Chapter 336: Chaotic Battle (Part 3)

  The majestic and mighty Archangel now seemed like an incredibly fragile glass object struck by a great hammer. It shattered completely, collapsing into countless tiny fragments. These fragments then scattered into the air, disintegrating into countless white specks of light that rose upwards, transforming into a fine drizzle of light that slowly permeated the entire The Radiant Citadel. Pure and serene white magic spread along with it.

  This was the same as the white rain of light the Archangel had summoned during the battle against the fire phoenix, only this time, the rain of light formed from the Archangel's own body was denser and more intense. The white magic, brimming with life, surged through the space. If not for the howls of the orcs, surging with killing intent, and the great battle all around with rising flames and the glint of swords and blades, this sacred and serene aura, full of vitality, would have been like heaven.

  "Universal Redemption?" Stephen raised an eyebrow. "...Meteor Shower, Guardian Angel Aura, Dimensional Gate... What a rare sight today, to actually see four legendary top-tier spells."

  Inham said: "This is the opportunity I've been waiting for. Please, begin."

  Stephen didn't move. He just watched the rain of light falling from the sky and smiled faintly. "You even predicted that Magnus would desperately use this white magic Forbidden Spell at the end? I truly admire you... I have never admired a person like this..."

  "Not at all. For him to hold on until he completely withstood the Meteor Shower and then destroy the Dimensional Gate, that was already beyond my expectations. I actually thought he would save some strength for himself and be done after casting Universal Redemption." Inham's voice was already a bit urgent. "Please hurry and begin, Teacher Stephen. Magnus looks like his oil is spent and his lamp is dry. This Universal Redemption won't last very long. I'll go get the staff for you right away..."

  "Don't you worry, there will be no problem." Stephen smiled faintly, turned, and walked towards the basement.

  Inham took a deep look at Stephen's back, then turned and ran in another direction.

  Very soon, Stephen returned to the basement. Javi was still lying motionless on the bed, and the two Death Knights were still piled in the corner.

  Even in the air of the basement, the rich white magic from the Universal Redemption permeated everything. This was a single-school Forbidden Spell of white magic, far surpassing the healing spells of any white magic adept. Originally, casting this ultimate area-of-effect healing spell required the caster to burn their own life force, but now it was using the immense mental power and white magic released from the Archangel's dissipation, comparable to the magic power of dozens, even hundreds, of top-tier mages like a Pope.

  The Archangel was already gone, and the Pope was unconscious. The spell no longer had a caster's control. But the immense white magic permeating the space persisted. These powers would resonate with anyone who could use white magic, automatically healing any wounds on their body. As long as one was not dead, they could recover before such a vast healing Forbidden Spell.

  In such an environment, the modification surgery on Javi could, of course, be carried out easily. All the life force within Javi's body had been thrown into chaos by Sandro, so even the Universal Redemption could not heal him automatically. But with an expert in human anatomy who was a Necromancer present, that was another matter entirely.

  But Stephen frowned as he looked at Javi, not seizing this moment to begin the operation immediately. He was hesitating.

  Although he had only known this person, Inham, for a few days, his understanding of him was by no means small. From what he had heard from other Necromancers about the deeds of this junior who had once served as acting guild master, one word could describe him: profound. And from witnessing everything on the plaza just now, his impression deepened even further: unfathomable.

  Things that seemed impossible were happening, yet under his tight, step-by-step arrangements, they were proceeding exactly as he wished. And yet, he had never stood in the foreground to draw attention. Moreover, his stance had always seemed ambiguous, with no particular desires or direction for others to grasp. It seemed that as long as an opportunity allowed, he would do anything and was capable of anything—a person who was definitely not reassuring. As an ally, he was like this, and now their relationship was merely one of mutual use and cooperation. If he were to become an enemy in the future, it would be even more unbearable. Even if he wanted to deal with you, he would never let you know, and when you found out, it would be at the final moment when knowing was useless.

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  And the son he wanted to heal was absolutely no easy lamp. If he was healed, the relationship of mutual use between himself and his son would come to an end. It would be hard to say what would happen after that.

  It was necessary to find a good way to keep these two father and son restrained. Of course, it would be even better to turn the tables and become the master. But where could one find such a method and opportunity? The key was that it seemed he had to heal this crippled son now. Stephen frowned, reached out, and patted Javi's face. He sighed and said, "Kid, you're lucky. I never learned Valthor's unique skill. I really wanted you as my subordinate... but there's no way now..."

  "There is a way." A voice suddenly sounded.

  "Who?" Stephen leaped up as if he'd been stabbed in the backside, his movements so agile they did not match his age. A cluster of dark magic fluctuated around him.

