Volume 7 Chapter 22: The Holy Land Ablaze
The heavy rain could not quench the raging flames.
Feathers scattered in the air, drifting above a city engulfed in a sea of fire. The towering spire, once a sacred site of the high elves, now burned brightly, its silhouette glowing crimson in the firelight.
A dark-skinned, white-haired dark elf warrior leaped and dashed between buildings, twin blades in hand. She launched herself onto the back of a towering angel over two meters tall. Her blade plunged into the angel's neck, throwing its flight path off-course and sending both of them plummeting to the ground. The impact flung the warrior away, tumbling across the scorched street.
Barely regaining her footing, she saw more sword-wielding angels swarming toward her!
"My Dokain, they're everywhere!" the warrior thought grimly.
Raising her weapon, she barely parried the oncoming strike. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the fallen angel rising again. It was muttering in an incomprehensible language as it yanked the blade from its neck.
Not deep enough... she cursed inwardly. I didn't sever its head...
These angels were utterly abnormal—not only were their strength and speed monstrous, but they also regenerated almost instantly from even grievous wounds. If a single strike didn't kill them outright, any attack was futile.
To make matters worse, these creatures were clad in incredibly resilient, full-body armor.
Above, below, and from every direction, winged enemies swarmed unrelentingly. Standing alone in the desolate street, the masked warrior glanced around. There was nowhere left to retreat.
Her trembling hands gripped the black blade tightly, though the magical energy within her was almost entirely depleted. And yet, after all she had spent, she had managed to kill only a dozen or so of these "beings."
'I was one of the Seven Matrons... never thought I'd be pushed to such dire straits.'
She sighed, lifting her gaze toward the distant sky.
Among her six remaining comrades, part of the legendary Seven Matrons, the figures of her allies battled fiercely against a silver dragon. No—only five now... no, four...
Clearly, she could not count on anyone coming to her rescue.
The angels in the rear ranks began chanting magic, while those in the front charged with swords raised, launching their final assault.
This must be retribution, perhaps? she mused.
For joining this war so lightly, for neglecting her duty, for betraying the nation that raised her.
She closed her eyes.
Clang.
The sound of glass breaking?
Then, a series of explosions.
Her eyes shot open, stung by the acrid smell of sulfur and smoke filling the air.
A fist—reeking of sulfur—pierced through the chest of an angel!
The punch tore through its armor and flesh alike, leaving a gaping hole in its chest. The angel collapsed, blood pooling on the ground, spreading slowly.
'Dead? Just like that? The monster's wound... isn't healing?'
"You..." The dark elf warrior started to speak, but the figure before her leapt into the air amidst a series of explosions, vanishing without a trace and leaving behind only her and the scattered remains of the angels.
...
...
...
"The Heavenly Ladder?" Grace asked through the telepathic link shared by the group.
Countless magical projectiles, cast by the chanting angels, bombarded the rooftop where Grace stood. Amidst the fire and rubble, the building crumbled.
On the street below, petals began to swirl and dance in the air. Grace emerged as though taking a leisurely stroll, calmly walking while listening to the telepathic exchange.
A thin barrier shielded her from the rain, allowing her to focus entirely on the conversation.
"It's that impossibly tall tower—you can't even see the top," explained Aurevia through the link. "It's the holy land of this nation, and also a trial ground for the younger generation. It's only accessible once a year, on the first day of spring, and only to elves under forty years of age. So..."
Aurevia, equipped with the flight-adapted, transformable Fallen Angel armor, soared through the shattered cityscape. The magical thrusters on her back roared, propelling her forward like a shadow darting through the chaos.
Behind her, a massive horde of angels armed with various weapons pursued relentlessly. Fire spears, light swords, and arrows rained around her, yet not a single one managed to hit its mark.
"A labyrinth, right? Likely where the Elemental Guardian of Wind resides," Melon added to the telepathic conversation.
The situation was dire—not for her personally, but for the soldiers and civilians. The battlefield was set in residential areas, making combat clumsy and constrained.
