The Guardian gods
Chapter 337

Chapter 337: 337

The pack watched as Korak summoned his ice magic, drawing moisture from the atmosphere around them. His movements were slow at first, deliberate, as he condensed the moisture into small patches of frost in midair. Gradually, these patches grew into solid plates of ice, connected by shimmering bridges.

"We’re not leaping like the Mermen, and we’re not flowing like the Ripple Clan," Korak explained, his voice steady and determined. "We’ll run through the sky on a highway of ice."

The pack members grinned, their fangs gleaming. This was the kind of bold, reckless strategy they thrived on.

"Now!" Korak barked, and the werewolves sprang into action. With a roar, Korak leaped forward, landing on the first plate of ice he had created. The moment his feet touched it, more ice shot out ahead, forming a bridge from one floating island to another. It wasn’t just a path—Korak was building a road made entirely of ice, reinforced with the werewolves’ elemental magic. As each wolf landed on the frozen surface, the ice crackled and expanded, growing beneath their feet as they dashed forward.

Meanwhile, in the front, you would think the Harpies or the Zephyr Clan would have reached the flag by now. But surprisingly, neither had gotten close.

Just like everyone else, they were also surprised at their progress. This all stems from the fact that they had turned the Sky Zone into an even more hostile environment than the Earth Zone before it.

Those further back hadn’t yet noticed the changes, but as they got closer, they would. Now, back to the startled godlings—both the Harpies and the Zephyr Clan were used to combat and using their abilities to fight. However, this was the first time they were forced to use their powers for something other than combat.

As for the members of the Zephyr Clan, they had always considered themselves the weakest of all the Apeling clans. All they had was wind, which made them faster or sharper when cutting something down. Only their leader, Zephyr, had shown a wider range of abilities, such as pulling the breath from someone’s lungs, leaving them dead, or creating a bubble with no air and altering the weather. While these were abilities most in the clan could only dream of mastering at higher stages, Large weather manipulation was thought impossible for any Zephyr clan member aside from their leader.

In the Earth Zone, to keep the Harpies from getting ahead, the Zephyr Clan had been forced to improvise. The only solution they could come up with to hinder the Harpies’ flight was to create an environment so hostile it would disrupt their wings.

It was a challenge, but when the whole team worked together, it became easier. Their grandfather and god, Ikenga, had left them a great gift: from birth, the wind element had always loved them. They couldn’t imagine life without that connection, and for that reason, they respected the ordinary Apelings, who worked hard despite lacking this gift. This sentiment was shared by all the cursed clans.

Their surprise grew even more in the Sky Zone, which was brimming with wind energy. It seemed like an advantage, but they weren’t the only ones loved by the wind. The Harpies, descendants of Crepuscular, the god of the sun and sky, also had a deep connection with the wind.

Both felt at home in the sky, and both tried to hinder each other from reaching the flag. But instead of gaining the upper hand, they had inadvertently created an even harsher situation than in the Earth Zone.

The Harpies were equally taken aback. As one of the oldest races of the godlings with their powerful background, they had rarely been pushed to their limits. Like the Zephyr Clan, they too got carried away.

It started with the Harpies gaining speed, only to be thrown off course by the Zephyr Clan’s winds. In retaliation, the Harpies hurled lightning bolts, and those among them attuned to flames cast fire at the Apelings.

Soon, it escalated. The Harpies seized control of the surrounding clouds, creating a small storm to block the Zephyr Clan while they attempted to get ahead. The Zephyr Clan, seeing this, shrank the winds into a whirlwind, disrupting the storm.

They slowly were using their mana disrupting the flow of elements in the sky. They were slowly using their mana, disrupting the natural flow of the elements in the sky. Unknown to them, they were making a grave mistake. Even the birds that occasionally tried to interfere with them began to retreat, sensing the growing imbalance. The godlings’ manipulation of the surrounding elements only worsened, and the elemental spirits themselves became excited by the reckless usage.

The blend of mana signatures from both godling races started to merge, and soon it spiraled out of their control. The elements grew overly excited, feeding off each other. By the time the godlings realized what was happening, it was too late. The once white clouds had turned dark, and the sun had disappeared from view. The only light now came from thick bolts of lightning that struck randomly, illuminating the ominous sky.

Had Ikenga been watching, he would have immediately recognized that the two godling races had created something akin to a turbulence—or perhaps something even worse. No longer focused on fighting each other, both groups now struggled to maneuver through the chaotic environment they had unintentionally created while still heading for the flag.

The ones faring the worst were the Apeling students, who had been competing with the two godling races. Though their bird forms had kept them in the race for a while, the increasing intensity of the storm made it nearly impossible to continue. Eventually, they gave up and found an island to land on, hoping to wait out the storm.

As they rested, a sound caught their attention. They saw three Sharkmen leaping from island to island, moving at an impressive speed. Soon, the Sharkmen landed on the same island as the Apeling students.

The Sharkmen leader, surprised by the chaotic state of the sky, surveyed the scene. "Those flying fools must have gotten the elements too excited," he muttered to his teammates.

As a race accustomed to living in harmony with their elements, the Sharkmen recognized the current state of the Sky Zone. This kind of turbulence occurred in their underwater kingdom from time to time.

Raindrops fell heavily on them, and their bodies shrank slightly under the deluge. They looked toward the distant island where the flag stood, now questioning whether they should proceed or not.

The Sharkmen leader turned to his teammates. "Do we continue or stop here?" he asked, noticing the hesitation in their eyes.

"We’ve pushed ourselves this far, but going any further might just be testing our luck," one of them said. "We might not make it to the flag, and we could end up falling out of the competition."

The leader nodded in agreement and glanced at the Apeling students. "They probably think the same. The flag on this island is now a battle between the Harpies and the Zephyr clan."

The Sharkmen sat on the edge of the island, watching as the distant dots of the flying godlings headed toward the island with the flag. The Ripple clan, following closely behind, made the same decision and landed on a nearby island. Even the Werewolves, who had been running along their icy path, recognized the danger. They landed on an island with the Ripple clan, content to wait for the next stage and the next flag.

However, not all competitors were content to sit on the sidelines. One clan still participated in the chaos created by the Zephyr and Harpy races. Though many had forgotten about them, the spectators in the colosseum had not. All eyes were now on the Terra clan, who had stayed hidden but were now making their move.

In the hologram above the arena, the Terra clan’s island had risen high into the sky—so high that they could now see the battling godlings heading toward the flag. Garrok and his team emerged, controlling the island’s descent as they positioned it directly above the island holding the flag. Then, they released their control, letting the island fall like a meteor.

Below, the Harpies and Zephyr clan finally noticed the massive shadow looming overhead. The island was descending fast, blocking out the last remnants of sunlight. The realization hit them both at once—they weren’t the only ones vying for the flag. Garrok’s clan had been lying in wait, positioning themselves like hunters stalking prey, and now their island was falling directly toward the flag.

"Those cowards think they can just swoop in and take it?" screeched one of the Harpies, their wings flapping furiously as they struggled to maintain control in the storm. Pride surged through the Harpy warriors, and they pushed themselves harder. Lightning crackled at their wingtips as they accelerated, refusing to let the Terra clan steal their prize.

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