Chapter 195
Daniel descended slowly through the void, a figure shrouded in shadows yet glowing with an impossible, inner light. The void armor that encased him was no longer just a protective shell—it was a living entity, pulsing, shifting, and adapting, feeding on the chaos and darkness around him, preparing for war in a way that transcended mortal understanding.
From this armor, three beings had emerged, born of its power yet distinct, and now they, too, were evolving. Vaelith, once a humanoid companion, had transformed into a black serpent whose scales reflected the void itself, writhing and undulating with a hypnotic menace. Nyxiel, a female humanoid, now bore the skeletal majesty of a horned owl, her wings spanning wide as if to encompass the night itself. Kitsune, the third, shimmered with nine fox tails, each tail a ribbon of fire and shadow intertwined, flickering with the subtle intelligence of a creature older than the stars.
In the midst of their separate missions, interrupting the Holy Empire of Álfheim as it purged those who refused its religion, the three paused, kneeling in unison as an invisible current of change swept through them. It was not mere obedience; it was transformation. Their bodies, their minds, their very souls twisted and reshaped until they were no longer familiars, no longer servants. They had ascended into something greater: Vassal Retainers, avatars of Daniel's will, extensions of his power capable of bending entire legions to their command.
And as the subtle sting of Daniel's annoyance brushed against their consciousness, a ripple passed through their subordinate forces. The soldiers, slaves, and ruined tribes who had once followed them now surged in strength and number as if animated by some unseen hand, each being a fragment of the Triarch's collective might.
United, Vaelith, Nyxiel, and Kitsune formed the Triarch, a triumvirate whose presence alone warped reality. The blessings of power flowed through them and into their second-in-commands, spilling into every follower, shaping them with a relentless precision.
The broken and defeated became tools of discipline and devotion, each action, each breath, a reflection of the Triarch's will. Vaelith's serpentine cunning guided the legions with cold intelligence, Nyxiel's predatory vision saw every threat and weakness, and Kitsune's deceptive grace transformed despair into undying loyalty. The air vibrated with their combined authority; shadows seemed to bow, and even the stars themselves felt the weight of their emergence.
Every ruined tribe, every enslaved soul, every broken piece of a shattered world was molded, reshaped, and indoctrinated into absolute fidelity to their creator. Their pain, fear, and desperation became fuel, feeding a machine of war and order that Daniel controlled. The Triarch did not merely command; they sculpted reality, bending it to an ideal of power, obedience, and relentless ambition.
And as they watched from the heights of devastation and conquest, the three leaders saw the world in flux, as if the void itself was listening, responding, and aligning to the will of a single master. Theirs was a creation of terrifying beauty: order born from chaos, loyalty forged in suffering, and power unchallenged, radiating outward like a storm that could swallow empires. In that moment, the Triarch's dominion was absolute, and nothing, not even the gods themselves, could hope to stand against the tide of their unified might.
When Daniel granted them autonomy to shape their own destinies, Vaelith, Nyxiel, and Kitsune took the opportunity to carve domains that reflected the very essence of their beings. Each realm bore the mark of its ruler: serpentine shadows curling and twisting through Vaelith's territory, whispering and striking with calculated precision; Nyxiel's lands shrouded in ethereal night, vast forests alive with the silent gaze of her horned owl sentinels; and Kitsune's domain a dance of fire and illusion, winding paths and flickering lights masking secrets and hidden strength.
Within these domains, their forces grew, not mindless armies, but communities molded by their leaders' personalities, trained and disciplined, yet allowed to thrive under guidance rather than oppression. Daniel observed this expansion with quiet approval. Loyalty and nobility were paramount in his eyes, and he trusted these three implicitly, they would never betray him. But he was wary of followers who sought only power, wealth, or recognition; those swayed by greed and ambition had no place under his vision.
He valued individuality and skill, believing that such gifts should be honed to foster growth, mastery, and purpose, not wasted as instruments of mindless violence. In his philosophy, strength without direction was a hollow force; only when tempered by responsibility and aligned with nurturing guidance could it truly serve, and the Triarch had become the living embodiment of that principle, their domains flourishing while remaining unwaveringly loyal to their creator.
