"Wicked creature!" Barachiel swung his greatsword. Countless arcs of lightning burst forth, and a melodious celestial hymn resonated once more.
The immense celestial power receded sharply like an ebbing tide, while the distant Storm of Ruin began to gradually subside...
The collapsing heaven dissolved into specks of brilliance that coalesced toward Barachiel. At last, an ornate, resplendent celestial temple of shimmering silver and gold manifested behind him.
A starry night sky spanning several kilometers stretched out, radiating the aura of order and standing as an equal counterweight against Cassius's overwhelming pressure.
Barachiel flared the massive feathered wings behind him, gathering the power of Mount Celestia. Fine glimmers danced in his deep violet eyes, and a radiant aura so dense it bordered on solid matter emanated from his entire being. Behind him, countless halos of light rotated slowly.
Every halo hovering behind him held enough celestial might to work miracles, radiating the laws of order.
This was not discouragement or admission of defeat; it was the mark of him truly taking things seriously and committing completely.
The earlier manifestation of heaven, vast and magnificent though it had been, resembled an ostentatious trial meant to judge an inferior being—a display whose sheer spectacle eclipsed its actual destructive force.
Yet through the course of battle, the Lord of the Silver Heaven had come to realize that the Cinder Emperor before him was no ordinary transgressor to be casually condemned, but an adversary worthy of his full strength.
Gazing up at the red dragon sneering with wild arrogance, Barachiel knew that if this continued, he might well lose!
His pride and dignity as the Lord of the Silver Heaven would not permit him to fall to a creature of the Material Plane—not even to an incomparably mighty dragon.
"In nearly a thousand years, since the catastrophe when the Abyss assaulted Heaven, you are the first enemy worthy of my full might, Cassius! You should—feel supremely honored!"
Barachiel beat his wings and released a thunderous roar. Raising the bright silver greatsword in his hands, vast celestial power surged forth, condensing into a radiant colossal blade a kilometer long that spanned the heavens.
*Sword of Heaven.*
Carrying terrifying momentum, the gigantic blade instantly cleaved through space and swung down violently toward the red dragon amidst a furious tempest.
"You are the ones who should feel honored! Your blood shall become the key that unlocks a new era!"
Cassius roared in response. Showing no fear, he snapped his wings open and gave a powerful flap.
His colossal frame accelerated in an instant, transforming into a crimson afterimage trailing radiant flame. High in the sky, he deftly dodged the sweeping edge of the blade, swooping down and pouncing toward Barachiel and the others.
Barachiel and his companions knew that in close-quarters combat against a fifty-meter-long red dragon, they would hold no advantage whatsoever.
Barachiel's gaze hardened. He cleaved horizontally with his bright silver sword, and the kilometer-long starry blade sheared through distant clouds, sweeping once more along the red dragon's dive trajectory.
Walter likewise brandished the Sword of the Sun God, sending countless radiant blades flying through the air toward the red dragon.
The ancient gold dragon Titus swept his scepter with a massive claw, conjuring a dazzling Prismatic Wall high in the sky to cut off the dragon's room to maneuver.
"Roar—"
With a furious roar, the red dragon spewed a torrential torrent of dragonflame. Under the Elemental Master's exquisite control, the flames coalesced midair into over a dozen identical dragon silhouettes, making it momentarily impossible to tell the real from the false.
Immediately following, dark green antimagic rays lanced forth simultaneously from the dragons' claws, effortlessly piercing right through the Prismatic Wall.
Barachiel's eyes flashed, instantly identifying Cassius's true body—as the Lord of the Silver Heaven, he possessed an innate spell-like ability of True Seeing.
Gripping the sword with both hands, he swung down violently at the red dragon's true form, while stars poured from the blade one after another, shattering the fiery duplicates.
With a sharp whistle of wind, Cassius flapped his wings and banked his massive body through an astonishingly demanding maneuver, knifing through the air with his chest practically grazing the blade.
Horror flashed across Walter's face. He muttered under his breath, "How can he be so agile?!"
He had fought against formidable dragons before—great wyrm gold dragons, great wyrm red dragons—and the larger a dragon grew, the clumsier its movements became. That was virtually an iron law.
Yet the red dragon before him shattered his understanding entirely. While boasting a frame that far surpassed a great wyrm gold dragon, this Cinder Emperor possessed agility and speed surpassing even slender drakes!
"I'll show you all what an incarnation of pure power truly is!"
Cassius bellowed, pouncing down upon the enemies below. His razor-sharp claws ripped through the air with ear-piercing sonic cracks.
As he descended, Cassius also layered spells upon himself—Dragon Strength, Iron Body, Bull's Strength, and more. Although their enhancement was minimal given his colossal bulk, every bit of improvement still helped.
