Rising god
Chapter 90: Darkan vs Silver (Last)

Chapter 90: Darkan vs Silver (Last)

When a god was forgotten, it meant the believers were no more but the god was still alive. Howe what of when the god itself died?

The sky bled crimson as the Silver army plummeted, their wyverns spiraling helplessly without the divine wind to sustain them. Like broken kites, they crashed into the scarred earth, their once-mighty formations reduced to chaos.

The Darkans, moments ago teetering on the brink of annihilation, stood frozen, their gazes locked on the falling enemy. The sudden reversal was incomprehensible.

"What... what happened?" a Darkan soldier whispered, his voice trembling. But the Darkan Head, his scales slick with blood, wasted no time on questions. His eyes blazed with fury and resolve, his greatsword still smoldering from the battle.

"ATTACK! KILL THEM!" he roared, his voice a thunderclap that shattered the stupor gripping his forces.

The Darkans surged forward, their draconic forms weaving through the air, fire and fang bared. The Silvers, still reeling from the loss of their divine power, were like lambs before wolves. Their shock wasn’t just fleeting, it was existential, as if their very purpose had been stripped away.

The Darkan Head and the surviving elder, their bodies battered but unyielding, opened their maws. Twin torrents of dragon breath erupted, a molten inferno that engulfed Lurnel Silver and his powerhouses. Without their wind domain, Lurnel could only channel raw aura to form a simple domain, which was a pale shadow of his former might. The flames overwhelmed him, the explosion’s roar drowning out his scream.

"Guhhh..." Lurnel staggered, his vision clearing to reveal a horrific sight. The two powerhouses stood before him, their bodies charred to blackened husks, their sacrifice the only reason he still breathed.

Rage and despair twisted Lurnel’s features. "FUCK!" he bellowed, his voice cracking as he burned his lifeforce. His aura exploded, a desperate surge of power, and he lunged at the Darkan Head, the Tempest Blade gleaming with reckless fury.

"Arghhh!" Lurnel roared, madness consuming him as he charged.

"PATRIARCH!" One of the charred powerhouses screamed for him to stop.

But he didn’t see the dragon elder’s maw swinging from the side, jaws wide and merciless.

CHOM... CRUNCH.

The battlefield fell silent, the Silvers’ gasps echoing as their patriarch’s body vanished into the elder’s jaws. Lurnel’s powerhouses collapsed, their legs gave out as the last shred of their spirit broke.

They didn’t last long. The Darkan Head’s claws tore through them, their charred forms crumbling into ash.

ROARRRRRRRR...

The Darkan Head unleashed a triumphant bellow, blood dripping from his maw, painting his red scales a deeper crimson. He looked like a demon dragon, a nightmare born of fire and wrath. With the elder at his side, he turned to aid the rest of his forces, their roars shaking the heavens.

On the second battlefield, Tasha’s eyes burned with vengeance. The Silver soldiers, once relentless, now screamed as she tore through them, her flames consuming flesh and bone. Some she devoured, her draconic jaws snapping shut with grim finality. The surviving forces in Red Fang joined the slaughter, their blades and claws drenched in blood. The air was thick with the Silvers’ cries and blood.

On the ground, Aires gripped his sword as a newfound power coursed through him. Golden light radiated from his body, and he nodded in understanding. This was a divine aura that marked him as an apostle of a god. He didn’t know how, but he just knew.

Wasn’t it ironic, as one lost their god, another gained one?

He raised his blade, and swords of light materialized around him, hovering like celestial sentinels. His sword glowed, and he unleashed a barrage of radiant beams at Slyva Silver, still dazed by her god’s demise.

"What the hell happened?" Slyva muttered, snapping back to reality as she dodged the blinding light. The beams were impossibly fast, flickering like they were phasing in and out of existence.

Aires moved, his feet echoing with a resonant dong, ’Heaven’s Echo Steps.’ His body shimmered with light as he closed the distance, his blade arcing toward her.

’This isn’t good,’ Slyva’s heart sank. Without her wind domain, she was left with only astral energy and physical prowess, and Aires’s divine light compensated for his domain power, leaving her at a disadvantage in physical abilities.

She parried desperately, her movements sluggish compared to his radiant assault.

ROAAARRR...

