Chapter 1226 Phaneron
Chapter 1226 Phaneron
The gate covered the sky, from the far and crumbled magic tower to the rivers around the city. It cast a giant shadow over the world, turning light to darkness.
Marius created this gate from his elements, capable of withstanding the spatial pressure of the cosmos and durable enough for a god to descend.
Kael Firebrand supplied the gate with abundant mana, even using his blood as tribute. The gate began glowing as he tried to push the gate open, and a crushing presence descended on Yalenia.
'Arthur!' called Lucian in his mind, making Arthur turn to look at him at the far hill. 'I have seen what's coming from that gate! I don't think we can handle it!'
In response to his fear, Arthur simply grinned. Lucian looked at him as if he had gone mad, but Arthur had no plans of running.
'You might die!'
'I cannot die, Lucian. I have someone waiting for me,' said Arthur with a grin. 'After I'm done here, I will take a long vacation from fighting and rest.'
Arthur meant every word as he stared at the sky. This will be his last battle for a long time, and he couldn't wait to see Dia again. This battle was delaying him from where he wanted to be.
"But I will take you down as you come," said Arthur as he waved his dagger, unleashing a storm that shook the city. "As long as you step into my world, I will greet you."
His booming voice shook the heavens, and the empyreans began opening the gate. A golden mist burst from the gate as figures began pouring from them. Arthur saw the newcomers as the Divine Army, angels with white wings and metallic masks covering their eyes entirely.
The army numbered in the thousands, each at the level of astra-rankers. In reference, the entire kingdom of Yalen used to have no more than five astra-rankers, two later defecting to Arthur's side.
The world began to change as these angels poured out from the gate. Mana filled the surroundings, making it harder to breathe. Their gathering in this place started to restructure the world.
Arthur felt a mixture of anticipation and annoyance. "I am almost tempted to applaud your dramatic entrance," he jeered, his voice thundering across the now-stilled battlefield. The Divine Army paused, their metallic masks glinting under the newly darkened sky.
Marius, still wielding his elemental powers to maintain the gate, replied with a solemn tone. "This isn't about theatrics, Arthur. This is about survival—our survival and the many worlds under the celestial firmament."
Arthur scoffed, brushing a strand of his black hair away from his face. "Survival, you say?" He stepped forward, the ground beneath him cracking with the force of his wrath. "You invoke the might of an army, yet talk of survival. To me, it sounds more like a last desperate clawing at life."
The air around them thickened as the angels aligned into formation, their presence altering the very essence of the world. Kael, now barely holding onto his physical form, muttered through labored breaths, "You don't understand, Arthur. This isn't just about combating your strength. It's about restoring balance that you've so carelessly disrupted."
Arthur's eyes glinted with amusement and a hint of undisguised contempt. "Balance? You speak of balance when you summon an army capable of rending worlds?" He waved his hand dismissively, his dagger gleaming with an ominous light. "No, this is fear. And fear leads you to gamble with the cosmos as your stake."
Elysia emerged from the astral realm, her voice calm yet carrying an edge of urgency. "It's not merely fear, Arthur. Consider it a necessity. Your power threatens the very fabric of existence. This army," she gestured towards the celestial beings now circling above, "is our answer to your unchecked might."
As the tension escalated, the skies above roared with the power of colliding forces. Lucian, observing from a distance, felt a shiver of dread. 'Arthur, this is madness. Their power... It's unlike anything we've faced.'
Arthur turned slightly to catch Lucian's gaze, his expression unreadable. 'Fear not, Lucian. This is the crescendo of our symphony, the peak of our trials. After this, it's either eternal peace or eternal silence.'
With a flourish, Arthur raised his dagger high, the storm intensifying around him. "Come then, Divine Army! Show me the might of your so-called gods. Show me if you can quench the flames of my wrath with your celestial tears."
The angels advanced, their wings beating in unison, creating gusts of wind that howled like ancient spirits. Each of them radiated a power that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, yet Arthur stood undaunted, his laugh echoing across the battlefield as he prepared to meet them head-on.
