Soul rings flared, soul skills thundered, roars and explosions rang without end.
The top powers on both sides were evenly matched, locked in a fierce stalemate.
Shrek and the Holy Spirit forces were all-in, neither side gaining the upper hand.
Yet everyone knew: Jeanne and the still-reserved Aglaea were two swords hanging above the Holy Spirit Cult. If they joined fully, the battle would tip at once.
But troublingly, both Zhongli Wu and Huo Yuhao at the eye of the storm showed no panic, only a cold poise that suggested everything was in hand.
"They're here."
Huo Yuhao suddenly looked up at the ominous blood moon overhead, now deeper red, and his lips curved in a frigid arc.
As if to confirm his words—
Boom!!!
A vast, savage figure radiating boundless brutality fell like a meteor, slamming into the earth.
The impact made the whole battlefield shudder, as if in a violent quake.
The newcomer was the Warhead Hoolay. With his arrival, the blood moon's light thickened, glaring and clotted, as though endless blood would drip to devour all light.
"Out of my way, woman!"
Hoolay's low growl rolled like muffled thunder. His scarlet pupils locked instantly onto Jeanne, who was suppressing the Bone Dragon King.
He swung his absurdly massive blade one-handed. It howled with mountain-breaking force, scarlet bloodflames roaring along its edge, cleaving the air as it hacked down toward Jeanne's back in the most direct and brutal fashion.
Plain as it was, the strike condensed peak force and will. Before the blade even fell, its pressure split the ground anew and made space ripple.
"Behind you!"
Xuan Zi and the others cried out in anger and alarm, but each was tied down by opponents; they could only watch the ruinous blade fall.
At the last instant—
Jeanne's gaze sharpened. Holy gold radiance burst about her like an eternal sacred flame lit in the gloom.
She whirled, fluid and swift. Her holy standard—symbol of faith and ward—rose like an unbreakable shield, slotting in just in time.
Rumble—!!!!!!
The deafening blast swallowed all sound.
Blade and banner collided without flourish, and the impact point flared with retina-searing light. A ring-shaped shock wave of mixed blood-red and gold destructive energy swept out like a collapsing mountain.
The ground was scooped like a soft biscuit, leaving a crater over fifty meters wide.
Cracks spidered hundreds of meters from the pit, everything in their path reduced to powder.
Dust and smoke towered skyward.
But when it cleared a little, Jeanne still stood firm at the crater's center.
She was wrapped in brilliant but gentle sacred light. Her white battle dress was immaculate; her holy standard remained upright, its embroidered sigils flowing with sanctity. She had taken Hoolay's mountain-cleaving blow without so much as a scratch.
Though the land behind her had been torn into a yawning scar by the aftershock, she herself was steady as bedrock, her breath unruffled.
This saintly maiden might not be top-tier in pure offense, but in absolute defense she possessed a near "conceptual" endurance—massively mitigating both physical impact and energy corrosion.
"Oh? Interesting."
A flicker of surprise flashed in Hoolay's scarlet eyes, swiftly replaced by hotter excitement and savagery.
He bared a feral grin, raising the blade again as bloodflames surged even fiercer.
"Woman, you can take a beating. Good… Don't break too quickly."
The bloodflames roared, stronger than before.
Clearly, Jeanne's perfect defense didn't discourage him; it stoked his lust for slaughter and conquest.
Jeanne turned back slowly, her white skirt unmoving amid the gusts.
Her clear violet eyes regarded the beastlike Hoolay with calm. She lifted her banner-lance slightly; at its tip, pure golden light gathered and flowed, exuding inviolable authority.
In raw destructive power, she indeed was not Hoolay's match.
But if he wished to crush or kill her, that would be no easy feat—unyielding guardianship and remarkable endurance in adversity were her forte.
"Mr. Jing Yuan… even you…"
At that moment, Han Ruoruo's voice sounded, heavy with disbelief and deep bitterness.
Her gaze slipped past the chaos to a broken stone pillar not far away.
There stood the stalwart general of the Xianzhou, arms folded, watching calmly. His stance needed no words.
When Bei Bei chose to stand by Tang Ya without hesitation, Han Ruoruo had already felt foreboding. But when Jing Yuan truly ceased his duel with Hoolay and, by near tacit posture, stood opposed to them, every Shrek member's heart sank.
All their prior tactics had been built around this unfathomable Xianzhou general—his strategy, his power, his command presence. He had earned their trust and reliance.
Now that most reliable pillar had become an ambiguous "bystander."
The turn left a bitter taste in Han Ruoruo's mouth.
"Apologies. It seems my stance has changed in an unexpected way."
Jing Yuan's voice remained mild, with a trace of clear regret.
His gaze fell upon Bei Bei holding Tang Ya tight below, and his tone carried genuine helplessness.
"To be honest, this turn of events surprised even me."
He had not foreseen his Master would, to protect a girl, make a choice so resolute as to break with their prior camp.
In his original world, faced with abomination like Hoolay, he would fight to the death to exorcise it utterly.
But this was a Holy Grail War with different rules; faction lines were blurred.
He felt no guilt—Servants ultimately sought the Grail, not the destruction of any one force.
Of course, given the chance, he would still prefer Hoolay leave the stage.
For the moment, however, with Bei Bei joining the Holy Spirit Cult, he and Hoolay were, nominally, on the same side.
But "same side" did not mean he would help the Holy Spirit Cult against Shrek.
At least now, he had no intention of striking former short-lived comrades. That was not his way.
Across the way, Hoolay hefted his brutal blade and glanced up at Jing Yuan on the pillar. Though savagery still burned in his eyes, the undying murderous mania had faded.
He was brutal and bloodthirsty, but no mindless beast; he possessed keen battle-wisdom.
With Master information delivered and the faction shift clarified, he would not continue to fight Jing Yuan to the death.
Thus the two wordlessly chose to cease.
"Aglaea!"
Seeing that Jing Yuan truly would not intervene, Han Ruoruo secretly breathed out and shot Aglaea a look.
Aglaea inclined her head. Her pale hand rose elegantly, closing on empty air—lightning flared.
A long sword wreathed in blazing golden thunder condensed from the void into her grasp.
The blade thrummed, as though countless fine golden threads—laden with rules—wove and flickered within!
At the same time, without a sound, the dressmaker puppet she controlled with golden threads appeared, standing like a loyal shadow at her rear flank.
In the next instant, Aglaea and the dressmaker moved together, left and right. Their killing intent intertwined, locking Hoolay in place!
Screee—!
Ripping thunder tore the sky. Myriad golden bolts burst at once, weaving into a heaven-covering net of lightning that screamed with annihilating edge and dropped over Hoolay.
From the other side, the dressmaker's ten fingers danced; countless seemingly supple yet razor-sharp transparent threads became invisible blades, slicing for every vulnerable angle around Hoolay.
Even Hoolay's careless air vanished before this sudden full-force pincer; gravity settled on his face.
He growled, swinging the giant blade across. A surging blood-red aura erupted like an explosion, crashing head-on into the golden thunder net.
Rumble—!!!
The roar of annihilating energies was deafening.
In the instant Hoolay checked the net, Jeanne moved. Her banner-lance quivered; holy gold flowed like a tide once more—not to strike directly, but to form walls and bindings of light that precisely interfered from the flank, drastically limiting his power and space to dodge.
In a heartbeat the three-way battle was formed: Jeanne on defense and control, ironclad. Aglaea on offense and cunning angles, razor-sharp. It was their first true cooperation, yet their synergy was astonishing. In a blink they dragged the dread Hoolay into a fierce deadlock.
The battlefield's heat spiked again, entering a white-hot blaze.