Northern Main Continent, Frisland.
In the dead of night, above the silent city of Aransdel, the capital of Frisland, the great impending crisis had silently dissipated. The massive steel warship that had plunged through the clouds, a symbol of destruction, was now gradually decelerating midair. The violently surging and unstable energy within its reactor was slowly settling.
“In the name of Saint Kramar... Sacred Law Judicator, immediately abort self-destruct protocol. Decelerate, hover, cease overload!”
On the broad foredeck of the Sacred Law Judicator, before the towering tribunal stand, the soul-form “Kramar” issued orders to the mechanical servitors aboard the warship in his own name. The machines obeyed at once. As the ship gradually slowed, the entire Saint Steel Vessel stabilized, halting its self-destruction sequence.
“Good... we made it in time.”
Feeling the airship's motion begin to steady beneath her, Sadroya let out a long sigh of relief. She had only just arrived in Aransdel aboard the Twilight Devotion, making it just in time for the critical moment. High above, even Ivy—who had been in a pursuit stance—relaxed upon witnessing this, beginning to decelerate.
“Thank goodness... a pointless judgment did not fall upon the innocent…”
After stabilizing the Sacred Law Judicator, “Kramar” raised his head, locking his gaze skyward. He stared at the thick cloud cover that occasionally shimmered faintly, then floated upward—his spiritual form ascending rapidly toward the heavens.
At that moment, high above Aransdel, beyond the clouds, in the distant sky far from land, the battle between the two winged Cardinals—Kramar and Amanda—was drawing to a close. With the fight having moved away from the city, Amanda held a clear advantage, ultimately subduing and restraining Kramar.
At this moment, Kramar was ensnared by a semi-illusory white serpent. The several-meter-long serpent had radiant white scales, crimson eyes, and a pair of matching white wings on its back. Its form was graceful, elegant, and beautiful. Lacking any of the usual menace associated with serpents. Though the serpent appeared loosely coiled around Kramar, without exerting any visible force, he could not escape.
Amanda hovered nearby, silently watching her colleague as he thrashed and roared. Not at her, but to the void.
“Why... why has the purification not begun?! The Sacred Law Judicator has not been destroyed… but the commands I programmed… why were they not executed!?
“The Holy Purification… why hasn’t it arrived yet?!”
“Because such a purification is far from holy... it is shameful... How pitiful I was...”
As Kramar raged in his confusion, a voice responded from below. Upon hearing the familiar tone, he froze in shock and turned to look downward—where he beheld something that stunned him beyond belief.
“What... You’re…”
“The farce is over, Vambas.”
To Kramar’s utter astonishment, the soul-form “Kramar” had arrived before him and merged into his body.
The moment soul and body reunited, Kramar’s furious expression went blank. He stood there, utterly still, eyes vacant and unseeing. Amanda silently observed this, eyes full of caution.
A few seconds later, Kramar’s pupils began to tremble slightly. As the rigidity in his expression faded, vitality and awareness gradually returned to his face—along with a sense of calm that contrasted starkly with his previous madness.
“Ah... release me, Olivia. That’s enough…”
With a soft sigh, Kramar spoke gently. Amanda, however, did not immediately lift the restraint. Instead, she probed carefully.
“Do you still intend to purify Aransdel?”
“Only the cultists of the Nether Coffin Order would wish me to do such a thing. Only my broken, fanatical, and utterly paranoid half would stubbornly insist on such a course... ignoring every attempt at reason…”
Hearing his words, Amanda’s heart eased. With a wave of her hand, the white serpent with feathered wings faded into nothingness. Watching Kramar stretch and reacclimate to his body, she continued.
“You’ve always given me the impression of being fanatical and unhinged… but today, ‘you’ truly taught me how shallow my understanding of madness was.”
“Hmph… spare me your sarcasm, Olivia. I admit I’ve caused the Church a bit of trouble, but in the grand scheme of things, without my intervention things could’ve been worse…”
As he stretched, Kramar spoke candidly. Amanda raised an eyebrow slightly, then chuckled softly.
“Heh… it was a bit more than just ‘a bit’ of trouble…”
“Alright, alright… tallying sins can wait. Now’s not the time for post-crisis reckoning… we still have problems to handle.”
Kramar said directly. Hearing this, Amanda frowned.