"This world, my world, will not bow to celestial invaders," Arthur proclaimed, his voice booming louder than the thunder above. "Today, we write the end of this saga, whether it be with my victory or my demise. But know this," his eyes narrowed as the first of the angels swooped down towards him, "I am Arthur Netherborne, and I do not yield."
Arthur's black lightning crackled through the air, a dark symphony accompanying his relentless assault. Each bolt he unleashed was a tangible expression of his wrath, striking down angel after angel with ruthless precision. The wrathful souls, manifestations of his deepest fury, swirled around him like a storm, attacking any celestial being that dared approach.
Despite his formidable power, the angels continued to pour forth from the gate, an unending stream of divine soldiers intent on overwhelming him. The golden mist from the gate thickened, signaling the imminent arrival of their god, and the urgency of the situation fueled Arthur's ferocity.
He moved like a shadow across the battlefield, his dagger slashing through the ranks of the angels. Each swing released bursts of dark energy, rending through the celestial armor as if it were mere cloth. The angels retaliated with weapons forged from celestial light, their strikes aimed with divine precision, but Arthur's agility kept him steps ahead, his form barely a blur to the mortal eye.
"Is this all you have?" Arthur roared over the clamor of battle. "I expected a challenge worthy of the gods!"
With a fierce gesture, he summoned a massive wave of wrathful souls, sending them crashing like a tidal wave against the front lines of the Divine Army. The impact was devastating, scattering the angels and momentarily stemming their advance. However, as the fallen were swept away, more took their place, their numbers seemingly inexhaustible.
Arthur glanced towards the gate, the pulsing golden light growing stronger, a sign that the celestial god was about to make their descent. Time was running out, and he knew he had to end this quickly if he was to face the god with any hope of victory.
With a defiant cry, Arthur unleashed his most powerful technique yet. Black lightning surged from his body in all directions, a starburst of dark energy that illuminated the battlefield with its eerie glow. The wrathful souls merged into the lightning, their screams of fury enhancing its destructive power.
The angels, though resilient, could not withstand this onslaught. Many were struck down, their celestial armor shattered by the sheer intensity of Arthur's attack. But as he fought, Arthur noticed that the stream of angels was not diminishing; they were still pouring out of the gate in great numbers, as if the very heavens were emptying.
As Arthur launched another wave of his signature black lightning, infused with the fury of wrathful souls, the relentless army of angels seemed endless. The sky above glowed intensely, signaling the moment Arthur both anticipated and feared—the arrival of their god.
As the relentless army of angels poured forth from the gate, the sky darkened, heralding the arrival of a new divine entity. Silence swept over the battlefield as a towering figure emerged from the glowing portal, emanating an aura that commanded both awe and reverence.
This god, with a stature both imposing and serene, stood adorned in a robe that seemed to ripple with the ethereal flow of souls. His visage was calm yet inscrutable, framed by long, silver hair that floated around him as if underwater. His eyes, deep pools of midnight blue, seemed to reflect the vastness of the cosmos.
He spoke, and his voice resonated with a profound mellowness that felt like the echo of eternity itself. "I am Phaneron, the Arbiter of Souls. My domain is the eternal dance of souls across the universe, from birth to rebirth."
Around him swirled faint lights, each representing a soul in transit, their movements orchestrated by his will. With a mere wave of his hand, these lights shifted, following unseen currents that only he could command.
"Arthur Netherborne," Phaneron addressed him directly, his tone imbued with a timeless wisdom. "Your actions have stirred the very essence of existence, disrupting the sacred pathways of souls. This cannot go unchallenged."
Arthur, undaunted by the god's imposing presence, tightened his grip on his dagger. Despite the stakes, his determination did not waver.
Phaneron continued, "Consider the consequences of your defiance. The fabric of the cosmos is delicate, balanced by the movements of souls. Your fight is not merely against me but against the natural order itself."