Overwhelming dragon aura mingled with the stench of sulfur rolled over them. Facing the ferocious red dragon, Walter braced himself as if facing the apocalypse, hastily raising his sword and shield to meet the onslaught.
Titus also let out a long cry and raised the scepter in his claw, displaying the ancient gold dragon's innate spellcasting might.
Dazzling arcs of sword light and spell barriers shimmering with multifaceted auras rose before the red dragon, only to be ruthlessly torn apart by his colossal claws or shattered under his snapping jaws, failing to buy even a fraction of a second.
Each of Cassius's talons gleamed with chilling sharpness, imbued with the properties of a vorpal sword and a dispelling blade, more than enough to obliterate any magical effect in his path.
"Vile dragon!"
Barachiel shouted. A halo behind him suddenly expanded, bursting with brilliant radiance. Luminous wings a hundred meters long unfurled from his back, folding forward to wrap and shield everyone within.
"You think this can stop me?!"
Cassius brought down his claws without hesitation. Countless feathers exploded outward, drifting through the air as a massive chunk was ripped from the wings of celestial brilliance.
*Whoosh!*
Yet in the next heartbeat, the colossal wings flared open with explosive force. A gale infused with the power of order surged forward, actually blowing Cassius backward. Dozens of golden pinions plunged into his chest and flank, drawing scalding streams of dragon blood.
These pinions, laden with celestial power, were like needle-sharp awls that punctured the protective spells across the red dragon's body and even pierced through his scales.
Cassius wiped at the blood on his chest, a flicker of surprise surfacing in his pale golden eyes.
He had actually... been injured?
Barachiel raised his silver sword. Several halos behind him spun at blurring speed, releasing dazzling starlight and casting an aura of justice that washed over the entire battlefield.
A voice filled with wrathful rebuke echoed across the sky: "Who gave you the audacity to make an enemy of Heaven?! To make an enemy of justice and order?! And..."
The radiance coalesced midair, ultimately taking the shape of a winged giant hundreds of meters tall.
The giant wore the Crown of Glory upon its head and held a starry sword spanning a kilometer in its hands. Layer upon layer of glowing halos drifted behind it, exuding a staggering presence akin to the avatar of a true deity.
At this moment, Barachiel had summoned the absolute maximum celestial power he could wield in the Material Plane. In this state, he *was* the embodiment of the Silver Heaven!
Barachiel's true body rested at the chest of the radiant giant. Looking toward the red dragon with detached eyes, he declared word by word, "...to make an enemy of *me*!"
"By Amaunator..."
"Ye gods..."
Looking up at the giant in the sky, the mortals on the ground fell to their knees once more, murmuring fervent prayers.
In their eyes, Barachiel was indistinguishable from a true deity; this stupendous grandeur was nothing short of a god descending into the mortal world.
Moreover, the Crown of Glory upon his head possessed a unique power. As it radiated brilliant light, anyone of weak will would surrender to Barachiel from the depths of their soul.
Cassius regarded Barachiel's divine form, then glanced down at the blood on his claws, letting out a laugh tinged with excitement. "A giant form? Do you think you're a Giant of Light? Heh, as if I couldn't do that too.
"Still... only this can make this fight entertaining!"
The red dragon gave a rasping roar and flapped his wings again, cloaking his body in raging dragonflame as he dived. Without anyone noticing, the wound on his chest had already closed completely.
Barachiel raised the starry sword high and brought it down once more. Several beams of sacred light lanced down from the heavens in succession, hurtling toward the red dragon.
*Holy Smite.*
Cassius flew deftly high above, darting and weaving through the sky. Seizing an opening, he lunged forward and sank his jaws into the giant's arm.
*Riiip!*
Flesh formed of celestial power was shredded by the red dragon. His maw of razor-sharp fangs acted like a black hole, voraciously gulping down the power of order and gouging a massive, jagged wound into the giant's arm.
"Damned dragon, you dare desecrate the Lord of the Silver Heaven?!"
Feeling the drain of his core power, Barachiel roared in outrage and pressed his offensive with even greater madness. Colossal blades of light, blazing meteors, dense stars, and terrifying lightning filled the skies. The crisscrossing brilliance was almost enough to blind the soldiers watching below.
Meanwhile, his innate Mass Heal rapidly mended his wounds at a visible rate.
Yet Cassius, relying on his extreme speed and the spatial transit of his Flame Dimension Door, dodged continuously through the barrage, watching for openings.
Like a cold, calculating hunter, the moment he spotted a flaw in his opponent's guard, he dove in at blinding speed to bite or claw, pulling back immediately after striking and never lingering to land an extra blow.