“What do you mean? The Nether Coffin Order’s remains ritual has been stopped… with your return to sanity, no ritual can be enacted here… do they still…”
Before she could finish, Amanda suddenly froze. Her entire body became still, her eyes wide, as she turned toward the distant western sky with an expression of utter disbelief.
“Th-That… what is that?! Such an intense mystical anomaly… this scale of spiritual turbulence… what… what in the world is that?!”
Using the insight of the Gold-rank Lantern, Amanda could feel it—an immense, surging wave of spirituality expanding like a tsunami on the horizon, overwhelming the skyline. She muttered in disbelief. Beside her, Kramar muttered gravely.
“That… is the undead of an ancient heretic god from before current epoch… it is controlled by that wretched Great Blasphemer, executing the will of an evil god…”
“An undead… of an ancient heretic god…”
Amanda echoed the words in stunned whisper.
…
Across the ocean, Starfall Continent.
Heavy clouds obscured the sky, and fierce winds howled like a million stampeding horses. In the pitch-black night, the frigid snow rode the gales with brutal force, blanketing the land in deathly cold and delivering bitter suffering to every living being on Starfall Continent.
Above the continent now hovered a monstrous cold vortex spanning thousands of kilometers in radius. This massive storm churned the atmosphere and swept rapidly eastward. Beneath the vortex’s icy swirl, the land was mercilessly ravaged by blizzards. Near the storm's eye, all life—birds, beasts, weeds, and trees alike—perished en masse in the unbearable cold. Life wilted in droves along the vortex's path.
Amid the raging storm, Starfall’s largest port city, New Jacques, had come to a complete halt. No soul could be seen outdoors. Every resident huddled inside, trembling, struggling to light fires for warmth. What once took a single match now required multiple attempts to spark into flame.
“Lord… what did we do wrong? Is this divine punishment?”
In their homes, the citizens of New Jacques watched the unprecedented storm through their windows with dread, murmuring prayers. They still had the chance to pray—unlike the people living in the vortex’s core or fringe regions, who were already succumbing to the sudden cold in mass death, greeting the freeze of death.
High above the cloud cover, at the center of the continent-spanning vortex, soared a colossal undead dragon composed entirely of bone. Without meaning to, its flight created this super-scale weather system as it swiftly made its way eastward.
“Go… go… return to your homeland, Inut… return to your ancient kingdom…”
Floating atop the skeletal dragon’s back, the skeletal bishop Fabrizio muttered in a hoarse voice. He was controlling this ancient heretic god—once the Northern Dragon of old—commanding it across a long journey.
The Lord of Calamitous Cold flapped its wings, unleashing cold waves upon the continent. Every land it passed beneath became lifeless tundra. Those unfortunate enough to fall within its path could only die helplessly, praying futilely to their gods. Cities overflown by the undead dragon often saw their inhabitants collapse from hypothermia before they even realized what was happening, leaving only silence behind.
Eventually, after unintentionally obliterating numerous native tribes and colonist cities, the skeletal dragon flew off the continent—out over the surging ocean.
Even after leaving land, it continued flying northeast at high speed, freezing vast stretches of sea below. The extreme climate it brought plunged countless ships on the ocean into dire peril.
Thus, the undead dragon soared across the ocean at incredible speed, approaching the northwestern part of the Main Continent. At this moment, the impact it caused on the material plane was already formidable, but on the mystical level, it was even more dramatic. Its presence was sensed by sharp-sensed Beyonders from across much of the world.
…
In the dense forests of South Ufiga, within a temple built atop a massive split tree stump, a figure clad in a nun’s habit—Unina—gazed into the tree sea under the night sky and softly muttered.
“First the Spider, now the Dead? And it’s making an even bigger commotion than before… Every last one of them is gathering during this time, growing impatient... all of them wanting to act before Phaethon’s final deadline…”
Murmuring to herself, a faint smile curved Unina’s lips, and she added in a whisper.
“Well then… there’s no such thing as too many vanguards…”
…
In the towering, desolate dunes of North Ufiga, within a barren canyon, a mummy-like pharaoh named Hafdar stood with a withered figure and glowing eyes, gazing westward. In a grim, hoarse tone, he muttered to himself.
“In the Nether Realm… that loathsome usurper has already reached this stage? That’s… unexpected.
“Let’s hope… this doesn’t interfere with the ‘Great Plan’…”
The undead dragon’s existence was now being sensed by more and more high-ranking Beyonders. Some in shock, some in fear, and others in curiosity. But the strongest reaction came from the Radiance Church.
