Chapter 290: The Eye of Judgment

Lethria confirmed his guess.

Cassian immediately called through the Lord’s Heart.

"Veyra, assemble everyone at home. Celia, Sylvara, Rhea, the Faerie Dragons—prepare to move out. Aurelia, come back."

Even with the naval campaign underway, he wanted her here. He paid for the passage through Ghost One’s existing Gate, bringing her back from the fleet. Veyra remained in the Domain while the others went with him to reinforce Lethria.

Before long, Cassian could see the enemy.

Three years of memorizing monster records at school had been tedious work. At moments like this, he was grateful for every page.

The Demon stood over ten meters tall. Two horns rose above a slender body wrapped in black robes, and thick demonic miasma clung to him. A bronze book floated before his chest, four meters long and three meters wide. Even at a distance, Cassian could feel the power coming from it.

"A Demon Justiciar. Good."

He let out a breath. A Mythic Greater Demon that had mastered the Laws of Space would have been far more troublesome.

Dozens of Legendary Demons surrounded the Justiciar, their bodies taking all kinds of monstrous forms. Thousands more of Epic and Rare Quality crowded behind them. The Abyss Gate was still disgorging reinforcements.

After two months as a profitable hunting ground, it was finally showing its teeth. A wave like this would have crippled almost any other Province.

"How strong is a Justiciar?" Aurelia asked.

Her eyes were already bright with the desire to fight. Demons offended everything she stood for.

"A Mythic spellcaster, close to an Extreme troop," Cassian said. "Very powerful. But he isn’t difficult to deal with."

Rhea understood at once.

"So we hit him head-on."

"Exactly. The nine Praetorians will cover the Abyss Gate with Aegis Fold. Don’t let him escape through it. The other Nine-Stars will surround the Justiciar and kill him. Stormlance, everyone else—clear the remaining Demons."

The Justiciar seemed to sense their arrival.

He lifted one hand with an almost leisurely grace. The bronze book opened to its third page.

"Faerie Dragon. Since you refuse to serve the great Vorlath, you may die."

A black scythe dozens of meters long flew from the page.

Lethria’s Void Entanglement snapped apart. The blade crossed hundreds of meters like a streak of black lightning, leaving her barely enough time to use her strongest means of escape.

"Phase Wander!"

Her body slipped out of normal space.

The scythe followed.

It carried no spatial attribute. Its sheer power was enough to tear through the space she had entered.

The phase around Lethria burst like a bubble. She threw her head aside at the last instant, avoiding the killing blow, but one enormous wing spun away from her body. More than ten meters of severed wing fell toward the ground.

Her cry cut through the battlefield.

Even Cassian’s strongest fighters drew sharp breaths. Faerie Dragons were Extreme spellcasters, not defensive troops. That much they knew. But cutting straight through Phase Wander was another matter.

Even Celia would need a strike built up through Sword Nurturing to surpass it.

Vorlath had been holding back.

Cassian’s brows rose. This was no wild Demon. The Justiciar was a troop, strengthened by a Lord’s Command.

The bronze pages were already moving again.

"A sector that opened only a few months ago, and so many powerful fighters." Vorlath’s voice rolled over the field. "Human Lord, I admit it. You have surprised me."

The fourth page flashed. Then the seventh.

"Demonic Calamity!"

"Abyss Descent!"

Demons poured from the fourth page. Rare Six-Armed Serpent Demons writhed among larger shapes, while Legendary Balors strode out through the torrent. Their numbers passed ten thousand.

Overhead, daylight faded.

Cassian looked up. An image of another world spread across ten kilometers of sky and pressed down upon the battlefield. Molten rivers wound through blood-red earth. Barren mountains rose behind them.

A corner of the Abyss had appeared above Divine Province.

[Abyssal influence detected.]

[All attributes of you and your subordinate units reduced by 30% — maximum suppression.]

"A world projection, cast that easily..." Cassian watched the great bronze volume. "That Abyssal Grimoire must be Mythic too."

Grimoires of that kind were favored by powerful Demon spellcasters. This one had brought an entire battlefield under its influence.

Vorlath’s fighting strength was already comparable to Blood Emperor Mordane’s.

Below the projection, the Demons’ eyes burned red. They surged forward in a frenzy, driven by the familiar presence of their own world.

It still could not make up for the gap in their strength.

Celia raised her sword. A hundred streaks of Sword Energy shot into the advancing horde, each carrying a faint golden gleam.

A hundred foreheads opened.

Rare Demons fell. So did the Legendaries among them.

For a moment, even her allies looked toward her.

Sword Energy was only a Grade-D skill. In Celia’s hands, it had reached Transcendence. Sword Intent and the Metalroot strengthened it further. Any one of those casual strikes could rival a Grade-A skill at Greater Mastery.

Vorlath stared at the falling bodies.

He had more than ten thousand Demons. What use were numbers if she could kill them like that?

And she was only one of the enemies closing in.

"Legendary Nine-Star. All of them?"

Was this truly a newcomer sector?

Only a few seconds had passed since the battle began, and he was already thinking of retreat.

His hands did not slow.

Another page turned.

"Eye of Judgment!"

A narrow eye, ten meters long, formed in the air. Its gaze settled on Celia.

"I sentence your flesh to wither. Your soul to perish. Your—"

Celia gave a stifled groan.

Her skin shriveled. The light in her eyes dimmed.

The Justiciar’s signature curse could not be avoided once its target was chosen. Of all the enemies within his reach, she had shown the greatest killing power. Cassian himself had stayed ten kilometers away from the fighting.

"Celia!"

Rhea’s sword flashed from her position beside the Abyss Gate.

Sword of Space.

The strike appeared against Vorlath’s chest the instant she swung. Blue-green swordlight drove a meter into his protective miasma before the defense finally stopped it.

He flinched.

"Sword of Space?"

What was wrong with the Lords in this sector?

Worse, the Human Hero struck by his Eye of Judgment was still alive.

His desire to withdraw grew stronger. What happened next settled it.

Withered and pale, Celia charged the Demons in front of her. She made no attempt to retreat or preserve her failing body. Her attack carried her straight into their weapons.

A death notice reached Cassian.

At home, the Fountain verified her belonging and death. Its stored Life Energy was sufficient. Cassian authorized the reconstruction, consuming the required Life Energy and Battle Essence, then paid to open a Gate back to the battlefield.

Vorlath had barely begun to savor his success when Celia stepped out of it.

The same Hero. The same strength. Whole, alive, and looking at him with murderous eyes.

"Hero resurrection? A revival mark? A Fountain of Life?"

The elegance had gone from his voice.

He rose into the air and fled toward the Abyss Gate.

"Void Entanglement!"

"Thorn Overgrowth!"

"Crystal Ray!"

Bindings struck him from every direction. Each came from a Legendary Nine-Star fighter. His flight slowed sharply as chains of distorted space tightened around him and thorns crowded his path.

"Demon Scythe!"

The Grimoire’s pages fluttered. Two enormous scythes appeared together, cutting through the bonds in front of him.

Golden shapes dropped out of the sky.

Several Blood Crystal Bats had begun their dive. A hundred meters above Vorlath, their bodies flowed into Human form.

The Crystal Maidens were only a meter and sixty centimeters tall, their bodies gleaming as though cast from Golden Radiance Crystal. Each formed a blade ten meters long and brought it down with the force of her fall.

The miasma could bear no more.

It split beneath the blades. Vorlath twisted desperately, but one strike caught him.

A horn broke away.

"No! My horn!"

For a Demon, a broken horn was a disgrace that would last a lifetime. Vorlath had a more urgent problem now: whether that lifetime would last another moment.