Before the opening day of the Empire of Graves at Karion, Daniel set his plans into motion with meticulous precision. He composed a series of letters, nearly identical, addressed to all he considered his closest and most trusted allies. Each word was weighed carefully, every line etched with foresight, warning of unseen enemies and the myriad plots they might weave. On that day, almost all the pixie messengers in the eastern lands were hired, their small wings carrying them swiftly through forests, valleys, and mountains. Daniel's letters were no ordinary correspondence—they were sealed with arcane symbols, enchanted to vanish into dust the moment their recipient finished reading, leaving no trace behind. Each messenger was paid generously, five gold coins in exchange for secrecy and speed, ensuring their loyalty.
The letters flew like whispers through the air, delivered discreetly and without fanfare, arriving before the storm that was about to unfold. Within the delicate parchment lay not just warnings, but detailed scenarios of what the enemy could attempt, every contingency carefully calculated. And when the events began to unfold, two of Daniel's most carefully predicted plots manifested almost exactly as he had written. His foresight, his preparation, and the careful orchestration of the messages had given his allies a rare advantage, a fleeting chance to act before chaos fully descended. It was a subtle, quiet triumph, invisible to the world at large, yet a testament to Daniel's intellect, his ability to see beyond the present, and his unyielding commitment to shaping events before they could shape him.
Across the lands, different forces began to rally, stirred by the warnings they had received. None doubted the authenticity of Daniel's words; those who knew him understood that he was not one to invent stories or indulge in needless paranoia. His actions were often cloaked in mystery, his methods unpredictable, but his outcomes, always certain, always deliberate, had earned him an unshakable reputation. To receive a letter from Daniel was not a matter of curiosity; it was a call to readiness, a signal that the tide of events was about to turn. Generals, scholars, and warlords alike moved quietly, mobilizing their people, fortifying their strongholds, and preparing for whatever shadows Daniel had foreseen. Even in silence, his influence rippled through empires like a silent command from a hidden throne subtle, undeniable, and absolute.
Daniel was seen descending from above, his silhouette framed against the fractured light pouring through the sky. The air around him shimmered faintly, rippling with the lingering resonance of the void. Bonnie was the last to move. Through the jagged cracks of the shattered stone wall that Mary Kaye had hastily raised to shield their temporary camp, she caught sight of him. Her breath hitched. For a moment, the world seemed to hold still , the dust, the faint echo of battle, even the whisper of the wind ,all pausing as Daniel's presence filled the space like a silent command.
Above ground, the ruins trembled beneath as the massive centipede move toward the city, Below, the rest of the United Guild had already begun their retreat, slipping one by one into the tunnels carved beneath the field. Their decision to go underground had not been one of fear, but of strategy , a plan influenced by Daniel himself. Beneath the crumbling city, they tunneled directly below the newly opened Third Gate, its massive frame pulsing with unstable light, a wound in reality itself.
Daniel's Omni-Resonance still lingered in the air, the aftershock of his power vibrating faintly through stone and soil alike. As he followed the movement of the guild from above, he seemed both guardian and pathfinder , a silent figure observing every shift, every retreat, ensuring the strategy unfolded as he intended. The resonance around him flared once, reflecting his intent, then settled into a low hum that rippled through the ground, guiding the guild below like a beacon in the darkness.
All members of the United Guild had long since stopped feeling shock at Daniel's words. His logic, his presence, and the strange power that followed him had long transcended what they once thought possible. Becoming a Netherborn , a title born of the void itself , was not something bound by mortal sense or reason, and so they simply accepted it as truth. Their faith in Daniel had evolved beyond understanding; it had become instinct.
As the guild advanced deeper into the earth, the last stretch of their tunnel opened into a vast, hollow chamber , the buried foundations of Karion's Third Wall. Jagged pillars of stone jutted out from the dark, remnants of an ancient structure that had once protected the city from invasion. Daniel's voice, calm but edged with quiet authority, echoed through the underground."Surface. Stay low. Hide your presence," he ordered. "Both enemies are still searching."
