Chapter 392-The transformation
Dave's focus remained unwavering. He turned his attention to the enraged tree, which bellowed in defiance.
Abruptly, the colossal tree underwent a metamorphosis because of his interruption and its form shifting into that of a woman.
The enchanting sight that unfolded left the onlookers spellbound.
From the bark and branches emerged an ethereal figure, embodying both beauty and darkness.
Her face, a canvas of otherworldly beauty, held an allure that defied mortal standards.
Perfectly sculpted features were accentuated by entrancing eyes that radiated an enigmatic, almost hypnotic, charm.
ραΠdαsΝοvεl ƈοm Yet, her body was swathed in an obsidian darkness that contrasted starkly with her stunning visage.
The dichotomy between her captivating beauty and her dark shroud was mesmerizing, like a paradox that drew one's gaze.
Despite her tall stature, which rivaled that of Grace, her aura exuded an unmistakable malevolence.
The air seemed to tremble around her, carrying an ominous weight that sent shivers down the spines of those who beheld her.
This woman's transformation was a symphony of contrasts—a breathtaking embodiment of allure and evil, captivating yet terrifying in the same breath.
"How.. hate"
"Hateful"
Amidst trembling words, her voice laced with uncertainty, the woman spoke.
In an instant, her presence seemed to shift, and before anyone could fully grasp the motion, she materialized behind Dave.
With an abrupt and fluid motion, her hand drove forward, her palm piercing into his back with a resounding impact.
"Plak!"
The sound reverberated through the air, a testament to the abruptness and power of her attack.
Dave's chest was impaled by her hand, a shocking and unexpected turn of events that left him momentarily stunned.
The swiftness of her movement was such that he had been unable to perceive it.
"Hate.ful."
The woman spoke, her appearance undeniably beautiful.
However, a lingering suspicion hinted that her form might not truly be a true body.
Dave appeared unperturbed, but an air of fear gripped everyone present, their collective hope pinned on him despite the dire circumstances.
The woman exuded a palpable aura of dread, casting a sinister shadow over the surroundings.
"I see,"
Dave's tone remained calm, even as he comprehended the situation.
Swiftly, his body transformed into a shroud of dark energy, and in an instant, he materialized behind the woman.
His arm snaked around her neck, and he strained to constrict his grip, attempting to choke her.
"Hmm, so you're a clone, an individual gaining consciousness and rebelling against your creator,"
Dave mused aloud.
His words were met with a change in the woman's expression, confirming his assumption.
"And you should be the Moon Goddess's Clone."
Dave had already scanned her, and he quickly realized that she was a clone.
Her powers were not that strong for him to fear her, and she relied on the sacrifices provided by Ciela.
The woman's face changed when Dave said that, and her expression turned cold as her voice chilled, saying, "Hehe, I will kill her and devour her body, but you will die first."
"Then I will be the original."
As tension hung heavy in the air, the woman's eyes flared with a mixture of anger and determination.
She instantly escaped his grasp but in an instant, she lunged towards Dave with incredible speed, her movements a blur of calculated aggression.
Her strikes were swift and fierce, each blow aimed with deadly precision.
Yet, Dave's reaction was nothing short of extraordinary.
As if he had been expecting every move she made, he smoothly countered her attacks with an almost uncanny ease.
His reflexes were finely tuned, and his body seemed to flow with an innate understanding of her motions.
He sidestepped her strikes gracefully, parried her fierce kicks effortlessly, and blocked her punches with an air of almost casual confidence.
The clash between their energies was mesmerizing to watch.
The woman's attacks were powerful and relentless, a testament to her skill and determination. But Dave's responses were on another level entirely.
It was as if he had studied her every move beforehand, as if he knew the very patterns of her attacks before they even materialized.
Despite her fury and intensity, the woman couldn't help but feel a growing sense of frustration.
Her attacks, once precise and calculated, now seemed to be met with an invisible wall that Dave effortlessly erected.
Each time she thought she had an opening, he expertly deflected her efforts, leaving her momentarily exposed.
"How hateful"
Just as she spoke those words, she opened her mouth as if preparing to consume him.
But Dave wasn't about to let her arrogance go unchecked.
Despite her weak state, possessing only the power of a Semi-saint sovereign, he effortlessly imposed his control over her.
With a mere thought, he enacted a sealing technique.
<Seal>
Initially, Dave had been testing her combat prowess, but she had disappointed him.
"What?" the woman exclaimed, her shock palpable as she realized her body had become immobile, her essence imprisoned by Dave's skillful manipulation.
Horror washed over her face, but Dave had no intention of engaging with her at that moment; he still needed to interrogate the matriarch.
He swiftly transported her to his domain, reserving his intentions for her at a later time.
The spectators who had been watching the unfolding scene were left astounded by Dave's overwhelming power.
None had anticipated his capability to effortlessly subdue the fearsome woman.
Abruptly, a woman burst forth from the ground, her face contorted in rage, bearing a clear palm mark on her left cheek.
"You! How can you slap a beautiful woman?"
She extended a trembling finger towards Dave, her anger apparent in the pointed gesture.
Unperturbed, Dave's lips curled into a confident smile as he began to approach her with deliberate slowness.
"You're quite fortunate," he retorted, a subtle smirk playing on his lips, "You are lucky that you are only imprinted with my palm. If you make a wrong move, I will slap my dick to your face."
His words hung in the air, a blend of warning and audaciousness that contrasted sharply with the woman's mounting fury.
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