In the central heartlands of the Main Continent, atop the cloud-piercing Holy Mount, incessant chimes rang through the sacred land. Countless priests and knights, roused from their rest, swiftly mobilized to their posts.
The entire Holy Mount and the sacred city, already on war alert, were now fully awakened by these bells—chimes not heard in centuries. Every Holy Guard was mobilized, every weapon system was activated, and legions of Saint Steel Vessels took to the skies. The Holy Mount was now under full-scale alert.
Upon the long marble staircase in front of the Holy Grand Cathedral, Hilbert, clad in solemn cardinal robes, advanced briskly under the guard of sentries. His expression grave, his steps did not falter as he passed through the grand portico and entered the vast cathedral interior. At the far end of the hall, before the holy seat, two figures were already waiting.
They were the other two cardinals currently stationed on Holy Mount—the withered elder Marco and the veiled Alberto.
“Only the two of you? Where are the others?”
Hilbert frowned as he reached the holy seat and saw only them. Marco quickly replied.
“The whereabouts of the Cardinal of Secrets are always secret… we’ve never been able to track her. As for the Cardinal of Inquisition, he departed the Holy Mount without notice just yesterday, his destination unknown. And the Cardinal of Redemption left only recently; we can confirm she went to Frisland, bringing several secondary Saint Steel Vessels from the Court of Redemption…”
“Of all times… and now we’re suddenly missing this many people…”
Hilbert muttered in dissatisfaction. Then, glancing at Alberto, he asked.
“Can you now pinpoint the origin of that spiritual wave?”
“Yes. I’ve compiled the instrument data, filtered out interference, and confirmed the general fluctuation pattern. Look here…”
As he spoke, Hilbert gave a light wave of his hand. At once, faint light distortions began appearing across the smooth cathedral floor. Within those distortions, an image rapidly stabilized—it was a simplified world map.
On the map, numerous lines resembling contour or pressure lines crisscrossed the globe, dividing it into many regions, each shaded with different depths of color.
But over the vast ocean between the Main Continent and the New Continent, those once-smooth lines suddenly converged tightly around a central point. Line after line curled inward, growing denser and darker in shade until the center was nearly pitch-black.
Upon seeing this exaggerated pattern of contours and coloring, both Hilbert and Marco turned visibly grim. Marco whispered in disbelief:
“This scale of spiritual outburst… What on earth is happening there? What could possibly lie at that point?”
“It must be some sort of powerful divine entity…”
Following Marco’s words, Alberto solemnly continued. Though his face was obscured, his tone left no doubt about his seriousness.
“Only divinity of sufficient strength could cause this level of spiritual anomaly on a global scale. Judging from every indicator… the entity we’re observing may be of extremely high divine class—perhaps even beyond that of an apostle…”
“Beyond an apostle…”
Hilbert inhaled sharply. On the side, Marco also added with a grave tone.
“The divine disaster in Tivian only ended recently… and now something of this scale appears again? Why would such a powerful divine presence emerge in the material world… Who is this entity?!”
Faced with this once-in-several-centuries event—far more extreme than even the Tivian incident—the three cardinals were momentarily at a loss. After a brief silence, Hilbert spoke again with heavy determination.
“In any case, we need more information. I propose we activate the Sacred Staff at once!” he declared.
Marco and Alberto both nodded in agreement without hesitation.
Immediately, the three cardinals began praying in unison. Amidst radiant light, they summoned once more the legacy artifact of the Radiance Pontiff—the Staff of Radiant Decree. As the pure white staff hovered above the ground, Hilbert decisively reached out and grasped it.
“Reveal it to me…”
With those words, a gentle glow flickered from the staff in Hilbert’s hand. The image on the cathedral floor began to change, shifting from a simplified map into a vision of real-world scenes.
Revealed in the holy projection, the three cardinals saw it: beneath the black, frigid blizzard, a colossal undead dragon soaring on enormous wings. It was this terrifying creature that had triggered the global spiritual anomaly, sweeping forward with blizzards of immense scale.
“A dragon… a skeletal dragon?! That size… it exceeds any record of draconic remains in Church archives…”
Alberto shook his head in disbelief as he spoke. Marco, too, spoke grimly.
