Chapter 541 - 489: Beneath the Firmament, The Battle of Godfall

Chapter 541: Chapter 489: Beneath the Firmament, The Battle of Godfall

In mid-air, the blood-mist swirling around Roland was even denser than before, practically forming a churning, dark-red cloak.

At the edge of the cloak-like blood-mist, two broad, ethereal wing membranes sprouted from his shoulder blades. They were more solid than before, hovering somewhere between energy and physical form, their edges shimmering with a bronze metallic sheen. With every breath and surge of Power, they slowly flapped and expanded.

These weren’t complete, fully-muscled dragon wings. Rather, they were a terrifying manifestation—a projection of his boiling Dragon Race Bloodline and the Blood Qi ignited by his Mad Soul, a sign that his Power had reached a critical point.

Every slight vibration stirred the surrounding air and the chaotic flows of Energy, emitting a low roar like a brewing Storm.

His Dragonification had clearly deepened.

"He..."

Duraga gripped his War Axe so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He longed to charge in and fight alongside him, but his reason screamed that the clash of incomprehensible Power in the sky was far beyond his ability to interfere.

If he joined rashly, he would likely be unable to withstand even the aftershocks. He would only become a burden to Roland.

"We can’t just stand here and watch."

Avril’s voice rang out. It held the clear, cool tone typical of an Elf, yet it was laced with unshakeable resolve.

Her gaze remained fixed on the two figures in the sky, her emerald eyes reflecting the crimson light and silver glow.

"A battle like this..."

Bronson’s face was pale, his voice hoarse.

"How can we possibly intervene? That’s no longer a realm mortal Power can touch."

"No."

Avril slowly shook her head, her gaze seeming to pierce through Yemiga’s perfect, silvery-white form to see its very essence.

"If he is a ’God,’ then... the great power of the Gods... should... be able to exert some form of ’restraint’ on him."

As she finished speaking, an incredibly subtle yet chilling aura began to emanate from her, instantly making the hairs on Duraga’s and Galvis’s necks stand on end.

She closed her eyes, seemingly engaged in a difficult communion with an "existence" inside her—one she loathed, yet had no choice but to confront.

Her slender fingers gripped her Longbow tightly, her knuckles turning white from the pressure, revealing the intense struggle within.

’Rose...’

The name flashed through her mind, bringing with it a wave of visceral nausea and a hatred that ran bone-deep.

Spider Queen Rose, the dark sovereign of the Zor Elves, the very embodiment of conspiracy and betrayal, stood in absolute opposition to the Surface Elves, who revered nature, light, and harmony.

This Divine Favor in her blood, which clung to her like a Curse, was a shame she had spent her life trying to suppress, forget, and even wishing for its Stripping.

But now...

’I need Power... Power that can touch the Gods... even if it comes from the Abyss, from the being I loathe most!’

As if in answer to this cry of desperation and resolve from the depths of her soul, the whispers lurking in her bloodline—cold, slick, and filled with both malice and temptation—suddenly grew clear.

Avril’s body gave an almost imperceptible tremble.

She felt her warm, smooth connection to Natural Magic Power being severed, as if cut off by a cold, sticky web.

In its place, a cold, viscous Power surged up through her veins—a Power carrying the cloying, sweet scent of poison and the endless Echoes of Darkness, attempting to fill her entire being.

On the surface of her skin, extremely faint, almost invisible dark-purple markings flickered into existence for a moment, like living things, before vanishing.

Deep within her emerald eyes, a profound and unsettling pinpoint of dark-red light quietly ignited.

A pressure radiated from her, a mixture of deadly temptation and blasphemous aura. It caused Duraga and Galvis to subconsciously take half a step back, their faces showing alarm and uncertainty.

Avril snapped her eyes open.

Her eyes, once as clear as a forest lake, had changed. Her left eye remained emerald but was now as sharp as a knife.

Her right eye, however, had turned a bottomless, dark red. The pupil seemed to have become a spinning spiderweb—cold and indifferent, reflecting a dimension of Darkness that did not belong to the mortal world.

She raised her Longbow.

There was no Arrow.

But the fingers she used to draw the Bowstring were wreathed in tendrils of purplish-black energy that writhed like living Shadows.

This energy rapidly condensed and stretched, forming an "Arrow of Nothingness" between the Bowstring and the bow’s limb, one seemingly woven from concentrated Darkness, venom, and the Law of betrayal.

The tip of the Arrow was not aimed at Yemiga himself. Instead, it targeted several extremely subtle "Energy nodes" within the stable, flowing, silvery-white Space-Time Force Field surrounding him—nodes that flickered and shifted as he exercised his Authority.

These were the "junctures" in the operating system of Yemiga’s Power. Avril had pinpointed them by combining an Elf’s keen Perception of Energy with the perverse insight granted by Rose’s Divine Favor—an insight that held a natural inclination to erode and destroy all things of "Order" and "radiance."

She loathed this Power and despised its source.

But now, she had become the bow. She channeled this Cursed power from the dark God into the arrow, pouring all of her hatred and resolve into this single shot.

"In the name of that which I despise..."

Avril’s voice was like the shattering of icicles, laced with a tremor she could barely suppress and an ice-cold killing intent.

"...I bestow upon you ’Disintegration’!"

The Bowstring went slack.