Chapter 722: War?

“Yeah, let’s see what you got.”

Puppet responded to Oliver’s words.

Oliver observed Puppet’s determination, which Puppet then proved through his body that it was no bluff.

Rip-!

The belly of the Zombie Puppet-Archive that Puppet was controlling split open vertically.

The split belly twitched like vertical lips, then opened wide to the sides.

Sticky blood dripped like saliva, revealing teeth made of ribs and a tongue made of intestines.

The sight invoked a primal disgust that seemed ready to devour everything, but the mouth swallowed nothing.

Instead, it vomited.

A large quantity of flesh, bones, and internal organs. It was an endless stream, much like a Gluttonous Pouch.

Squueeeeeeeeeee━!

The mass of flesh attempted to engulf Oliver.

Oliver gazed at the flesh.

It was a mix of countless dismembered bodies, brimming not only with life force but infused with the essence of hell. If left alone, the mass could reach him.

Oliver refused the mass of flesh. It was as if an invisible wall blocked it, forcing it to shift sideways without touching him.

Thanks to that, the fleshy mass split like the Red Sea, squirming and spreading across the surroundings.

“I saw something like this the first time we met.”

“Ah, memories.”

The Contaminated Zone in F-District. This rotten flesh was the same as what Oliver saw when he was trapped underground by Puppet.

The flesh not only formed walls to block his retreat back then, but also served as weapons to threaten him, showcasing its versatility.

The difference now was the sheer scale and quality, implying Puppet had no reservations this time.

It made sense since he’d remodeled the Zombie Puppet-Archive into a tool for summoning this flesh.

Seeing the overwhelming surge of flesh, Oliver quickly determined his course of action. He raised his hand and clenched his fist.

Crunch…

The mass of flesh summoned from the Zombie Puppet-Archive instantly halted.

Rather than attacking Puppet directly, Oliver prioritized stopping the spread of flesh.

The flesh was obviously dangerous.

Infused with hell’s energy, ordinary magic couldn’t stop it. Moreover, it harbored an insatiable greed and obsession for life. Anything it touched would be absorbed.

As it absorbed people, it would grow larger and seek more victims—similar to the nature of Oliver’s Devouring Fire.

If left unchecked, it might devour the entire Tower of Magic or even all of Randa.

Thus, Oliver decided to destroy the Zombie Puppet-Archive, the source of the summoned flesh.

“Khaaaaa!!”

Just as he restrained the mass and was about to attack the Zombie Puppet-Archive, a scream echoed.

One of the Military Mages corrupted by Puppet, screamed at the sight of his ankle being grabbed by the Zombie Puppet-Archive’s hand.

It was the very arm Oliver had pulled off before. Despite being severed from the body, it moved, clutching the Military Mage’s ankle and overtaking his body.

The swelling nerves and fleshy growths creeping from the captured ankle were proof of that.

The grotesquely deformed Military Mage collapsed, transforming into flesh, which spread to infect other mages.

When Oliver blocked the source of the flesh, Puppet just created more on the spot.

“H-Hiiiii…!”

“W-What? What the hell?!”

“Ugghh!!”

Seeing the Military Mage swell and turn into flesh, the surrounding students and mages recoiled in horror, some vomiting.

The visual shock was one thing, but realizing that a high-ranking mage, qualified to become the Tower’s Master, was helplessly defeated caused widespread fear and horror.

Their fear wasn’t baseless. A large number of Military Mages rapidly turned into flesh, spreading like a wave to engulf the nearby mages.

Though Oliver tried to fend off the flesh again,

“You can’t afford to be distracted.”

The Zombie Puppet-Archive, with its arms destroyed and torn off, used the flesh as parts to create new arms and threw a punch.

It was perfectly timed.

Oliver abandoned his attempt to stop the flesh and caught Puppet’s fist.

At that moment, as their hands collided, space itself began to distort.

Puppet had imbued the punch with space-breaking magic, intending to damage Oliver by distorting the space around him.

Crack…

However, the distorting space returned to normal around Oliver, as his hand countered, and Puppet’s fist started to crumble.

Oliver had seized the space magic and immediately turned it into a counter-attack.

As the crumbling fist traveled up Puppet’s arm, Puppet used his other hand to sever the arm and gain some distance.

It resembled a lizard detaching its tail to escape, but Oliver didn’t underestimate it.

No matter what, Puppet’s attack had reached him. Moreover, despite the immense pain involved in the techniques, Puppet continued to lead the fight without hesitation.