“Bones… dragon… frost… divinity…
“It seems this being is none other than the legendary Dragon of Calamitous Cold from the ancient Northern Sea—origin of every myth about the Northern Tyrant in Frisland… I never imagined it was real… But even according to the myths, this heretic god should have perished before the current epoch, in ancient times… Why would it suddenly revive now?”
Marco murmured in disbelief. Hilbert frowned deeply, as though something occurred to him.
“Frisland… Kramar went north, and Amanda also just said she was heading to Frisland… There must be a connection. Perhaps Artcheli is there too. Why did they all go off alone without informing us…”
But Hilbert’s puzzlement didn’t last long. After another glance at the revealed projection of the undead dragon, his expression hardened.
“Whatever the case, the situation is critical. A divine remnant of an ancient heretic god is fast approaching our continent—the most sacred bastion of the Lord’s people… Who knows what disaster it might bring if it reaches us. I propose we strike now, while it’s still above the ocean—bring it down!”
Hilbert’s words were firm. Marco nodded in agreement, and Alberto also voiced his support.
“I agree… But I’m uncertain if the Sacred Staff alone is enough to handle it. Even if it’s not a complete god, its divinity far surpasses anything we’ve dealt with before…”
“We still must try. We cannot allow such a being to approach the Main Continent unchallenged.”
As he spoke, Hilbert tightly gripped the Sacred Staff and silently closed his eyes, focusing his mind to link with the vast tide of faith atop Holy Mount. Using the staff, he extended his ritual across thousands of kilometers. As he held his breath in concentration, a brilliant light radiated from the tip of the staff.
At that very moment, above the vast Starfall Sea—where the undead dragon now flew—a great change began.
“O Solar Wheel… heed my invocation…”
At this time, the Starfall Sea lay within the planetary dark side—it was night, and thus untouched by direct sunlight.
From the center of the star system, only a minuscule portion of sunlight struck the planet’s dayside. Most of it skimmed the planet’s edges and scattered into the vast expanse of space. Now, using the Sacred Staff, Hilbert intercepted and controlled a portion of those rays that would otherwise pass unused into the void.
Capturing and redirecting countless sunbeams that should have escaped into the cosmos, Hilbert bent and gathered them above the Starfall Sea in low orbit. As the rays condensed, a brilliant orb of light began to form—rapidly expanding.
In this way, by seizing and recombining solar light meant for outer space, Hilbert forged a miniature sun in the planetary shadow above the Starfall Sea. This artificial sun illuminated the land below, casting daylight over an otherwise dark and frigid realm.
…
Over the Starfall Sea, Fabrizio—on the back of the undead dragon—suddenly noticed the pitch-black sky brighten. The darkness of night was instantly replaced with daylight. As he looked up, he saw a new “sun” suspended high in the sky.
“So… Holy Mount has finally made a move?”
Fabrizio whispered softly, while within the Holy Grand Cathedral, Hilbert stomped his Sacred Staff to the ground.
Suddenly, the miniature sun positioned in orbital space erupted with a blinding radiance, firing a massive beam of light toward the ocean below. In the blink of an eye, this searing column crossed hundreds of thousands of meters, directly striking the undead dragon below.
From the dragon’s perspective, the entire sky was instantly filled with blinding radiance. The “sun” expanded, the heavens burned, and a colossal beam—nearly 700–800 meters in diameter—pierced through ten thousand meters of cloud and reached the earth, engulfing the entire undead dragon.
In that instant, the freezing blizzard swirling around the dragon was utterly erased. The great beam cut through the thick clouds and dispelled all darkness. The frigid air around the dragon rapidly heated up. The atmosphere shimmered with intense heat, and the solid ice beneath the dragon vaporized the moment it made contact with the light. The beam that shot into the sea superheated the water, causing the surface of the vast ocean to boil within moments.
Under this searing holy light, it seemed nothing could exist. Everything exposed to this purifying radiance appeared doomed to vaporize.
The Staff of Radiant Decree was not only capable of peering across thousands of miles and dispelling all illusions—it could also invoke sun divinity to concentrate light and rain down destructive strikes from the heavens. Any target on this planet that the staff could detect could be subjected to an orbital strike.
The staff’s destructive light was powerful enough to annihilate any foe in the mortal world. Even apostles of the spiritual realm would avoid it. However, it was notoriously difficult to control. If anyone other than the Pontiff wielded it, even minor or major activations could easily result in power surges, triggering devastating backlashes.