Walter and Titus attempted to coordinate attacks and flank the red dragon, but each time Cassius seemed to anticipate their moves. Far from falling into their traps, he left them battered and bloodied.
Barachiel reached the end of his patience. Hurling heavy magical chains, he locked down the surrounding space.
*Dimensional Anchor!*
"Lord Barachiel, watch out!" Walter cried out in terror, but it was already too late.
Taking advantage of the brief lull as the angel cast his spell, Cassius was already behind Barachiel. A claw tore straight through the massive golden wing, tips trailing chaotic flames that eradicated all in their path, ripping it violently apart!
A horrifying tear opened across the hundreds-of-meters-wide wing, its ragged edges still burning with dark-red flames—a gruesome sight to behold.
"Unforgivable—!"
Barachiel cried out to the heavens in shock and fury. Though his wing began regenerating at a visible rate, if the battle dragged on like this, his power in the Material Plane would only grow weaker and weaker!
The red dragon's arrogant voice continued to reverberate through the skies: "Accept reality! Holy Fadlan is dead, and the Cinder Empire shall be the architect of the new order!"
Walter stared at the dragon wheeling rapidly high in the heavens, anguish burning in his chest as anger, fear, and even despair clouded his thoughts.
He knew that if Barachiel fell, he and the ancient gold dragon would surely die as well. North Aethel would be conquered by the Cinder Empire, and even the legacy of Holy Fadlan would be greedily devoured.
Yet in this clash between two beings standing at the pinnacle of the Material Plane, neither he nor the ancient gold dragon could truly intervene. They could offer only minor magical support and had even required Barachiel's protection, dividing his attention.
This filled Walter with immense sorrow and defeat.
As the former "Wings of Fadlan," a man who styled himself the guardian of the empire, he was reduced to standing by helplessly while the fate of the Fadlan Empire rested in another's hands, leaving the invaders free to run rampant while he could do nothing.
Gazing at the roaring dragon above, hesitation flickered in Walter's golden eyes. He murmured softly, "Perhaps... I can change the outcome of this war. But it will cost an unimaginably heavy price—my life."
As fortunate souls who had received the blessing of Amaunator, each godblood harbored within them an origin spark of the Sun's divine power. That spark was the very flame sustaining their lives, the fountainhead of their immortality.
Yet a godblood could also choose to intentionally detonate that divine might, unleashing a spell-like ability surpassing the ninth circle—*End of Days*.
Still, every godblood was exceedingly precious, a priceless treasure of the Emperor. Throughout the century-long history of Holy Fadlan, only a mere handful of them had ever invoked this power.
Walter closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted back decades to the ceremony he could never forget in this lifetime. On that day, the old emperor had personally laid a sword upon his shoulder, granting him the status of godblood nobility, and Amaunator had bestowed His divine power.
Kneeling on the ground with tears of passion, bathed in radiant sunlight, flags fluttering overhead, the cheers of the Fadlan people ringing in his ears...
At this thought, Walter opened his eyes, all hesitation gone. A resolute, unflinching light burned in his gaze. "The Fadlan Empire is my everything. The time has come... to give my life for the empire."
"Roar—"
An earth-shaking dragon roar shattered Walter's contemplation.
The gold dragon Titus raised his scepter again, casting a spell toward the red dragon high in the sky before turning his head back. "Duke Walter, this is a battlefield! What in the world are you doing?!"
"If Lord Barachiel hadn't shielded you at great cost to his own power, you would already be dead!" Titus bellowed furiously, his expression grim.
Barachiel had consumed an entire celestial halo to erect a spherical barrier around them, buying a fleeting respite and rendering them temporarily invulnerable.
Walter said, "Forgive me, Lord Titus, Lord Barachiel. My mind drifted for a moment.
"Let us proceed according to our final plan. Bring the battlefield up to ten thousand meters in the sky, immobilize our foe briefly, and I might be able to... slay that red dragon in a single blow."
In an instant, Titus and Barachiel both turned in astonishment, fixing their gazes on Walter—for the cost of this final plan was his very life.
Walter tightened his grip on the sword carved with the holy symbol of the Sun God. His voice was resolute and firm, a peculiar light shining in his eyes.
"Do not worry. The people of Fadlan will remember me."
For a moment, Titus and Barachiel fell silent. Neither spoke to dissuade him, for both understood Walter's determination.
This godblood noble had made his choice: to sacrifice his own life to slay that terrible red dragon and seize final victory.
This was the final gift he would offer to the Holy Fadlan Empire.
Of course, Duke Walter had no idea that his plan—bought at the price of his own life—had already fallen into enemy ears, fully known to his foe.
Beside him, the ancient gold dragon Titus let a faint, imperceptible smile slip across his face.
Chapter 621