Rising god
Chapter 86: Darkan vs Silver IV

Chapter 86: Darkan vs Silver IV

The Silver patriarch’s brow furrowed as the air itself trembled, the Land of Fire domain pressing against his senses like a molten tide.

The sky blazed with an orange-red hue, heat distorting the horizon. Without a moment’s hesitation, he and his powerhouses unleashed their divine power, a counterforce to rival the inferno.

Their own domain erupted, a tempest of energy that churned the atmosphere, whipping winds into a frenzied dance to push back the encroaching flames.

The clash was cataclysmic, a battle of elements, fire against wind, chaos against order.

From the Darkan side, the domain mirrored the inner world of Lady Darkan, though smaller in scope.

Miniature volcanoes burst from the cracked earth, spewing rivers of lava that hissed and bubbled, painting the ground in glowing scars.

Heat waves rippled outward, a suffocating blanket that seared the lungs and blurred vision. The air smelled of sulfur and ash, a testament to the raw power of the Darkan pillars.

On the Silver side, a transformation unfolded. Intricate markings, swirling runes of their wind god bloomed on the foreheads of the patriarch and his elite, glowing a faint emerald.

The winds shifted, taking on a vibrant green hue, flowing with an eerie calm that belied its strength.

As the marks pulsed, a torrent of wind surged from an unseen source, a divine gift that howled through the battlefield, ready to tear through flesh and flame alike.

The Silvers wasted no time, launching the first strike.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A deafening explosion rocked the world, a blast so immense it halted the war for a breathless moment.

Soldiers on both sides craned their necks, eyes wide, searching for the source. The sky was a tapestry of destruction, blanketed by a shockwave that rattled bones and sent residue energy rippling outward, forcing warriors to retreat.

The ground quaked, fissures snaking through the dirt, and the air buzzed with chaotic power.

This was no fight for the rank and file; they scattered, clearing the stage for the titans to clash.

Within the dual domains, the Darkan pillars transformed, their draconic forms shifting into half-dragon hybrids, humanoid yet scaled, clawed hands gripping their weapons. The Darkan head, clutched the Greatsword Heirloom, and it’s etched runes now roared to life, its sound a guttural bellow, as if awakening from a long slumber.

His armor blazed, flames licking across its surface, casting him as a living pyre. He stretched the greatsword forward, its twin dragon-head pommels flashing crimson as a massive dragon breath formed, a swirling orb of fire, larger and fiercer than any he’d unleashed at the Last Front.

With a roar, he released it, the blast scorching the air as it hurtled toward the Silvers.

The Silvers reacted swiftly, conjuring a shimmering barrier of green wind, a wall of compressed air that hummed with divine energy.

It trembled under the dragon breath’s impact, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface, but it held. The pillars charged, their weapons gleaming all amplified by the fiery domain around them.

Movements blurred at the speed of light, slicing through the sky, each strike birthing explosions that never ceased, a symphony of destruction.

The Silvers countered with ultimate skills, wind blades sharp enough to cleave stone, while the Darkans unleashed torrents of flame and molten energy, the domains clashing in a storm of light and sound.

Below, the eight 7th star commanders and their subordinates of the Silver army faced a new threat. Tasha, the mature ruby-scaled dragon, and the Red Fang, the elite of the Darkans, descended upon them.

The Red Fang numbered only 200, the smallest squad, yet their power was unmatched. The weakest teetered on the cusp of 6th star, while the strongest was a mature dragon.

Their sky formation was a marvel, dragons and non-dragons weaving seamlessly, scales glinting like bloodied armor, tough enough to shrug off 7th star attacks. They pressed this advantage, raining lightning-laced dragon breaths and maelstroms of fire that consumed the Silver’s wind, the heat so intense it warped the air into shimmering mirages.

They hadn’t forgotten Baines’ tricks in war.

However still, the Silvers refused to yield. Unfortunately for them, the blood division they had started the war for were failing in their tasks.

Desperate, they threw themselves into the fray, hoping for the mysterious force that had once stripped mana and aura from foes but It never came. Their bodies burned under dragon fire, flesh reattaching in grotesque cycles, twisted by spiritual energy into forms both pitiful and horrifying, limbs elongated, skin blistered and blackened, eyes wild with pain. Blood had met it’s worst enemy, concentrated fire. The anticipated blood army dissolved, lost to the echoes and turbulence of war.

On the ground, soldiers neither of Darkan nor Silver blood fought in relative safety.

