Annihilation?
The moment Grindelwald's command rang out, the sorcerers snapped from their collective trance. Until now, they had focused solely on containing the divine essence—a precious resource they had only dreamed of possessing.
Their instincts had been to capture, to preserve, to acquire.
But with this radical shift in strategy, the assembled sorcerers immediately altered their approach. Death-infused black blades materialized from shadow. Spectral skull sigils pulsed with forbidden magic. Dark green mists of ancient curses billowed forth.
All these deadly forces converged on the scattered fragments of white-gold divine essence.
Upon contact with these dark magics, the luminous essence began to fade and dissipate. Sensing the mortal danger, the remaining essence halted its emission, retreating toward the safety of the colossal soul-body.
Relief washed over the sorcerers. They had avoided the worst outcome—for now.
Their momentary respite was brutally short-lived.
BOOM!
The immense divine soul, previously motionless, began to tremble with mounting fury. From above, a colossal fist—partially transparent yet radiating overwhelming power—descended upon them with devastating speed.
"Hold fast!" someone shouted desperately. "We cannot allow the essence to reunite with its soul!"
The sorcerers' expressions tightened with dread as they watched the enormous, translucent fist plummeting toward them. With frantic motions, they manipulated their sling rings to strengthen their collective shield.
The defensive barrier, originally gray-black in coloration, suddenly blazed with arcane light. Countless intricate runes flowed across its surface, reinforcing its structure against the impending impact.
BOOM!
Too late. Too fast. The divine fist collided with their shield with cataclysmic force. Nearly every sorcerer present paled at the sheer magnitude of the impact.
By some miracle, they had survived—but barely.
Before they could recover, darkness fell upon them once more as another massive fist descended.
"HOLD!" came the desperate cry as everyone gritted their teeth, channeling every ounce of their remaining strength into the faltering shield.
BOOM!
Another thunderous impact as the divine soul's fist struck their barrier again. Enormous quantities of conflicting soul energy collided in a spectacular display of magical warfare.
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Many weaker sorcerers collapsed, vomiting blood as the magical backlash tore through their bodies. Even the strongest among them now struggled to maintain consciousness under the repeated assault.
They might withstand one or two more impacts, but beyond that? None dared contemplate their chances.
After all, they were merely mortal magicians facing the wrath of divinity. To the colossal god-soul, these devastating attacks represented little more than negligible exertion—like flicking away bothersome insects.
"What now?" gasped one fallen sorcerer, his voice weak with exhaustion and fear. "I cannot... maintain this any longer."
The implicit suggestion of retreat was clear in his tone. He, like many others, possessed only one life—was this truly worth sacrificing everything?
Similar thoughts flickered through many minds. Numerous sorcerers exchanged uncertain glances, weighing retreat against opportunity. This was, after all, a chance that might appear once in a millennium. To abandon it now meant potentially never encountering such an opportunity again.
For leaders like David, however, such thoughts of retreat were instantly suppressed. The path to godhood was inevitably paved with countless corpses. Danger was not merely expected—it was prerequisite.
If obtaining the divine essence could dramatically increase their chances of ascension, how could they possibly surrender?
"Mephisto, Dormammu," David addressed the two cosmic entities, reluctance evident in his voice. "What course would you suggest?"
After all, these beings themselves possessed god-level power; surely they would have greater insight when confronting another deity.
"I propose retreating with the divine essence," Mephisto replied, his gaze lingering on the white-gold sphere as a smile played across his lips. "The soul-body currently lacks consciousness—it attacks purely on instinct."
He gestured dismissively. "Change location, and you reduce the probability of pursuit. Even should it follow, the delay would provide sufficient time to study the essence thoroughly."
As he spoke, Mephisto unconsciously licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with undisguised hunger as he stared at the divine essence.
Dormammu nodded in agreement. "The god's soul possesses tremendous power, but without its reconnected essence, its reaction speed remains severely limited."
The cosmic entity's voice resonated with cold calculation. "Remaining here to endure direct assault ensures our defeat. However, tactical withdrawal while continuing to attack the soul-body will progressively diminish the threat."
David's expression soured at their proposal. "I considered this approach already."
He gestured toward the restrained essence. "But our current strength barely contains the essence here. Extracting it from this space would prove extraordinarily difficult with our available power."
To his surprise, Mephisto smiled confidently. "Do not concern yourself with that particular challenge. Leave the matter to us."
The demon lord's eyes gleamed with ancient knowledge. "Your responsibility lies in engaging the soul-body."
But even as he spoke—
BOOM!
Another massive impact rocked their defensive barrier. The shield flashed with blinding obsidian light as arcane runes surged across its surface in desperate reinforcement.
They had barely withstood this latest assault from the divine soul.
David's already pale face darkened further at the prospect Mephisto suggested. The task of battling the soul-body was clearly thankless—they could barely see past its ankles, let alone hope to destroy such a colossal entity.
Their collective power would be exhausted long before inflicting meaningful damage.
Moreover, Mephisto and Dormammu's eagerness to transport the divine essence raised immediate suspicion. David found himself calculating multiple contingencies and betrayals simultaneously.
However...
Looking upward, he witnessed another enormous divine fist descending from the heavens with inexorable force.
David gritted his teeth in resignation. "Very well. We'll relocate the divine essence first. We cannot withstand much more here."
He turned to Strange, beckoning urgently. "Strange, take a contingent of sorcerers to accompany Mephisto and Dormammu. Your group will escort the divine essence to safety."
I still cannot trust Mephisto completely, he thought. Better to send Strange, who has demonstrated resistance to Mephisto's influence.
Mephisto's expression remained unchanged—his smile intact as if he had anticipated this decision entirely.
Strange hesitated momentarily before nodding his understanding. He immediately summoned Grindelwald and several powerful fallen sorcerers to his side.
Meanwhile, David hurriedly explained the revised strategy to the remaining sorcerers. Despite disagreement from some quarters, the urgency of their situation silenced most objections.
Additional sorcerers were assigned to guard the divine essence—a concession David granted readily given their desperate circumstances.
With surprising efficiency, the plan received approval. Mephisto and Dormammu began preparing the extraction ritual while Strange and the selected sorcerers readied themselves to depart with the contained divine essence.
As the group departed, David's expression underwent a remarkable transformation. The urgent, serious demeanor melted away, replaced by barely contained exultation.
Staring at the massive divine soul-body before him, ecstasy gleamed in his eyes.
Though his original plans had required significant adaptation, his ultimate goal remained unwavering.
This unexpected turn of events wasn't a setback—it was divine providence.
What he truly desired was not a fragment of godhood.
He wanted to seize the god's body entirely.