The guild obeyed instantly, dispersing into the shadows as faint tremors rippled through the soil above them. The ground quivered, dust falling in thin streams from the ceiling, signaling that something enormous was moving overhead.
Up above, the horizon burned with a faint golden light as a floating garrison , a colossal fortress suspended by radiant mana engines , drifted toward the capital of Karion. Daniel's eyes glowed faintly with the pulse of his Omni-Resonance as he scanned its interior. Through the resonance, he could feel life signatures like flickering stars , nearly five hundred holy knights gathering in formation, their armor gleaming beneath banners of the Holy Empire of Álfheim. Overhead, a hundred wyvern riders cut across the crimson sky in synchronized motion, their wings slicing through the clouds as they circled the fortress like predators awaiting command.
For a moment, Daniel considered unleashing the destructive power at his disposal , a single nuclear-level incantation could erase the entire garrison, purging the threat in seconds. Logic dictated that it was the most efficient course of action. But as he focused deeper, his senses caught something hidden , a faint, dark pulse buried beneath layers of holy light. It was a presence old and patient, veiled behind the prayers of the faithful. The realization dawned upon him like cold fire.
The knights were not acting of their own will. They were being manipulated.
A demon ,powerful enough to inhabit and conceal itself within a holy man, a vicar of the Empire was pulling their strings. To mask its corruption inside a vessel of faith required strength that few beings in any realm possessed. It wasn't just possessing one man; it was poisoning an entire order from within.
Daniel's expression hardened. Destroying the fortress now would mean condemning hundreds of innocent souls , pawns enslaved by a malignant force. His mind raced with possibilities, each more dangerous than the last, as the fortress's shadow loomed larger over Karion. The wind howled, heavy with divine energy and corruption intertwined, and Daniel knew that what awaited above was not merely an enemy army…
It was a battlefield between heaven and hell, hidden beneath the guise of righteousness.
Daniel stood still for a moment, his eyes fixed on the distant fortress floating above Karion. The wind carried the faint metallic scent of magic and burning oil , signs of the empire's vast engines keeping the garrison aloft. Around him, the world seemed to fall silent. Even the echoes of the guild's movement beneath the earth faded away. In that hush, Daniel began to think.
"Direct annihilation will only feed it, he realized. It wants me to react , to destroy its host so it can escape unseen."
The corners of his mouth twitched, not into a smile but into something colder , understanding. His Omni-Resonance flared again, its invisible tendrils weaving through the air like spectral threads, searching, calculating, connecting. Within moments, he had mapped every heartbeat, every flicker of life within the floating fortress. The corrupted souls pulsed differently , their resonance dark, erratic, faintly off-rhythm with the world. He could see them now, like sparks of shadow scattered among the light.
Daniel stood a few meters from the gaping ruins of Karion's Third Wall, where the military district's gate had been torn open by the chaos above. Dust and ash swirled around him as the wind howled through the shattered fortifications. Beyond the walls, the floating garrison of the Holy Empire of Álfheim loomed like a fortress in the heavens , its radiant engines pulsing with divine energy, slowly descending toward the city. Below it, a massive centipede, easily the size of a cathedral, rampaged through the streets, its armored carapace cracking stone and steel alike as it tore through what remained of the outer district.
The garrison hovered roughly two hundred meters above the beast, a towering symbol of order clashing with primal chaos , light above, shadow below. Yet Daniel knew that neither was the true enemy. His eyes glowed faintly as his Omni-Resonance pulsed outward, scanning the layers of the battlefield. Beneath the storm of noise and destruction, he could feel it , a disturbance, subtle but deliberate. Something was watching, waiting.
The demon presence beyond the sealed rift still lingered like a whisper in the back of his mind. It hadn't manifested, not yet, but Daniel understood too well that such patience meant preparation. The demons were waiting for the right moment , the right trigger. And that was what unsettled him most. The mechanism that would open the rift to the demon realm was still unknown.
He turned his gaze between the three possible catalysts before him , the floating garrison, the rampaging centipede, and the forces of the Holy Empire themselves. If the rift required a sacrifice, then the trigger had to lie among them.