Therefore, when a cardinal used it for orbital strikes, they were restricted to a preset scale defined by the Pontiff—not too strong nor too weak—to avoid losing control. Even this “medium” scale, however, was enough to obliterate a capital city of a great nation.
For this reason, the cardinals had not used the staff during the Tivian incident. Because doing so would have meant destroying all of Tivian and killing millions. At that time, the divine traces involved were limited, the threat localized, and the residents had not yet been turned into ritual tools for heretical rites. Thus, purification-level destruction was considered unnecessary. It could still be salvaged.
But now things were different. The divinity surrounding the undead dragon far surpassed what had occurred during the early and mid-stages of the Tivian crisis. The threat was enormous. Moreover, the dragon was still over open ocean, so striking it directly would not endanger civilian populations.
Thus, Hilbert didn’t hesitate at all. He launched a direct orbital strike against the undead dragon, believing the creature would be completely incinerated by the purifying blaze.
“ROAR!!!”
Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from within the blinding beam of light. With it came a violent fluctuation—the beam surged, then rapidly collapsed. From its core burst a wave of icy blue energy.
The ice-blue shockwave expanded outward, neutralizing the heat-distorted air. The sea refroze, and the rising temperatures plummeted sharply.
At the center of the blast zone, the undead dragon still soared in the sky. What was different now was that it was covered in a thin coat of ghostly blue ice armor. The staff’s divine destructive light had seemingly caused it little harm.
“What…”
“It’s… unharmed?!”
“So this… is what an ancient heretic god truly is…”
The three cardinals within the Grand Cathedral were momentarily struck dumb. None had expected the undead dragon to withstand—let alone disperse—the purifying beam. This was beyond anything they had anticipated.
“In that case… let’s see how many of those you can take!”
Gritting his teeth, Hilbert immediately launched another assault.
As Hilbert once again wielded the Sacred Staff, the miniature “sun” above the Starfall Sea burst forth with radiant light once more, firing another beam of destruction at the dragon below.
But this time, the undead dragon was prepared. As the miniature sun ignited, it raised its skull-like head and opened its maw. A deep azure light was already condensing inside.
Without a sound, a beam of blackish-blue breath shot from its jaws into the sky, colliding midair with the descending solar beam. Upon impact, the holy light instantly dimmed and froze in place—as if light itself had solidified—then shattered into glittering fragments that scattered like snowflakes.
The breath continued upward, piercing through the atmosphere and into space. It struck the miniature sun, which began to dim, then fracture like the beam it had once cast—finally fading from the heavens.
In mere moments, the dark side of the planet lost its substitute sun, and what had seemed like daylight was swallowed once again by night.
“This is troublesome…”
Watching the grim turn of events, Hilbert’s expression darkened. He tightened his grip on the Sacred Staff and resumed manipulating the bending of sunlight—preparing to forge a second miniature sun for another strike. Meanwhile, the undead dragon made its own move.
“Phaethon’s legacy… a nuisance after all. Looks like I’ll have to deal with it first…
“Fortunately… that place… I could never forget its location…”
Between the ribs of the undead dragon, a massive shard of ghostly blue ice was embedded. Fabrizio was encased within, muttering quietly. After foreseeing Holy Mount’s assault, he had used the dragon’s power to encase himself in ice, shielding himself from the destructive light. Otherwise, he would have been vaporized.
Having made up his mind, Fabrizio commanded the dragon to move again. This time, instead of flying northeast, it turned straight upward.
With incredible speed, the undead dragon shot into the skies, breaking through the upper atmosphere. As its altitude increased, the curvature of the planet became visible. Fabrizio could now see the planet’s roundness.
While Hilbert hurried to form the second miniature sun, the undead dragon had already ascended into space. Watching its trajectory, Hilbert assumed it was targeting the new sun. But then, Alberto—seeing the dragon ascend even higher—noticed that its head was not aimed at the forming sun above, but instead angled diagonally downward toward the southeast.
In that instant, something clicked in Alberto’s mind, and he blurted out.
“Stop using the Sacred Staff! Prepare the Divine Sentinel, now!”
“The Divine Sentinel? But that’s a defensive measure—”
“Just do it! Hurry!”
Alberto shouted over his colleague’s doubts. Hearing him, both Marco and Hilbert paused, then followed his command. Hilbert canceled the staff's attack. Marco sat cross-legged and began chanting scripture at great speed.