At that moment, the distant roars of dragons echoed from the valley’s far side, growing louder.

The Darkans turned, their eyes widening. They had planned to finish and help them, yet they were the ones helping. And at the forefront, Baines stood, his sword gripped, ready to fight.

At that moment, a thought occurred to everyone: what if their advantage was also something he had done? The morale of the Darkans reached a feverish pitch.

Slyva froze, her eyes locked on the approaching dragons, and that moment of hesitation cost her.

Shng.

Her hand fell to the ground, severed by Aires’s blade. A scream tore from her throat, pain and shock overwhelming her. Aires didn’t relent. Light swords rained down, relentless and precise, until her head rolled across the dirt with a dull thud.

"AHHHHHHH!" Aires roared, collapsing to his knees, his cry a mix of triumph, grief, and exhaustion. The golden light around him pulsed, a beacon of his newfound divinity.

From the sky, Baines descended, his Burst technique decimating the Silver ranks. His mind reeled from Wick’s revelation:

-The wind god was killed.

The idea was staggering. Even at the moment, with the proper procedures, the slave god and dark sun could be revived. But he quickly accepted the possibility. If he could kill a god, that made it perfect. Some gods were on his list.

"For now, this war is over," he muttered, landing amidst the chaos. His gaze scanned the battlefield and sighted Aires surrounded in golden light.

’Divine power,’ He muttered and joined to help cleave the enemies. ’Which god does he serve?’

-So, Wick, how did you form?.

He remembered seeing Wick dispersing as its core had shattered.

-That statue created a new core and formed me back.

Wick said, but kept the last part.

Protect. Him. Well

Those were the words the statue left, and it vowed to perform a better job than before. He wouldn’t apologize for the past, as he knew Baines wasn’t even thinking about it again. But next time, he would just do better. That was the best form of apology.

Of course, Baines was already thinking ahead.

’I don’t know how the situation would unfold, but I should do this first.’ After a while of thinking,

-Wick, I want you to go to the Silver’s main estate, chain every Silver member, and take everything.

Baines’s eyes flashed with intensity as he emphasized the word ’Everything’.

-Yes master

Wick responded without delay and disappeared.

Baines glanced at the scrambling Silver remnants. Their god, patriarch, commanders, and wyverns were gone; their will to fight had been extinguished. "I almost died for you," he muttered. "You’ll pay for that."

Cheers erupted among the Darkans, their roars echoing across the valley. Dragons soared overhead, their cries an anthem of victory.

In decades, this was their most brutal war, and they had emerged triumphant.

The Darkan Head, his body swathed in bandages, stood tall despite his injuries. His wife fussed over him, but he raised a clawed hand. "GATHER THE DEAD, LOOT THE ENEMIES, AND BURN THEIR BODIES!" he bellowed. "AFTER THAT, WE MARCH TO THEIR CAPITAL TO CLAIM THEIR CITY!"

The cheers intensified, a tidal wave of jubilation. Surviving Silvers were bound in chains, the injured Darkans treated, and the dead solemnly gathered. A count of the living, dead, and missing began, as a grim tally of the war’s cost.

In the largest tent, the commanders convened, and their numbers were starkly reduced. Visibly lower than before. The Darkan Head, his voice heavy, spoke. "We’ve won." His gaze softened as it fell on Baines. "Once again, it was thanks to you. When we return, we’ll discuss rewards. Well done, everyone. But for now, we still have work to do."

...

Deep in the Vodal kingdom, a palace the size of several mansions was built. This palace was so beautiful, the Tyrell manor didn’t compare. The air seemed to twist at times, or space warped.

It was the capital of the Vodal kingdom and the palace of the Astra family. Beneath the palace, in a subterranean chamber, seven pillars pulsed with the energies of the kingdom’s god-serving houses.

Aged figures stood underneath their pillars representing their gods, and unless it was time for the war, these people never saw the daylight.

However, today something strange happened.

On the pillar for wind, its wisps suddenly snuffed out.

The aged figures before it snapped their eyes open. The divine power in their body, they had spent decades accumulating, dispersed like the wind.

The other guardians stirred, their faces etched with shock.

What was this exactly supposed to mean?

A god, dead? The implications were unthinkable.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.