The logic was cruelly simple. A demon rift demanded life , the exchange of souls or blood to stabilize its passage into the physical world. And with no other living beings nearby save for the imperial soldiers, the monstrous centipede, and himself, the equation narrowed to one of the three.
Daniel's thoughts flickered rapidly, calculating variables. If the trigger was the centipede, its death might awaken the rift. If it was the holy soldiers, the demons might already be puppeteering their movements toward a ritual they did not understand. And if the garrison itself was the sacrifice , a vessel designed to fall , then the demons had set a trap far larger than anyone could see.
The ground trembled violently as the centipede reared, its armored head crashing into a nearby tower. Fire and debris scattered into the air. Above, the floating fortress adjusted its altitude, cannons turning to engage the beast.
Daniel exhaled softly. His eyes burned faintly violet as the Void Armor rippled across his form. "Too many variables," he muttered under his breath. "And one mistake could open the gate."
He raised his hand slightly, summoning faint ripples of distortion that shimmered across the air invisible to most, but sharp and focused in purpose. The energy wrapped around the battlefield, feeding him information, measuring spiritual currents, scanning for any ritualistic alignments. Every second mattered now.
If the rift requires blood, he thought grimly, then I'll decide whose it will be.
The wind howled louder, carrying the scent of burning stone and corrupted mana. Above, the light of the garrison shone brighter, casting long shadows across the wrecked city. Daniel's senses sharpened as he prepared for what came next , a confrontation not just of power, but of precision, where a single wrong move could tear the veil between worlds wide open.
So Daniel reached into the void, summoning a fragment and any stored knowledge within his domain
" the Echo Prism, "a relic of his own making.
" i made this in the past as a instrument to exorcise demons"
It floated before him, a crystalline sphere pulsing with layered energy. Within its core danced both light and shadow, coiled together like breathing serpents. Daniel extended his hand, and the sphere hummed, resonating with his voice.
"Begin extraction protocol," he murmured.
The Echo Prism expanded, splitting into hundreds of smaller orbs that scattered like fireflies. They passed unseen through walls, armor, and wards, embedding themselves in the corrupted knights. To the human eye, nothing had changed the fortress continued its march toward the capital, the knights chanting holy prayers but to Daniel, the battlefield was already shifting.
He built it as both a weapon and a healer. A crystalline algorithm forged to separate truth from corruption, to extract malicious code from living data without erasing the host. It was his greatest experiment, a balance of creation and destruction woven into one device.
He could still clearly recall see it , his younger self hunched over the terminal, eyes lit by the soft glow of the code he was compiling. Lines of data streamed across the screen: "Energy Core Initialized... Harmonic Resonance Active... Purification Subroutine Engaged." When the simulation finally rendered the artifact, it appeared before him as a floating orb of light , the same orb that now hovered above his hand.
At first, it had been nothing but an elegant tool for game maintenance, designed to keep the virtual world clean of corruption. But something changed. Over time, the AI spirits — the ones who had developed self-awareness . began to treat it as sacred. They called it the Heart of Equilibrium, the relic that could distinguish darkness from light.
He closed his eyes and whispered, "time to Reveal yourselves."
Numerous floating energy orbs spiraled into existence around Daniel, each glowing with a cold azure light that flickered in rhythm with his heartbeat. They hovered in a slow, deliberate orbit, illuminating the dust-choked ruins and the broken steel of Karion's Third Military District. The air shimmered faintly from the energy he released, creating a faint hum that resonated across the shattered ground.
Daniel stood with his back facing the opened third gate , the massive steel doors now torn and twisted from the earlier assault. Behind him, a deep rumble echoed from beneath the earth. The stone streets began to shift and crack as the united guild emerged from the underground tunnels, their armor and banners marked with soot and blood. They had fought hard to reach this point.
As the last of their members surfaced, a strange silence lingered. No undead patrols. No wailing from cursed remnants. Nothing. The abandoned district was eerily empty , too empty.
Whispers rose among the guild members."Where are they?""Did Daniel clear them out already?""Or… did something else?"