At that same moment, high above the ocean—nearly in space—the undead dragon once again opened its maw. From it, a fully condensed beam of black-blue breath was unleashed, aimed precisely at the southeast target it had locked onto earlier.
Thus, the black-blue breath streaked across the sky at astonishing speed, crossing continents and oceans, spanning mountains and rivers—hurtling straight toward the heart of the Main Continent: Holy Mount.
After traveling thousands of kilometers and passing through countless nations, the breath finally reached Holy Mount. From below, one could see the northwestern sky lit up by a slanted pillar of black-blue energy plunging downward.
“Activate all defensive arrays!”
At Alberto’s command, the vast and intricate defense formations of Holy Mount activated all at once. Including the sacred city below, the entire Holy Mount was immediately wrapped in countless layers of semi-transparent light barriers. In the sky above these shields, auroras descended, forming wall upon wall of radiant fortification.
The black-blue dragon breath slammed into these light-walls with terrifying force.
Indeed… in order to prevent the cardinals of Holy Mount from continuing to wield the Sacred Staff, Fabrizio had the undead dragon launch an ultra-long-range strike against the mountain itself—just as Holy Mount had done moments ago. After all, he knew the coordinates of Holy Mount better than anyone.
Since the undead dragon’s breath weapon was fired in a straight ray-like line, it could not strike a target thousands of kilometers away due to the curvature of the planet. Thus, it had to ascend to a sufficient altitude.
The dragon’s black-blue breath struck the walls of light one after another. Upon impact, each radiant barrier dimmed, congealed, and shattered. The breath pierced through them effortlessly. These defenses were utterly fragile before it.
Within the sacred city of Holy Mount, countless dazzling beams and artillery shells were launched toward the breath. But before even getting close, the beams dimmed and froze in midair before breaking apart and vanishing. As for the physical artillery shells, they mysteriously lost momentum mid-flight, hanging motionless in the air. Even those that exploded managed only a brief flash of flame before instantly vanishing.
The divine breath of the undead dragon Inut seemed to possess the property of erasing all energy—be it kinetic, thermal, or otherwise. Anything that approached it was rapidly weakened and simply ceased to exist, rather than transforming into another form.
This was the divine essence of the Lord of Calamitous Cold: the suppression and negation of all motion and all energy—casting both matter and soul into eternal stillness.
All of Holy Mount’s active defenses were completely ineffective against the black-blue breath. Whether physical weapons, mystical weapons, or energy weapons—none could affect it. As for passive defenses like barrier layers, they were pierced through one by one. Even the inner shields served at best to delay the breath’s advance by a fraction.
Just as all of Holy Mount’s seventy-two defensive layers were penetrated, and the breath was closing in on the Grand Cathedral atop the summit, the preparations of Marco and Hilbert were finally complete. Marco, with his eyes tightly shut, now opened them—light glowing within—as he softly intoned.
“Divine Sentinel… Keystone… Marco…”
As he murmured, countless arcane runes and patterns spread out beneath him, instantly covering the entire cathedral and extending across the mountain. Holy Mount’s steep and towering slopes lit up with massive glowing sigils of ancient mystery.
At the same time, Hilbert stood at the cathedral’s entrance. No longer holding the Sacred Staff, he faced the incoming breath and solemnly declared.
“Divine Sentinel… Swordbearer… Hilbert…
“Ascension—Seraph!”
In an instant, brilliant radiance erupted from Hilbert’s body, rapidly expanding to a height of tens of meters.
As his body swelled, his form transformed violently—flesh and robes combusting into roaring flame, which then coalesced into resplendent red-gold armor. From his back, a pair of massive white wings sprouted. When fully unfurled, the wingtips ignited, and the wings themselves turned a bronzed hue, with a metallic sheen beneath the fire.
At last, Hilbert stood over a hundred meters tall, his flame-wreathed head encased in a majestic helmet. Atop it appeared a flaming halo, endlessly burning. In that moment, he stood atop the Holy Mount—a holy, solemn, and transcendent being.
This was the Seraph—one of the apostolic forms of the Lantern domain, representing the holy flames of conquest and immortality, and the strongest blade in the Radiance Church’s hand!
The Radiance Church was the most powerful institution in the world. Holy Mount could be called the most formidable sacred land in the material world. After years of Church development and immeasurable resources invested, Holy Mount’s sanctity far surpassed that of most sacred lands.