Such destruction... Melon hadn't seen anything like this since the bandit raid she encountered when first leaving Sadin Village.
"Exactly," Aurevia confirmed. "A large portion of these angels' forces seem focused on massacring civilians. It's likely a distraction. The main concern is the other group—the angels scaling the Heavenly Ladder—whatever they're doing out there..."
Flying in wide arcs around the towering spire, Aurevia surveyed the battlefield.
At the tower's base, countless angels surrounded a mysterious crystal. Thread-like streams of an unknown substance—perhaps magical energy—flowed from the crystal, being steadily extracted from within the tower.
Higher up, a strange barrier prevented the angels from flying further. Yet, as they continued to siphon energy, the barrier slowly receded upward.
"Their goal is clearly to obtain the Wind Element. I don't know how they're doing it, but if this continues, it's going to end badly," Aurevia concluded.
Conquering the tower through flight was impossible. History recorded numerous attempts by opportunistic elves, all of whom were crushed by the irregular barrier surrounding the spire.
But now, the angels were dismantling that barrier, steadily ascending.
"Agreed," Grace said. "Melon, how's the milk working out?"
"Extremely effective, Grace," Melon replied, effortlessly evading attacks while weaving through the air. "Your hypothesis was correct—just a touch of it makes them easy to kill."
Melon retrieved five glass orbs from her pouch, each filled with a shimmering white liquid.
Click. The orbs were loaded into the Tyrant's Arm.Melon dashed head-on into another wave of charging angels.
"So the reason they're nearly unkillable is their blessings... But dealing with them one group at a time is inefficient. They're everywhere! Isn't there a way to—"
"Grace," Aurevia interrupted. "What if we detonated glass bottles filled with milk and explosives above the rain clouds? Could the spread neutralize the blessings across the entire city?"
"...Uh, I'd have to ask Walson for precision, but... in theory, it could work. Wouldn't that disrupt the clouds, though?"
"I doubt it. Legends say that when the skies are defiled, Lord Dokain responds with wrathful storms. This rain came unnaturally, so I believe Lord Dokain's anger won't subside with a few explosions."
"...Even so, Aurevia, where would you detonate it? With the current northeast wind, the only suitable place would be... Wait, Aurevia, you can't mean... the Holy Land!?"
"The highest point in the northeast? There's no better option," Aurevia replied calmly, glancing back at the pursuing angels. She pulled out a purple-patterned TNT and a cloth bag filled with milk bottles from her pouch.
Who'd have thought this bomb would be used in such a way? Aurevia remembered Walson's words about bombing runs when he handed her the device—a concentrated TNT made from 20 standard units.
"It's an emergency. I'm sure it's fine. Besides, haven't all the labyrinths we've raided been sturdy enough?"
"...But Aurevia, that's your people's holy land!" Grace protested, but her plea fell on deaf ears. From the ground, she could only watch as the figure with black wings shot straight into the sky, pursued by a swarm of angels.
Provoked, the storm clouds that had been gently pouring rain now roared with lightning.
"Oh dear," Aurevia murmured, her expression unreadable behind her goggles.
Calmly, she tied the bomb, the milk bottles, and her Fallen Angel chest plate together. Undeterred by the thunder, she ascended directly into the tempest!
Aurevia lit the fuse.
"Aurevia!" Grace screamed, wide-eyed at the suicidal act.
"So what? It stopped being my holy land long ago!" Aurevia's laughter echoed through the telepathic link.
Black wings pierced the storm.
A brilliant flash. Thunder roared.
<+>
Tn: If you want to see more chapter of this story, please join my Patreon, for $5, you can read all of the available chapter.
Patreon account: https://www.patreon.com/c/u93287265/posts[1]
Latest Chapter In Patreon: Volume 8 Chapter 3: Preparatory Measures[2]
Link to the latest chapter: https://www.patreon.com/posts/128440712?collection=1416594[3]
[1] https://www.patreon.com/c/u93287265/posts
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/128440712?collection=1416594
[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/128440712?collection=1416594