  On the plaza, the orcs had just recovered from the shock of the Archangel's sword strike. The god-like, immense power had only stunned them for a moment before they renewed their furious roars, scattering in all directions to kill.

  Suddenly, in the rear hall of the Hall of Light, several priests began to strike a giant crystal chime. It was a bell that had never rung since the founding of The Radiant Citadel, a chime used specifically to call for aid.

  No matter how loud the chime was, it could not be heard outside of Celeste. But within the various cathedrals of every nation, including the Magic Academy, there was a great bell that could resonate with it. At this moment, they were all ringing loudly along with it. And as long as one heard this chime, all elite forces of the religious nations would rush to Celeste in the shortest time possible. That would be an army of a hundred thousand.

  But the fastest vanguard of this hundred-thousand-strong army would only arrive in half a day. And The Radiant Citadel had already become a field of Shura. Everywhere were screams, the roars of orcs, explosions, corpses, blood, and killing, all mixed into a boiling slurry. Even with the sacred rain of light from the Universal Redemption continuing to fall from the sky, it could not diminish in the slightest the stench of slaughter and blood that permeated the entire The Radiant Citadel.

  Although the Dimensional Gate had been forcibly severed by the Archangel, a large number of Half-Orcs and Scale Oxen had already passed through the spatial gate onto the plaza. Under Lord Bolgan's command and arrangements, the troop deployment used the fastest and most efficient method, and the first to enter were all the most elite and ferocious orcs.

  None of the orcs' weapons were not immensely powerful. The greatsword in Luken's hand, reforged from the claws of a Behemoth, was considered one of the more slender ones. A slash from it, if the opponent had enough strength and their weapon was hard and large enough, could usually be parried for a moment, but then the weapon would shatter and the person would be sent flying back, spraying blood. And the giant meteor hammers and chain flails in the hands of other werewolves were heavy weapons that swords and blades could not withstand at all. Usually, one strike would directly turn a person into a blur of blood and flesh.

  Hundreds of Ogres, covered from head to toe in steel armor, were mobile fortresses. Although they did not move quickly, the swordsmen and priests were completely unable to stop them. Armor half an inch thick could already withstand all attacks except those from a Temple Knight. The bloodthirsty and ferocious nature innate to these monsters had been completely aroused. Howling, they swung giant warhammers and battle-axes weighing hundreds of kilograms without any particular pattern. A single hit would make a person burst apart like a figure made of mud, becoming fragments or being sent flying after being completely deformed.

  Two particularly large Ogres were not wearing heavy armor. They were mixed among the Ogres, waving strange staffs in their hands and casting auxiliary magic spells. These were Ogre warlocks that Oufu had trained in this short period. With the support magic of these two warlocks, the other heavy Ogres killed with an even more unstoppable, destructive force.

  Boom! A Thunderblast Bomb exploded on an Ogre's head. The fragments of its armor and its head exploded into the sky like a firework. The Ogre's headless, giant body continued to charge forward for a few more staggering steps before it finally crashed to the ground, with blood spraying far from its neck. Only high-level magic could deal effective damage to such a heavily protected monster.

  But the high-level mage who cast this spell also exposed his position. Two werewolves and a lizardman charged directly at him. Fortunately, over a dozen swordsmen and priests had already gathered around the mage, barely holding them off. Then the mage cast another Thunderblast Bomb, blowing another Ogre to the ground with a wail.

  Boom! Two Scale Oxen charged from an angle. The ten or so swordsmen protecting the mage were sent scattering. The mage couldn't even let out a scream before being trampled into a pulp of flesh under the hooves. Then the Half-Orc on the ox's back pulled the reins. The two Scale Oxen opened their mouths, and a yellow, corrosive gas sprayed out. The two charging swordsmen screamed, their bodies smoking as they rolled on the ground.

  Although these two-meter-tall giant animals were herbivores, even an Ogre was no match for them, let alone a human. These fierce beasts rampaged through The Radiant Citadel, many charging directly into the large buildings, trampling the priests inside before smashing through the walls and charging out.

  Although the two Behemoths had not yet reached their full size, they were already five or six meters tall, and their indestructible claws were enough to tear through any armor. Under the command of Half-Orc beastmasters, they waved their giant claws and charged everywhere. The swordsmen and priests were torn to shreds like waste paper before these giant beasts.

  The plaza had already become a world for the orcs and beasts. Even with the healing rain from the sky mending wounds, the swordsmen were still completely routed.

  Suddenly, a dazzling streak of light flashed past. A Behemoth, along with the Half-Orc on its back, was instantly turned to charcoal under a Blazing Might Shot. Then, in several other directions, the light of high-level magic also began to flare. This was, after all, The Radiant Citadel, the foundation that the Church had managed for hundreds of years. The people, awakened from the sudden turn of events, had already begun to organize effective suppression and counterattacks.