Chapter 1208
Lin Yun chanted an incantation, each Rule Sigil flying from his lips, like the hands of a giant weaving together runes and flames into a single force.
The result was a grotesque, massive sphere radiating terrifying, chaotic power. If not for the stabilizing force of the Law of Equilibrium, it would have exploded instantly...
When the convergence was complete, Lin Yun released the final sigil.
In that instant, the hundred-meter-wide sphere of chaos was sent flying as if kicked by a monstrous giant, smashing violently into the void.
At that moment, Lin Yun's time with the Law of Equilibrium ended—the spectral scales vanished, and the power of balance faded away.
The power of the Wheel of All Laws crashed down to the peak of True Spirit Artifact. Each time it borrowed strength from the void, it tempered itself with transcendent power.
Even as its power faded, the Wheel of All Laws slowly advanced in rank.
This is the true might of the Law of Equilibrium: every borrowed force is spent, but the day of repayment is endlessly postponed. It’s the power of rules, not a shortcut—the Wheel of All Laws never retains any of what it borrows.
Likewise, without the Law of Equilibrium’s stabilizing force, the sphere of chaos and violence finally erupted...
Alongside everyone’s strongest attacks, all the powers collided, tangled, and merged, triggering a terrifying transformation—everything collapsed inward...
All the forces collapsed in the void, condensing into a massive sphere of chaos barely a dozen meters across.
But at this point, it could shrink no further. It seemed to reach a critical threshold—the collapsed energy sphere erupted once more.
Suddenly, a shockwave burst forth, expanding like a frenzied, swelling sphere...
A dozen Sky Rank experts spat blood and were hurled backward, their shields ripped apart.
The winding river of black smoke was shredded, and the point where power poured into this world—a place even Sky Ranks couldn’t sense—no longer mattered...
The unleashed force shattered every bit of space within thousands of meters around it.
Space shattered, power shattered—everything was torn into the finest fragments.
The channel through which abyssal power poured into this land lost every node that could bear it—shattering instantly and severing Delrovana’s source of strength.
No one had time to breathe before, in the utterly collapsed void, a speck of black light appeared again. The glow spread, then rapidly expanded—Abyssal power erupted from within once more.
Suddenly, everyone was plunged into despair. If Delrovana's source of power couldn't be severed, even Emperor Norlick couldn't kill him. And now, everyone's strength was nearly spent—at least for a while, no one could muster that kind of force again.
"Foolish creatures! With your feeble power, you actually dream of severing my connection to an entire world? That is my domain—endless abyssal power is my foundation, my source. The very idea that you could cut me off is a cosmic joke!
No matter. Once I finish off Norlick, I'll teach you pathetic little worms what true fear and despair mean—slowly, one by one.
Hahahahaha..."
Delrovana laughed maniacally, as if he'd known all along. Instantly, everyone abandoned any last hope.
It's over. Completely over...
A group drifted in the void, faces etched with despair and bitterness they couldn't hide.
Behind Crompton, the Holy Light Wings dissolved into a scatter of milky-white feathers—the power of the holy light was nearly gone. He stared quietly at the restored channel of power, like a devout believer awaiting death.
Kros gripped his golden sword, shutting his eyes in despair.
"We've done all we can..."
The golden flames of battle qi slowly faded. Kros glanced back at the raging clash between Emperor Norlick and Delrovana. Temporarily deprived of his power source, Delrovana's strength hadn't dropped much—he just couldn't maintain his immortal form, and the wounds on him kept multiplying.
But everyone knew—once Delrovana's endless power source was restored, Emperor Norlick would never be able to kill him...
It meant all their previous efforts were worthless—completely wasted...
A crowd of gravely wounded mages and beastfolk stood silently, awaiting death. Now, no one clung to hope—dying at the hands of a God-Demon's soul was, in the end, no disgrace...
Morgan grinned, having lost all desire to keep living.
"At least I'm the only one in the Morgan Family who ever fought a God-Demon. When my descendants hear my name, they'll say their great Morgan ancestor once battled a God-Demon. Even if I lost in the end, it's still an honor, isn't it...?"
Rafael spat blood, yet smiled too.
"No, no—we should say we almost killed an ancient God-Demon. We were just a hair away, and though we all died, that's still a hero's fate. At least a thousand—no, three thousand bards should sing of our glorious deeds!
Maybe a thousand years from now, we'll be legends—just like those epic heroes in bardic tales...
At this point, having tried everything, there was still no result. But no one felt fear anymore—dying to a God-Demon wasn't shameful, especially when they'd almost outwitted one...
Morgan summoned his resurrected Dark Demon, stroking its head, but the creature seemed to resist his command.
Everyone would rather end themselves than fall into the hands of that lunatic.
Leon stared intently at the newly reformed, expanding spatial node. A tired smile crept onto his face, but when he glanced to the side, he was startled.
"Heavens, what are you all doing? Our mission is complete—why are you still trying to snap your own necks?"
The people nearby froze; Morgan let out a sigh.
"Archmage Leon, there's no need to persuade us. I'd rather have my Dark Demon crush my skull than fall into that madman's hands.
Death isn't the worst fate—if we end up with that lunatic, even dying will be impossible..."
Crompton's face was veiled in a sacred glow. It seemed this was the bravest moment of his life, perfectly in line with the teachings of the Holy Light.
"All who believe in the Holy Light will never bow to evil. My only wish is to return to the embrace of the Light—there's nothing tragic about that.
