Rising god
Chapter 89: Darkan vs Silver VII

Chapter 89: Darkan vs Silver VII

The battlefield froze in a moment of unearthly dread, as if the world itself held its breath. The air crackled with an oppressive force, a presence so vast it crushed the spirits of all who stood beneath it.

The clash between the Darkan pillars and the Silver powerhouses, once a symphony of fire and wind, halted abruptly. Warriors on both sides staggered, their knees buckling under an invisible weight. Those closest to the epicenter, where the being emerged, clutched their chests, blood seeping from their sense organs as internal injuries ravaged their bodies.

Even the two adult dragons flanking the Darkan pillars, their scales gleaming like molten obsidian, faltered. Their massive forms swayed, wings trembling, as they collapsed under the pressure, their roars reduced to pained whimpers. The being’s voice, a cacophony of countless voices woven into one, tore through the air like a divine edict.

["Insolence."]

The word reverberated, shattering eardrums and splintering resolve. The world seemed to empty, stripped of sound, light, and hope. Allies and enemies alike crumpled, some crushed to death by the sheer force of the being’s presence.

In a single moment, it had wrought more destruction than the entire battle combined.

In the corner of the battlefield, Baines felt his knees crack under the weight. His body trembled as the ground caved beneath him.

"Master!" Wick materialized beside him, his form radiating power. With a defiant roar, Wick unleashed his full strength.

Domain: Ashentel.

The air shimmered, tinged violet as Wick’s domain expanded, a desperate bulwark against the crushing pressure. The world seemed to shift, the violet energy pushing back against the void, but it was like a candle flickering against a storm. It wasn’t enough.

["Hmm?"]

The being’s gaze turned toward them, its eyes like twin voids. With a single flap of its wings, it crossed the distance in an instant, looming over Baines.

"Kurghh..." Baines groaned, the pressure intensifying tenfold. His heart core erupted within him. Ashenfall surged skyward, and the violet blaze flared in defiance, but it wasn’t enough. Blood gushed from his wounds, cloaking him in a crimson shroud.

Blood Palace.

A spectral gazebo materialized around him, and blood spilled uncontrollably out of him, and a blood moon hung ominously in the sky. Yet even this ancient technique faltered, crumbling under the being’s presence.

["You, what is that power?"]

The being intoned, its voice laced with curiosity and unease. Though Baines’s power was insignificant in its current state, its potential sent a tremor through the being’s essence.

Baines couldn’t respond. His body screamed in protest, his vision darkening as pain consumed him.

The being, unperturbed, extended a hand.

["Then, I’ll just take it instead."]

The world turned upside down as he was only hanging on the thread of losing himself.

Wick threw himself in front of Baines, his form blazing with violet energy, but he crumbled like ash before the being’s power. Then the full weight of its presence descended on Baines, his bones, the remnants of the slave god creaked and splintered.

’FUCK....NO, NO, NO....’, he roared inwardly. He was unwilling. He had just reunited with his brother, found a spark of hope after years of despair, and he was about to die. Before, might have accepted, but not now, when there was hope.

His Ashenfall flared with unprecedented intensity, a violet inferno that lashed out like a living entity, clinging to the being in a desperate attempt to repel it. The being, undeterred, reached for Baines’s chest, its fingers inches from tearing out his heart core.

...

In a very distant location, this place was experiencing the same effect it had before. The whole land trembled violently, and pulsed more energy out of the land.

Up the mountain, deep inside the open throne room, a statue of a violet refined body, and a core of deep violet at its chest, sat in deep meditation.

At that moment, its eyes flashed open.

The next moment, a tear was seen through the veil.

The statue had disappeared.

...

["Such power"]

As the being was caressing his chest, just before ripping it through his chest,

CRACK...

The loud sound shattered the silence. The being’s head snapped upward, its eyes narrowing to pinholes.

["What?"]

Just who was powerful enough to breach its influence on the world?

In an instant, the oppressive void vanished, replaced by a surge of violet energy that flooded the battlefield. The being’s gaze trembled as it sensed the power, the perfected form of the potential it had glimpsed in Baines.

Floating above was a statue, its body sculpted from flawless purple stone, a deep violet core pulsing at its chest. Clad in a simple robe, it radiated an aura that dwarfed even the being’s presence. It was the same statue that disappeared from the previous open throne room.

Baines’s consciousness flickered, his last thought a bewildered ’What?’ as he collapsed.

...

When Baines’s eyes snapped open, he jolted to his feet, his heart pounding as he looked around.

’What happened?’ The battlefield was currently unrecognizable. The being was gone, as was the Silver apostle who had led the enemy’s charge. The ground was scarred with lacerations thousands of meters deep, as if a god had clawed the earth itself. The air felt heavy, as though it had been absent and only now returned in its full force.

Wick stood beside him, unscathed, his aura blazing that of an 8th star, without even unleashing his Ashenfall.

"Wick, what happened?" Baines demanded, his voice hoarse.

The change was too stark, too incomprehensible to ignore.

Wick’s eyes, usually stoic, gleamed with an unreadable emotion. "The ..."

...

Across the valley, the tide of battle had shifted dramatically. The Silver powerhouses, bolstered by a sudden surge of divine power, pressed their advantage with ruthless precision. The Darkan Head, once a towering figure of dominance, now fought for survival. His scales were now indistinguishable from the blood coating them and gleamed dully as he morphed back into his dragon form, using his body to shield his soldiers. The surviving elder, equally battered, followed suit, their hard scales a desperate defense against the Silver onslaught.

Tasha, the Darkan commander on the second battlefield, stood amidst the chaos, her heart heavy with each ally’s death. The Silvers’ divine attacks rained down, relentless and precise, forcing her to rely on the Red Fangs, who sacrificed themselves to protect her.

Each loss was a scar on her soul, but she pushed on. It made her think for a moment, if they had listened and guided the beasts here, would any of this have happened? Because this wasn’t the first time Baines had said something and because they didn’t listen, it came back to bite them.

The Silvers showed no mercy, their attacks fueled by the knowledge that their divine power was fleeting. The Darkans fell in droves, their roars drowned out by the howling wind.

On the ground, Aires also faced his own reckoning.

As a Silver blade arced toward his neck, he braced for death, and he did.

’Hah, so I died,’ he thought, his vision blurring. But instead of oblivion, he found himself in a golden temple, white clouds swirling around an empty throne. Before him stood a towering statue of a goddess, its form radiating serenity.

’Where am I?’ Aires wondered.

The moment he had that thought, he shielded his eyes as the statue glowed with blinding light.

When he lowered his hand, he was back on the battlefield, and Slyva Silver stared at him in disbelief.

"Huh? You’re still alive?" she muttered, her blade frozen mid-swing.

Aires, equally confused, had no time to respond as his body glowed.

At that moment, a terrifying wave swept the battlefield, followed by a resounding,

CRACK... SHATTER.

The sound, like glass breaking across the heavens, echoed through the realms.

And its effect was immediate.

The Silvers suddenly staggered as their divine power and authority over wind dissolved like dust. As their divine power was stripped from them, deep in them, they all suddenly felt a certain loss.

Shock etched their faces as they grappled with the truth, but it couldn’t be what they were thinking, right?

It wasn’t possible for their god to be dead... right?