Typically, the earth was the deadliest arena, but here, ironically, the sky was a maelstrom of death, fire and wind clashing above.

The Darkan divisions, varied in skill and strength, struggled. They were losing ground, their lines buckling under the Silver assault.

"Attack!" a fat 6th star commander bellowed, his voice strained as his subordinates fell, cleaved by Silver blades.

Sweat beaded on his flabby brow, his armor tight against a frame softened by years of excess. ’Shit, I should run,’ he thought, panic clawing at his chest.

One would ask, how had a 6th star fallen so low? Well, decades of peace had dulled him, and had gotten conceited.

A 5th star could topple him now. And he wasn’t alone in this. Other division leaders exchanged nervous glances, their courage crumbling.

"Division leader, we need help!" a vice leader shouted, his plea cut short as his body crumpled, blood pooling beneath him.

A Silver warrior loomed, eyes and sword glowing with menace. The division leader froze, his heart pounding, as the enemy raised a blade to end him.

"Heaven’s pledge!" A golden pressure slammed down, a radiant force that made the Silver’s body quiver, his sword veering to strike the source.

Aires descended on the battlefield.

His dark hair whipping in the wind, his blade aglow with sun energy. He muttered,

"Heaven’s falling steps," and blurred forward, arriving beneath the foe in an instant.

Clang!

Steel met steel, sparks flying. "Who are you?" the Silver commander growled, straining against the golden weight.

"Aires Perseus, and I am here for justice," Aires replied, his movements graceful, fluid, a dance of precision.

He dodged a blade by a hair’s breadth as another commander joined, a second 6th star. Aires exhaled, eyes scanning his foes. ’If I hadn’t taken that sun pill, I’d be dead,’ he thought. The pill had elevated him to mid-6th star, a golden warmth fueling his strikes against these high-tier foes.

"Ah, thank you!" Darkan soldiers cheered, their voices rising. With the monstrous pillars and commanders occupied, they could fight evenly, though their division leaders stood like statues, paralyzed by fear.

It dawned on these bloated commanders that they couldn’t track the battle, their high 6th star rank meaningless against such speed.

Aires readied his sword, eying the last two six stars watching from a distance.

Whooosh...

A silent wind stirred from the back, and—

Thud... Thud... Thud...—three heads rolled.

The Darkans turned, stunned, to see their division leaders slain, blood pooling beneath them.

A beautiful woman with silver hair stood, her long blade dripping crimson as her teeth gritted in fury. "How dare you bastards?"

The Silvers erupted in joy.

"Ah, young lady!"

"The young lady is here!"

Slyva Silver, the eldest child of the patriarch, had arrived and she currently released aura that of 7th star.

Her gaze locked on Aires who was focused on fight, and with a casual swipe, her blade sang, beheading a swath of Darkan soldiers.

The survivors fled, only to run into the waiting Silver ranks.

...

"Phew..." Aires exhaled, chest heaving as the second commander fell, his body charred by pure sun energy radiating from Aires’ core. He turned, but his face fell as a figure approached with deliberate footsteps.

"You, you’re quite good. But why are you here?" Slyva’s voice was calm, curious, her silver hair glinting in the firelight.

"What do you mean?" Aires replied, shifting into a stance, blade ready to pounce.

"You’re clearly using sun energy, but the agreement was for non-imperials to join," she said, tilting her head in confusion.

"I won it," Aires stated, his voice clear, dispelling any misunderstanding.

"You won it?" Slyva murmured, puzzled, then pressed on. "Before I kill you, I must ask. Did you think you’d win?"

Aires frowned. "I don’t understand. It was you who waged this war."

"Yes, we did," Slyva nodded, her tone steady. "Forget that we did. The Darkan’s new power was shocking, honestly, any army would’ve struggled or even lost..." her voice trailed and she continued, "But what do you think happens when an apostle uses their power?"

At that moment, the divine energy of the Silvers shifted, and a regal weight flooded the air. The whipping green winds turned majestic, blessing the Silvers with authority and power that thickened the atmosphere.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM...

KAAHHHHHHHHH...

At that moment, thunderous explosion tore through the sky and with a sorrowful cry, one of the Darkan pillars plummeted from the sky.

They battle stopped once more.

A hundred meter dragon falling. His body turned lifeless before it hit the ground.

It suddenly blared warnings into Aires. This was what happened when an apostle used their divine power.

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