It was a remarkable ability. The time and effort to reach such a level was unimaginable… though, the combat style was a bit irritating.

“Ah.”

Momentarily distracted by Puppet, Oliver turned back to where the mass of flesh had formed earlier.

Although its growth should have been significant, the flesh had been destroyed, leaving nothing but remnants.

While Oliver had been blocking Puppet’s attack, Kevin had released the powers of the Archive to attack the flesh mass and protect the nearby students and mages.

This left Kevin’s body with new cracks,

and the Tower’s mages, who had doubted Kevin’s qualifications, now looked at him with shocked expressions.

The most shocked was Tilda, being supported by Yareli. Typically stern, the Skadi Minor School head now stared at Puppet with wide eyes.

It was a look of betrayal.

Well, it could indeed be seen as a betrayal. Yet Oliver wasn’t surprised.

He’d already seen Puppet behave this way in the past.

Puppet likely didn’t even see it as betrayal.

Ironically, despite wanting to be human, Puppet didn’t acknowledge others as humans but as mere tools.

Even raising orphans to experience traces of humanity was evidence of that.

To him, it wasn’t betrayal, just discarding tools that had served their purpose.

Perhaps that was why Oliver didn’t focus on Tilda.

Instead, his attention shifted to Yareli, who was supporting Tilda, and Kevin, who had protected the very Tower members who had doubted and threatened him, at the cost of his own body.

“Hah… is there something you’d like to say?”

Kevin caught his breath and asked.

Oliver shook his head.

He already understood why Kevin had risked his body to protect the Tower. It was simply his duty as Archive.

It was an attitude so admirable it evoked awe. But separate from that, Kevin looked so exhausted that Oliver couldn’t imagine ever wanting to imitate him.

“Good, then may I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Can you handle Puppet by yourself? The rest of us are planning to escape.”

Kevin asked an unusual question. Instead of continuing the fight, he proposed leaving it to Oliver while he and the others fled.

However, it was actually a very ‘Kevin-like’ question.

Kevin was brave, but he wasn’t reckless.

Beneath his courage laid a cold, analytical understanding of both his and the enemy’s strengths.

He knew whether someone could be fought with bravery or not. Whether he could make a difference or not.

And now, Kevin had judged that none of the Tower’s mages, including himself, could contribute against Puppet.

Since Puppet was drawing from the hellish energy emerging from Randa’s crack, Kevin’s assessment was accurate.

Backing off now would be wise, even for Oliver’s sake.

Once Oliver nodded, Kevin silently issued orders to the surrounding Master-level mages, instructing them to evacuate the students posthaste.

“Who said you could let them leave?”

Puppet spoke through the Zombie Puppet-Archive.

His goal was to use collateral damage to restrict Oliver’s movements. He had no intention of letting the hostages go.

So, just as Oliver was about to attack Puppet in response,

Ding! Ding! Ding!

A solemn yet eerie bell rang from somewhere.

He had heard this bell before.

It was coming from the pile of flesh in Oliver’s grasp, where a massive hand holding a staff with a bell emerged and began ringing it furiously.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Rumble…

The bell-ringer slowly rose from the flesh, revealing itself.

It looked like a scarecrow made of several human corpses stitched together.

This was a Golem-Zombie Puppet, a hybrid of both a zombified golem and Puppet’s signature Zombie Puppets.

Oliver had encountered it once before in the forest while searching for the Flesh Cook’s Legacy, but now it had grown even stronger, ringing the bell with all its might.

‘I see why it’s stronger. He enhanced it with hell’s power.’

Puppet had retrofitted the Golem-Zombie Puppet using the hellish energy flowing through Randa’s crack.

As a result, the Golem-Zombie Puppet had gained enormous strength, and each time it rang the bell, it stirred the flesh mass, shaking it in resistance to Oliver’s power.

Like an egg about to hatch, the fleshy ground trembled.

Oliver pressed down harder to suppress the flesh, while the Golem-Zombie Puppet resisted, shaking the bell in a contest of strength.

But the power difference was clear. Each time the bell rang, the rebound force cracked the Golem-Zombie Puppet’s body.

Nevertheless, Puppet didn’t stop and kept shaking the bell. After all, to him, all Zombie Puppets were mere consumables.

Their value lay only in how useful they were, and he could destroy them anytime for his goals.

Crunch━!

The Golem-Zombie Puppet, still ringing the bell in the power struggle with Oliver, finally couldn’t withstand the backlash, and its head exploded.