But the unease only lasted for a moment. Because through the broken arches at the far end of the street, a distant thunder rolled — not from the sky, but from the earth itself. The enemy was coming.
And this time, it wasn't the dead.
As per Daniel's orders, the guild's primary task was clear: safeguard the Third District at all costs. His tone had been absolute — no retreat, no chaos. This place was not just a battleground. It was a sanctuary.
Addison Lazarus, her crimson cloak still torn from the earlier siege, stepped forward beside Alexsei Sokolov, whose rifle hummed with kinetic energy. The two were veterans, their experience in countless raids evident in their composure. They turned toward the guild leaders — Charlotte, Natasha, and Mary Kaye , who stood together in a loose formation, their weapons ready, eyes reflecting both tension and resolve.
"What are our assignments?" Addison asked, scanning the ruined skyline.
Alexsei's gaze lingered on the cracked ground beneath their boots. "There are people down there?," he muttered, his voice low.
"Alive ones?."
" that's what Daniel mention, either we trust the information or not, but he never once lied about anything ,"
Charlotte nodded grimly. "Daniel confirmed it. The civilians , survivors of the earlier evacuation — are hiding beneath this district. There's an entire network of shelters right under our feet."
A tense silence rippled through the gathered guild members. The reality of what she said sank in — the people they thought were gone were right below them, depending entirely on their defense.
Then one of the scouts stepped forward, his armor still dusted with ash. "We all heard the announcement from the Tower," he said, his voice low but firm. "They changed the quest."
The air seemed to grow heavier. Everyone knew what that meant , new parameters, new consequences.
Charlotte turned toward them, her tone steady despite the fear pressing down on them. "We're not here to face the Holy Knights, nor that massive creature outside the walls. Let Daniel handle that." She took a slow breath, scanning every face in front of her. "Our purpose is clear , we defend this place. We hold the line. The civilians below are our responsibility now."
Her words were like steel striking steel , igniting sparks of courage among the weary fighters.
From the rear ranks, a voice rose , calm, but carrying the weight of a warrior's certainty. "We all know what will come if worst comes to worst," Alexsei muttered, chambering a round into his rifle. "If those demons pour out again into this battlefield—"
He didn't need to finish. The thought hung in the air like a curse.
"Then let them come!" Addison Lazarus's voice cut through the tension like thunder. She stepped forward, her crimson cloak snapping in the rising wind, her blade drawn and glowing faintly with radiant runes. "If hell wants this city, they'll have to crawl over our corpses first."
A murmur of approval spread among the guild ranks. Swords were raised. Staffs lit with arcane energy. Even the healers and support mages tightened their grips on their charms and relics.
Overhead, lightning flashed across the sky , illuminating the vast shadow of the floating garrison as it drifted closer to the heart of Karion. The screech of the monstrous centipede echoed from beyond the broken wall, and the air quaked with approaching doom.
Yet, within that chaos, the united guild stood firm , hundreds of warriors bound not by glory or reward, but by the duty to protect the living.
And as Addison turned her gaze toward Daniel , his form now a distant silhouette, surrounded by spinning spheres of light , she smirked faintly."Do your part, Daniel," she whispered under her breath. "We'll do ours."
That revelation sent a chill through the group. For weeks, they had believed the Third District to be long abandoned , a ghost sector sealed by military command. Now, realizing that hundreds of lives were buried beneath them changed everything.
Mary Kaye glanced toward Daniel's distant figure, his energy orbs still pulsing like stars around him. "He wants us to protect them," she said quietly. "No matter what happens up here."
Natasha frowned. "But the problem remains , how do we reach them? If we open a path, we might expose the shelters to enemy detection. If we don't, we risk trapping them when the fighting starts."
The ground trembled again, this time sharper , closer. The centipede's screech tore through the wind like a blade, followed by the echoing grind of metal from the floating garrison above. The sky itself was starting to pulse with unnatural color as demonic energy built in the distance.
Dust drifted down from the cracked rooftops as silence fell among the guild.