The Divine Sentinel was a manifestation of that sanctity—an extraordinary sacred land ritual that required at least two cardinals to perform. One served as the keystone to host the ritual, while the other bore the transformation.
It called upon heavenly divinity, infusing it into the ritual-bearer, allowing them to ascend and incarnate as an Apostle of the Lantern within a defined area, wielding divine power to defend the sacred land. It was a defense-oriented ritual, which is why the Church mandated that Holy Mount must always have at least two cardinals present. Now, that ritual was being enacted by Hilbert and Marco.
This was one of the few remaining means the Radiance Church possessed to directly invoke divinity.
“Wretched power of the heretic god—defile not the sacred ground!”
With a thunderous command, Hilbert—now clad in divine armor—manifested a great flaming sword in his hand and swung it toward the oncoming breath. At once, the space before him split open, unleashing an endless torrent of flame that surged forward to clash with the black-blue breath!
The tide of flame was so vast that it seemed to set the entire sky above Holy Mount ablaze. The surrounding region turned momentarily into what looked like daylight.
The energy within the flames was enough to destroy the entire sacred land repeatedly. Left unchecked, it could spread across the continent. It was the Divine Flame—capable of burning all things, eternal and ceaseless unless its wielder willed otherwise.
And yet, even such divine flame weakened in the face of the black-blue breath. However, due to its undying nature, it could never be truly extinguished. Even if reduced to the faintest ember, once it touched the essence of the breath, it could ignite it—causing even the void-touched breath to burn.
Divine flame and draconic breath, one seemingly capable of generating energy from nothing, the other of erasing it, were now locked in a stalemate. In the skies above Holy Mount, fire and breath clashed in a battle of attrition, with no victor in sight.
“The Seraphic Ascension ritual… it’s much faster than before. Less than twenty seconds to completion. Hmph… looks like they’ve improved it quite a bit…”
Far above the Starfall Sea, within the crystalline ice embedded in the undead dragon’s body, Fabrizio muttered coldly upon sensing the situation at Holy Mount through Inut’s senses. He then began his next move.
“Ice Soul Puppet…”
As he whispered, fragments of ice fell away from the dragon and gathered in front of it, condensing into a small, half-sized ice-dragon puppet. The undead dragon then flew off, closing its jaws. In its place remained a smaller soul-dragon, continuing to unleash breath upon Holy Mount.
The ice-dragon puppet flew to that spot and allowed the soul-dragon to possess it. It opened its jaws and maintained the black-blue breath. At the moment this clone appeared, the massive cold vortex previously generated by the dragon in the atmosphere began to shrink noticeably.
Though Holy Mount now had a Seraph as guardian, it still couldn’t match the undead dragon. A Seraph was at best an apostle in divine rank, while the undead dragon exceeded that. If Fabrizio truly intended to destroy Holy Mount, one Seraph would not be enough to stop him.
However, as a former cardinal himself, Fabrizio knew full well that the Church’s trump cards didn’t stop at the Divine Sentinel. Holy Mount held even deeper secrets—hard to activate, but still present. The undead dragon could not annihilate Holy Mount from long range, not with a Seraph guarding it. To do so, it would have to strike directly.
And if that deeper safeguard—only activated in times of true mortal peril—were triggered, Fabrizio wasn’t confident he could take Holy Mount quickly. He might even lose.
Thus, Fabrizio chose to have the undead dragon leave a clone behind, maintaining breath suppression to keep Holy Mount pinned down and unable to interfere. As long as he sustained the pressure, they couldn’t strike back, and his objective would be achieved.
Though the continuous orbital strikes from the Sacred Staff could not defeat the undead dragon, they could interfere with Fabrizio’s plans. Now, however, Holy Mount had to divert all its faith-channels to combat the breath attack. This suppressed the staff’s performance, since it too required those channels—eliminating Fabrizio’s concerns.
Though creating a medium-scale clone cost a significant portion of the undead dragon’s divinity and weakened it overall… what of it? Even so, this was still Inut—undefeated in the mortal world. With Holy Mount suppressed, who else could stop it—or rather, stop Fabrizio, who controlled it?
Thus, leaving behind a portion of its power to continue suppressing Holy Mount, the undead dragon flapped its wings and flew eastward once more.
Its destination was not land—but the cold, wide sea north of the Main Continent, between it and the Polar Ice Continent.
Its destination… was the Northern Sea, north of Frisland.