Archmage Leon, I appreciate your kindness, but this is the end of the road—nothing can stop it now."
The orcs, already resolved to die, ignored Leon completely. They kept focusing their battle energy, igniting it, pouring their lives into the flames until nothing remained.
Leon couldn't help but laugh and cry. After all this effort, others might not know that even if the portal's space was shattered and erased, it couldn't be destroyed for good—but Leon knew.
This space is actually the realm of gods and demons. As long as they aren't dead, if a part is broken, it will quickly recover.
The space that was torn apart and erased will soon recover, and the portal attached to it will be restored as the space heals.
All they could do was temporarily sever Delrovana's power source. If, during that window, Emperor Norlick could kill Delrovana, that would be ideal.
But now, it was obvious Emperor Norlick couldn't finish Delrovana off in such a short time—so Leon had to rely on his backup plan.
Outside the Sacred Mountain, beneath the pitch-black sky tinged with red, a massive warship sped toward the mountain. Its ancient, weathered hull looked like a ghost ship magnified countless times—silent and imposing.
Tattered battle flags fluttered atop the ship's masts. Along its sides and prow, dark openings slid open, and huge mana crystal cannons extended outward.
On the deck, squads of Dark Elves, Forgefire Dwarves, and Ash Orcs bustled about like industrious bees, constantly cleaning the deck.
"Come on, everyone, put your backs into it! The Master is calling us—if we don’t fix these blasted cracks in the deck, we’ll embarrass ourselves in front of him!"
"Hey, idiot, this job should be for you Forgefire Dwarves! Why are we Dark Elves patching the deck? Damn it, your brain must be fried."
"Get to work! No more whining! Are we really going to sail this wreck of a Dauntless to meet the Master? At least make it look presentable!"
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In the captain's cabin, squads of Dark Elves and Forgefire Dwarves bustled in and out, relaying streams of information.
Elsa stood stern-faced, gazing out at the environment beyond the cabin.
"Accelerate! The Master's orders are to reach our destination at top speed and destroy anything that dares block the Dauntless."
"Lady Elsa, there's a spatial barrier on the mountain eighteen kilometers ahead—some kind of force is obstructing our path..."
A busy Dark Elf shouted the report, but Elsa cut him off with a decisive order.
"Mana crystal cannons—fire! Blast a breach! Dauntless, ram through! Remember—the Master's command is to reach our destination at full speed and annihilate any obstacle!"
Thunderous explosions echoed in the sky as thick beams of light shot from the Dauntless, pounding toward the Sacred Mountain.
A dozen kilometers from the mountain's core, a transparent shield blocked the beams, bursting into shattered fireworks in the void.
Cracks appeared in the void, and the transparent shield was covered in dense fractures.
"Calculations complete: the barrier is fractured. Dauntless can ram through directly—speed reduction negligible. We can enter."
"Ram through!"
The Dauntless's massive hull shot forward like a beast in flight. An oval shield rose ahead, but the ship crashed into the transparent barrier without slowing.
A crisp crack echoed through the sky. Kilometers of space shattered, fragments scattering, and the Dauntless barreled through the debris into the Sacred Mountain's domain.
The towering Sacred Mountain loomed ahead. The scene here was utterly different from the outside—black smoke filled the air, rivers of magma snaked across the ground, and hordes of abyssal creatures battled and roared below.
With the Dauntless's arrival, the abyssal creatures below raised their arms and roared in fury, fearless.
Halfway up the Sacred Mountain, five Demon Overlords revealed their massive true forms, blocking the Dauntless's path.
"The target coordinates are inside this mountain. Use the Hand of Destruction to blast a breach here."
Elsa, as always, calmly issued order after order.
In the weapons bay, a Forgefire Dwarf with a half-meter beard leapt several meters high, then kicked another dwarf out of his way.
"Idiot, move! Damn it, hurry up! Finally, we get to test the Hand of Destruction. Hell, get moving!
Those stupid demons picked the worst possible time to show up—no, they're just unlucky. Elsa doesn't even care about them.
Yeah, all we need is to blast a breach..."
The Forgefire Dwarves, still tuning the mana crystal cannons, went wild at the words 'Hand of Destruction.' They dropped everything and rushed to prep the superweapon.
"Damn it, coordinates—who's watching the coordinates?"
Mana crystals? Where the hell are the mana crystals? Dauntless barely has any power left—the Hand of Destruction doesn't have enough for a full blast. Idiot, you want us to drop out of the sky?
If you screw up the Master's orders, Elsa will skin you all alive.
Twenty percent power is the limit, idiot—I said twenty percent! Stuff all the mana crystals in.
Yes! All of them! Damn it, is your brain demon-tainted or just turned to magma?
Hurry up, we're running out of time!"
The muzzle of the Hand of Destruction slowly extended from the Dauntless, aiming at the roaring demons.
As the Forgefire Dwarf slammed the activation rune, the muzzle of the Hand of Destruction became a black hole, swallowing all surrounding light into spears that collapsed inward.
The Dauntless barreled toward the Sacred Mountain. With eight kilometers left, Elsa asked coldly:
"What are those idiot red-skinned dwarves doing now? In ten seconds, we'll crash into that mountain!"
At Dauntless's speed, ten seconds would bring a collision with the Sacred Mountain, whose massive body—even as rock—would greatly slow the ship.
And that conflicted with Leon’s orders...