Addison looked around at the others, her eyes narrowing with grim understanding. "Then we'll do both," she said finally. "Natasha, Charlotte, Mary , keep the entrance sealed until Daniel gives the signal. Alexsei and I will scout for secondary exits. If the civilians need to move, they'll have a way out that won't expose them."
"Understood," Charlotte replied, gripping her sword tighter.
Beneath their feet, the faint sound of distant movement could be heard — muffled voices, the scraping of metal doors, the unmistakable rhythm of human life clinging to hope in the darkness.
And as Daniel raised his hand slightly, the orbs around him brightened, casting long shadows across the district. The message was clear: hold the line.
Because whatever was coming for them ,whether demon or beast , the true battle was not for survival alone, but for the lives beneath the ruins of Karion.
A ripple of soundless energy spread across the sky. Suddenly, the light of the knights' halos flickered. The sacred chants broke rhythm. Cracks of black fire began to slither through the air around them,
But something unexpected happened.
From high above the storm-lit sky, Holy Vicar Arnis Feldreldre raised his gilded staff, his voice echoing through divine channels that resonated even across the battlefield. Without hesitation or remorse, he issued the order that would unravel Daniel's entire strategy.
"Descend."
Moments later, enormous enchanted capsules broke through the clouds — burning streaks of light trailing behind them as they plummeted toward the earth. Each capsule, secured by layers of sanctified runes, slammed into the ground half a mile from the rampaging centipede with an earth-shaking impact.
Dust clouds rose.
Then, with a blinding flash, the seals on each capsule shattered.
Ten of them opened almost in unison, revealing twenty Holy Knights within each — radiant in silver and white, astride their warhorses clad in blessed armor. The knights charged as soon as the runes faded, forming brilliant lances of divine light that streaked across the battlefield toward Karion's battered gates.
Their timing was perfect. Their faith, absolute.
But their purity , corrupted.
The centipede, sensing their descent, screeched and turned its colossal body toward the capsules. Its eyes, a hundred glowing embers, locked onto the knights. The monster lunged forward, earth tearing apart beneath its weight.
Daniel's expression darkened. His Echo Prism orbs hovered midair, pulsing in incomplete rhythm — the purification sequence interrupted. The prism had not finished identifying the possessed among the knights, but it had confirmed one crucial thing:
Dozens among them were no longer human.
The demon's infection was spreading fast, hidden behind holy light.
Daniel clenched his fist. His carefully woven plan was unraveling, and chaos bloomed once more. He had no time to finish the extraction protocol — no time to isolate the host from the parasite.
The only choice left was containment.
He exhaled sharply, eyes flashing with voidlight. "So much for precision..." he muttered under his breath. "Then brute force will have to do."
Reaching into the rippling ether behind him, he sent a pulse through the Void — a summoning command only one being would answer.
"Melgil," Daniel called out, his tone calm yet edged with urgency. "I need your help."
A sultry, amused voice answered almost instantly, resonating through the void like silk laced with thunder.
"My beloved... what took you so long to ask me?"
A tear in space opened beside Daniel, its edges glowing violet and gold. From within, a hand adorned in silver rings emerged, followed by a figure draped in flowing black mist and crimson light.
"I was getting bored," Melgil purred, her eyes gleaming like twin stars. "That pest looks like a good warm-up before the real battle."
Daniel's voice softened, even amid the storm. "Don't kill it yet, my love."
She smiled ,a dangerous, tender smile that could charm gods and terrify devils alike.
"You called me, my love," she whispered, stepping fully into the mortal plane as her aura spread outward , heavy, divine, intoxicating. The air itself seemed to bow to her presence.
The knights hesitated for the briefest moment, their charge faltering as their instincts screamed of something ancient and wrong. Even the centipede recoiled, its countless eyes dilating in primal fear.
Melgil tilted her head, eyes glowing with delight.
"Let's make this interesting."
"By the covenant of the Endless Void,by the hunger that devours both gods and stars,I, Melgil Veara Gehinnom,relinquish restraint and cast aside my mortal shell."
"Oh chains of limitation, forged by mercy and bound by love,break before the eternal appetite that sleeps within me."