Yet, the intense thrashing of the overheated flesh mass sent it sprawling wildly once more.

“Eve, Pandora.”

At that moment, Oliver called out to Eve and Pandora into the empty air, and shortly after, a soft glow of magic illuminated the ground beneath the Tower of Magic.

The lights, as if guided by an unseen hand, enveloped each student and mage before forming individual magic circles around them.

Once Oliver confirmed this, he waved his hand, and in the blink of an eye, everyone except Oliver and Puppet disappeared.

“Spatial magic using the World Tree as a medium?!”

“Yes.”

As Puppet marveled in surprise, Oliver advanced.

Then, with a wave of his hand, Oliver attacked Puppet. No fancy techniques, no sophisticated magic, just brute force. It was enough.

Or at least, that’s what Oliver thought.

But that was a bit arrogant.

Seeing Oliver swing his hand, Puppet summoned a book from the Archive in the air and blocked the strike.

Though the book shattered in the process, and Puppet lost another arm, he managed to gain some distance.

Considering he should’ve been obliterated, it was an impressive result.

Even so, Oliver closed the gap immediately and prepared another punch.

Crunch!

Suddenly, something grabbed Oliver’s leg.

A pale, shriveled hand emerged from the mass of flesh covering the ground, gripping Oliver’s leg with strength that belied its appearance.

It was the hand of one of the damned, suffering souls from hell, and Oliver had to stomp down a few times before shaking it off.

During that moment, the Zombie Puppet-Archive split its belly open again, spewing more flesh, expanding its reach over the central plaza of the Tower of Magic.

Only then did Oliver understand the true role of the flesh.

It wasn’t just intended to attack him. It was a medium for channeling hell’s power, like the antenna of a communication device.

The area covered in flesh was now hell under Puppet’s control.

But Oliver wasn’t concerned. He had already evacuated everyone from the Tower, leaving no one else to worry about.

Whether the area was covered in flesh or not, he advanced towards Puppet.

Rippp…

As Oliver moved, a giant maw erupted from the fleshy ground, snapping at him. Its interior was made of sinews and flesh, with teeth formed from skulls and pelvic bones, creating a wall that sought to close and swallow Oliver whole.

Boom━!

The moment it closed, Oliver waved his hand and blew the maw apart.

But Puppet was unfazed, using the flesh as a medium to summon more Zombie Puppets, which charged at Oliver.

The summoned Zombie Puppets were varied: orthodox Druids, Druid-Enforcers, and knights whose impurities had been stripped away by multiple layers of magical refinement.

Each Zombie Puppet was tailored to its origin, and Puppet had enhanced them with hell’s power before sending them out for a brutal assault.

The orthodox Druid Zombie Puppet gathered the Power of Nature into its hand and swung a fist aimed at Oliver’s face.

The Druid-Enforcer buried seeds in the flesh, sprouting a twisted tree with mouths and eyes that lunged at Oliver.

The knight, clad in purified skin, absorbed life force, magic, and hellish energy, concentrating it all into his sword and slashing it at Oliver.

And countless other Zombie Puppets attacked using magic and Dark Magic, focusing on overwhelming Oliver.

But none of their attacks touched Oliver.

The Druid’s fist burst when it landed on Oliver’s face.

The twisted tree strangling forward collapsed with a simple gesture from Oliver.

The knight’s sword, along with the other Zombie Puppets’ attacks, disintegrated into ash with a wave of Oliver’s hand.

Despite Puppet channeling hell’s power for these attacks, they only scratched the surface with Oliver.

Standing amidst the futile onslaught, Oliver asked Puppet:

“Is this all you’ve got?”

“No. This is preparation time.”

Puppet replied, speaking through yet another new Zombie Puppet, one that looked ragged like the Beggar.

Surprisingly, Oliver had seen this particular Zombie Puppet before.

Once during the Flesh Cook’s rebellion in the sewers, and once more during his search for the Flesh Cook’s Legacy.

But what caught Oliver’s attention more was that it housed not just one but several Archives.

Using that body, Puppet was able to stably contain more of hell’s power than ever before and charged directly at Oliver.

As he descended, the mass of hell-infused flesh on the ground resonated, conjuring a multitude of damned hands to bind Oliver.

The pressure came from both above and below, squeezing space itself.

In that suffocating moment, Oliver spoke:

“Yes, you’re doing well. Keep it up. It’ll only make it all the more despairing.”