long river of human civilization.
"In contrast..."
"Heroic spirits are a product that affirms human history."
"They are the crystallization of human potential, courage, wisdom, and even sin! They are the beacons in the long river of human history that define an era and illuminate the way forward! Their very existence is the ultimate endorsement of the value and continuity of 'human history'!"
“And now…” Matou Ike’s voice suddenly turned cold, carrying a heavy weight of knowing destiny, “This emerging Lostbelt, its very beginning—its most basic, most fundamental contradiction—is…”
He took a deep breath and clearly pointed out the suffocating paradox:
"...A world where Heroic Spirits and the Twenty-Seven Ancestors of the Dead Apostles coexist!"
"The relationship between primary and secondary..." Aozaki Touko picked up the conversation, her voice losing its usual playfulness and becoming unusually calm and sharp, as if dissecting a fatal logical error, "...is the main contradiction in the creation of the Lostbelt at this moment!"
"This must be the one..."
Matou Ike's gaze swept over Arcueid Brunstadt, who was staring indifferently in the center of the pit, before turning to a more distant direction shrouded in the shadow of the ancient covenant of the Dead Apostles. His voice carried a cold, penetrating quality.
"...Even after the mysterious concealment failed and the world fell into chaos, the reason why they still kept a close eye on the Dark Six's revival ritual is obvious."
He pursed his lips, a subtle gesture filled with complex emotions toward Basemelo Loreleia's cunning and even ruthless scheme—a mixture of understanding and resentment at her dragging him into it.
Immediately, he ignored the gaze of the "killing machine" in the center of the pit, squatted down, and looked down at the unconscious, pure white figure at his feet.
He turned to look at Aozaki Touko beside him, her azure demonic eyes gleaming with an assessing light in the eerie glow of the ruins:
“This guy…” he gestured toward Arcueid, “…what do you think we should do?”
Aozaki Touko pushed up her glasses, her gaze behind the lenses like the most sophisticated scanner, scrutinizing the unconscious True Ancestor Princess from head to toe.
That look wasn't one of appreciation for beauty, but rather the pure excitement and greed of a researcher facing an unprecedented "living specimen" containing cosmic secrets.
"Take it back first." Her voice carried an undeniable decisiveness, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing together, as if she had already devised a thousand possible solutions.
"Just right..."
A dangerous smile played at the corners of her lips. "...Let me take a look."
"Take it back?" Matou Ike rubbed his chin for a moment, not immediately objecting. His mind was also rapidly analyzing the value and risks of the being before him.
The guy in front of me is indeed very special.
Her true nature cannot be simply defined as a "dead apostle" or a "vampire".
Compared to the Twenty-Seven Dead Disciples...
Those are nothing more than pathetic imitators who chase after the blood of the true ancestors, distort their own existence, and walk the path of denying human history.
She should be considered a kind of elf.
More accurately, she is the embodiment of planetary touch! She is the mediator of nature! Her very existence is an extension and expression of the planetary will at a specific level!
They are both enemies of primates (due to their inherent strength and vampiric urges that could threaten humanity) and guardians of nature (as the planet's sensory organs, they maintain a balance that transcends human comprehension).
Therefore, it can be said that...she is an existence akin to natural touch!
“So…” Matou Ike’s mind instantly connected the previous clues, “…could this also be considered an answer?”
He suddenly realized!
No wonder Lord Bartholomew, who regarded vampires as his mortal enemies and used ruthless methods to purge all non-human beings, would allow Arcueid Brunstadt, who theoretically also belonged to the category of "vampires" and was even more dangerous, to appear on the streets of London!
It was even... as if they "actively" brought her to Matou Ike's side, pointing out her existence and the threat she posed!
Because Bartholomew knew that Arcueid Brunestard, the princess of the True Ancestor, had long surpassed the simple definition of a "Dead Apostle"!
She possesses the touch of the planet! She is the embodiment of the laws of nature!
Its stance and power, in the upcoming massive storm surrounding the "lateral" struggle and the resurgence of the Dark Six Kings, are themselves a variable that can be approached, utilized, and even potentially guided toward the "order" side, transcending factions!
Barthezmero's combination of "laissez-faire" and "reminder" was itself a brilliant move.
This "bomb" containing planetary power was cleverly pushed into the hands of Matou Ike, an "ambitious man" who was also looking for opportunities in the storm. This not only transferred the potential risks, but also allowed Matou Ike to explore its value or trigger a change in the situation!
Having grasped this deeper meaning, Matou Ike had no further objections to Aozaki Touko's suggestion.
“Okay,” he replied simply.
Immediately, he stretched out his arm, his movements anything but gentle, yet with a strange caution to avoid triggering any potential passive defense mechanisms on the other party, and hoisted the unconscious Arcueid onto his back as if carrying a valuable but dangerous object.
The pure white figure nestled softly on his shoulder, platinum-gold hair cascading down, shimmering coldly in the phosphorescent glow of the ruins, creating an eerie contrast with the slightly pale skin constructed by Matou Ikemushi's magic. The scene itself was rich in symbolism—
Ambitious individuals and planetary sensibilities formed a temporary connection amidst the chaotic ruins, almost in a "capture" manner.
Matou Ike, carrying his "spoils of war" or rather, his "trouble," turned and strode away.
Aozaki Touko followed closely behind, her red hair fluttering slightly in the night breeze. Behind her glasses, her gaze remained fixed intently on the figure on Matou Ike's shoulder, as if she had already begun to draw an anatomical diagram in her mind.
The two walked one after the other, their figures quickly disappearing into the deeper shadows of the London ruins, heading towards their temporary lodging in the chaotic city of London.
That place will become the first "laboratory" to analyze this "natural touch," explore the mysteries of its power, and assess its value in the upcoming "lateral" struggle.
Chapter 658 Heroic Spirits and Dead Apostles (4k)
Deep within a castle.
The heavy velvet curtains shut out the chaotic night and possible prying eyes from the outside world. The flames burning in the fireplace were the only source of light, casting flickering, ghostly shadows on the oak wainscoting inlaid with the ancient family crest and the menacing armor on display.
The air is filled with the mixed aromas of aged leather, cigar tobacco, and red wine aged in expensive oak barrels, carrying the weight of power and time.