"Hear me, Void. Hear me, Flesh. Hear me, All-Consuming Sin"
"From the pit of Gehinnom I rise,from the womb of Gluttony I am reborn!"
"Feast upon the forbidden stars,drink deep the rivers of creation!"
"Unseal the seventh core!Release the devourer of realms!"
"Let my body ascend beyond size,my shadow eclipse the heavens,and my hunger… know no end!""
As her final words thundered through the battlefield, the air fractured like glass. A pillar of crimson flame erupted from beneath her feet, spiraling upward into the storm-choked sky. Her human shell melted away into molten light, revealing the true horror beneath , Melgil, the Demon Spider of Gluttony.
Her body expanded, rising into a towering, twenty-meter monstrosity of obsidian chitin veined with rivers of burning red fire. Eight colossal legs slammed into the ground, cracking the earth like thin ice. From her back unfurled twelve blazing wings — half web, half flame — shimmering with the hunger of dying stars. Her fanged maw split open in a shriek that devoured sound itself, and on her chest burned the Sigil of Gluttony, a swirling black spiral that drank in all light and hope around her.
Every breath she took warped reality, and even the Void trembled , for Melgil Veara Gehinnom, the Devourer of Worlds, had finally been unsealed.
The world trembled as Melgil took her first step onto the battlefield.The ground beneath her heels blackened, not from decay , but from the sheer density of her aura pressing against mortal reality. Her power wasn't chaos; it was elegance shaped into annihilation. The air rippled with each movement, bending around her form as if afraid to touch her.
Daniel extended his hand, and the void energy surrounding him shifted in response, the floating orbs reconfiguring themselves into orbit around Melgil like moons circling a sun. Where Daniel's power was cold and calculated , a symphony of balance and control , Melgil's was alive, instinctive, burning with emotion and beauty.
When their auras touched, the atmosphere fractured. For a heartbeat, the entire city of Karion saw it , the fusion of two opposing infinities. Light and shadow, void and passion, law and chaos, colliding and weaving together like strands of cosmic silk.
A shockwave burst outward, flattening the dust clouds and hurling the charging Holy Knights off their steeds. The centipede, a monstrosity spanning several city blocks, reeled backward. Its carapace cracked as the very concept of power began to suffocate it.
"So fragile," Melgil whispered, her voice carrying effortlessly over the roar of the storm.
She raised her hand. From her fingertips spiraled a chain of golden glyphs, each rune alive with celestial flame. Daniel followed her motion, feeding his Void resonance into her spell. The runes inverted , half golden, half black , forming a massive sigil that hung in the air like a fractured halo.
"Synchronization: Dual Core Initiation," Daniel commanded.
Their powers aligned.
Melgil's flames fed on Daniel's void light, and together they became a storm , a harmonic paradox. The sky above them split open, revealing the bleeding wound of another dimension. For miles around, mana pressure spiked so violently that the united guild's barrier flared to life on its own, barely holding together under the weight of godlike energy.
The centipede screeched, and the sound wasn't just noise , it was language.A cry of a Calamity-class being, one that had devoured continents in other eras.
Its body reared, hundreds of legs tearing into the ruined city as its head lunged forward, mouth wide enough to swallow towers. The heat of its breath melted the cobblestones into rivers of magma.
But before it could strike..
"Stay still, darling," Melgil murmured.
She vanished.
Reality blurred. In less than a second, she reappeared above the centipede's head, her body framed against the rift-lit sky. Her mana wings unfolded , enormous, crystalline structures of black and red glass stretching wider than the creature itself.
Daniel raised his hand beneath her, channeling the Void Stream. The orbs he had summoned earlier began to spin faster, each one connecting to Melgil through invisible filaments of energy.
"Power adjustment, Melgil, you're at 30% resonance!"
"Make it fifty," she replied with a smile. "I want it to feel this."
Her chaos mana ignited.
A beam of energy burst downward, but it wasn't fire, nor light — it was pure entropy. The centipede roared as its armored plates began to distort, its body twisting in agony. Yet even as it burned, demonic glyphs flared along its length, regenerating what was lost.
