"Void of Silent Darkness."
The final of the four moves of Kyle’s sword art was intertwined with the very darkness Azazeal ruled, capable of erasing anything.
He had infused the strike with several dark natural laws—Death, Darkness, Decay, and Oblivion—letting them flow along the edge of his blade while drawing upon the chilling power of his Celestial symbol. So, after the blade fell, the force of all those converging powers was so tremendous that even Kyle himself was pushed backward by the recoil.
The seven figures in front of Kyle tried to evade the attack instinctively despite their fearless resolve, but one was still struck.
Kyle breathed deeply, a cold wisp of white escaping his lips, as he watched one of the seven bodies split cleanly from shoulder to torso. His brows knitted. After all, the strike he had just unleashed possessed the power to completely erase anything it touched into nothingness, yet when it came to Azazeal, only the body was cleaved in two halves.
Suddenly, the cleaved halves twitched.
Then a wave of darkness rushed out from the two halves, writhing to reconnect them.
But how could Kyle allow that?
Ignoring the attacks raining down on him from the remaining six bodies, he instantly shot forward. His movement was so fast it seemed to shatter through the boundaries of time and space themselves. In little than an instant, he reached the cleaved body, his hand plunging toward the fragment of dark soul sustaining it—aiming to hurriedly drag out that fragment within it. The instant his fingers touched it, a powerful wave of dark power erupted from the dark soul, lashing out like a living thing. It even succeeded in striking him—thin strands of black seeped into his fingertips, spreading like poison.
Yet before the dark corruption could travel any farther, familiar cold flames burst to life around Kyle. The pale fire froze everything it touched. In a heartbeat, the struggling body was sealed into a flawless sculpture of ice.
Under the wide obsidian eyes covered in a layer of cold, Kyle clenched his grasp and tore the soul from within the frozen shell.
The moment the soul was pulled out, the frozen body before Kyle lost all lifeforce.
It cracked silently under his power, then scattered into countless tiny snowflakes.
Simultaneously, the other six bodies attacking him let out howls of agony.
Amidst the pained cries, suddenly, a low, sickening sound of flesh tearing echoed.
Kyle spat out blood as he glanced toward his left shoulder—his body trembled at the sight of a straight cut. Blood spurted from the wound as the arm below the shoulder, the one holding the sword, was cut cleanly from his body and plummeted downward.
The strike had been so sudden and violent that a scream tore unconsciously from his lips. Instinctively, Kyle clutched his wound and covered himself in a protective layer of cold to shield himself from the onslaught.
The power of his Celestial symbol surged forth to recover his wound. First, a chilling wave of energy radiated from the wound.
Instantly, a lattice of white bones formed from the cold, followed by veins, flesh, and flawless skin, knitting a new arm for him at a blinding speed visible to the naked eye.
Kyle’s face had turned slightly pale, feeling the sting of the strike he had just endured. He had to admit—it was far from pleasant. And to think the pain Azazeal felt when he cut his body in half was worse than this.
He had to acknowledge that Azazeal’s threshold was truly higher than his own.
Though he had long grown used to pain, certain sudden strikes still took their toll.
Groaning, he hurriedly sealed the writhing soul fragment in his right hand into an ice crystal, forged another large sword in the process, and struck back at the six figures clawing at him. Two of the six figures even held blades formed from darkness. Clearly, one of them had severed his arm earlier.
The violent battle raged from one spot to another, tearing through everything solid in their path—floating territories, even the very space around them broke in the aftermath, unable to heal. Six streaks of crimson light clashed against one pale glow, creating a terrifying scene that felt almost surreal.
The impact of the fight was so immense that it even thundered across the distant half of the Celestial realm, which had not frozen under the power of Kyle’s domain.
Countless Celestials gathered around the vast frozen area, desperate to understand what was happening. Still, no matter how powerful, none dared to step into the cold domain, except for the worried Celestials whose loved ones lived in the frozen land.
However, those who tried to enter the ice were either frozen solid or hurled back by its overwhelming cold. Just brushing the cold boundary caused their skin to start crystallizing into ice. In the end, even the bravest could do nothing but watch the frozen expanse and wait for it to thaw.
An entire day passed.
Countless eyes watched the ice—some filled with worry, some with panic, some with curiosity, and some with solemnity.
Some even showed greed, hoping to gain something from whatever was unfolding.
Ultimately, almost every Celestial in the unfrozen part of the Celestial realm had gathered around the ice. Low murmurs of anxiety and speculation wove through the air, yet the ice refused to budge. Not even the fiercest flames, laws, or powers could leave a mark on the frozen expanse.
Another day dragged on.
The bone-chilling cold spreading from the ice extended in every direction across the unaffected parts of the Celestial realm.
Despite the oppressive cold, the distant violent echoes of the battle never ceased.
It was a haunting reminder of the chaos still raging within the vast frozen expanse.
After two days, another agonizing scream thundered from the center of the domain.
Kyle was violently thrown downward, his body tearing through the many layers of frost he had crafted to lessen the impact.
Even so, his fingers never released their hold on the second soul fragment he had ripped from one of the remaining bodies, fighting on without a moment’s pause.
Blood blurred his vision in a crimson hue, trickling down from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t even bother to wipe it away.
As he finally forced his body to pause, his gaze lifted toward the second frozen body in the distance, scattering into snowflakes.
One of his legs—and a portion of his side—had been severed during the exchange. Yet Kyle did not fall for long. Ignoring the pain, he forced his bloodied body upright. Frost instantly covered his wounds to heal him.
But no matter how rapid his recovery was, its speed was gradually declining, showing that even if he had a lot of energy, his body and mind were beginning to wear down.
The remaining five bodies lunged at him—their dark eyes bloodshot, the purple slits almost glowing crimson, their killing intent reverberating through the fractured space.
Kyle’s trembling body straightened slowly.
Then he raised his sword again.
"Two down, five more to go."
He watched the attacks rain down on him but strangely didn’t stop them this time. As a hand pierced his chest, his lips curled up as he met the obsidian eyes nearest him.
"You forget?"
Just as the whisper echoed, everything around them erupted in light, flooded with countless golden symbols. They sprawled like a colossal spider web, each line and curve glowing with intense brilliance.
The symbols shimmered, radiating pure natural power that made the air hum and the ground tremble beneath their weight.
The sudden brilliance forced Azazeal to squint. Before he could crush the heart in his grip, the golden symbols erupted with blinding speed, instantly wrapping around all his bodies and dragging them back.
Kyle covered the gaping hole in his chest, spitting out blood. A massive snowflake appeared below him to cushion his fall as he kneeled, watching the struggling bodies. His voice was hoarse as he wiped his lips.
"Haha... almost got me."