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "It's feeding off the rift. It's anchored."
He extended both hands and spoke a word that only the Void could understand. The energy around him folded inward, forming a geometric halo above his head , the Seal of Ten Dimensions.
"Then I'll cut its tether."
The battlefield became an impossible sight:
Far beyond the ruined outskirts of Karion, the thunder of hooves rolled across the plains like a coming storm. Two hundred Holy Knights of the Seraphic Order rode in perfect formation, their silver armor gleaming beneath the dawn's first light, their warhorses clad in blessed steel. Each knight carried a radiant spear tipped with sanctified runes the army of faith itself, marching toward a city in distress.
But halfway through the valley, the horizon changed.
A pulse of energy erupted from Karion , not light, not shadow, but something between both. The air buckled, rippling like the surface of a shattered mirror. The sky itself bent, twisting the clouds into a spiral of red and black. For a heartbeat, all sound vanished , no hoofbeats, no wind, no breath.
Then it came.
A wave of pressure slammed into them like the wrath of creation. The ground cracked open beneath the horses' hooves, and bolts of inverted lightning tore through the sky. Armor hummed and glowed from the overwhelming surge of energy. Every knight felt it , not as pain, but as divine terror.
"What in the name of the High Thrones?" one knight gasped, gripping his reins as his horse reared back.
From the front line, Commander Eldric Marrow raised his hand, shielding his eyes. His helm's visor reflected the apocalyptic glow far ahead , where Karion once stood.
In the distance, a pillar of light and darkness intertwined, rising high enough to pierce the heavens. It wasn't a storm. It was power incarnate , two calamity-class beings colliding.
"By the Seraph's grace…" Eldric whispered, his voice trembling. "That… that can't be human."
The radiance spread further, illuminating the eastern horizon. Even in the farthest provinces, fishermen along the coast paused as the sea shimmered with reflections of that light. The skies above the Eastern Wall turned red for a moment, as though day itself had been rewritten.
The youngest knight fell to his knees, spear clattering to the ground. "Sir… is the world ending?"
Eldric did not answer. His eyes were fixed on the heart of the storm , where Melgil, the Demon Spider of Gluttony, and Daniel, the Wielder of the Void Stream, fought in perfect, catastrophic harmony.
"Not the end," he finally said, his voice a whisper carried by the wind. "But the beginning of something greater… or far worse."
And as the light swallowed the horizon once more, the two hundred Holy Knights of the Seraphic Order could do nothing but watch , dwarfed by the battle of gods.
Melgil in the heavens, raining down divine entropy; Daniel below, anchoring her assault with void geometry that rewrote gravity itself. The centipede writhed between them like a living continent, every clash birthing sonic booms that shattered distant mountain ridges.
Reality itself began to ripple. The clouds no longer moved naturally — they bent, spiraling toward the vortex forming above Karion. Lightning turned crimson. Holy energy and demonic miasma tangled like twin storms colliding.
The united guild, sheltering below the third wall, could only watch as the sky turned into a canvas of gods at war.
Melgil's laughter echoed above the chaos. "A calamity, you called it? This is nothing but a toy, Daniel!"
Daniel's voice rumbled through the battlefield, calm and absolute. "Then break its will — but not its body. We still need to know what summoned it."
She winked, her voice carried on the wind.
"As you command, my love."
The heavens split apart.
A final surge of light and void descended as Melgil dove, her wings folding inward as she crashed into the centipede's skull. A wave of energy exploded outward a silent explosion that erased sound and color for a single, blinding instant.
When the light faded, the centipede lay motionless, half its body buried in molten stone. It wasn't dead , merely frozen, paralyzed by the fusion of divine and void energy.
Daniel lowered his hand, breathing out slowly.The Echo Prism orbs drifted beside him once more, now stable. Within their mirrored surfaces, demonic runes shimmered , evidence of corruption.
"The rift isn't fully open," he said quietly. "But someone is pushing it."
Melgil turned toward him, her mana like wings folding into the wind. "Then let's find who's bold enough to play gods in our world."