The cataclysmic explosion of the Fusion Arrow was visible for miles around, prompting even Morgal to momentarily turn her glowing eyes toward the blinding flash in the night sky.
Nonetheless, she felt not the slightest interest in the destruction of her Void Guardian. What truly stirred her twisted senses was the subterranean, crystalline ambush—and the soul-crushing shock that had just etched itself across Venae's face.
Throughout her hunt, there was never a moment when Morgal did not indulge in her sadistic tendencies.
It began with Melivek, the seasoned guard who was well aware that children who disappeared during the festival were seldom found alive. Yet, driven by a desperate hope to save a life, he searched the underbrush, only to find Morgal lying in wait.
Then it was the Border Captain, whose only fatal flaw was her compassionate willingness to personally attend to and comfort a "lost, terrified" little girl.
Next came Beninar, who rushed blindly into the medical tent the very moment he heard his beloved Captain's armor crash to the ground, naively believing that the noise signaled she needed his assistance.
Finally, there was Anastasia, who was granted a fleeting, agonizing moment of belief that she might actually fire a signal flare to warn the tribe of the ambush before being torn apart.
All of these fallen warriors had possessed something akin to what Venae felt as he watched that ultimate fusion arrow soar into the sky.
Hope.
For most mortals, there is no greater despair than witnessing the light extinguish in the darkness. Yet for Morgal, there was no greater, more intoxicating joy than being the one to personally snuff out that flame.
Because Morgal had forcefully extracted the souls from her Void Guardian puppets, the hollow, crystalline shells now operated solely according to her deepest, darkest desires. And right now, within the devastated plaza of the village, the horrifying aftermath of the beast's scheme to satiate its puppeteer's insatiable hunger for despair was about to unfold, just as the smoke in the sky finally began to dissipate.
---
"Is it dead?" Ragina inquired, her voice laced with fatigue.
The three remaining leaders were huddled on the crumbled rooftop of the mainhall, encircled by a luminous, pressurized water barrier. Ragina knelt on the shattered tiles, her hands hovering anxiously over the unconscious Neihina. She pushed her Divine Stage Water Magic to its absolute limits, striving to mend the catastrophic wound inflicted by the crystal on the archer's chest.
"I-I am not sure," Venae replied, his voice hoarse, as his sole remaining fist shook with tension.
Though the fate of the crystalline Void Guardian remained uncertain, they were acutely aware of one grim reality: Ellomon's spiritual essence had completely vanished from their world.
His presence was no longer among them.
Venae slowly turned his vacant gaze from the dissipating smoke in the sky to Neihina, who leaned against him. "How... is she?" he asked.
"She can survive," Ragina responded through gritted teeth, her expression fraught with tension. "But only if Elder Wenya's life-sustaining formations can assist me. I lack the mana to stabilize her core on my own."
Venae remained silent; it was an impossible request.
The thunderous explosions from the magical battles echoing from the left side of the devastated plaza served as a stark reminder that the Elders were still engaged in a desperate and deadly struggle for survival against the remaining Void Guardians.
---
BOOM! Elder Mushai's flame-infused battleaxe slammed into the fractured earth, scattering molten debris as the Void Guardian smoothly evaded, narrowly missing the lethal blow once more.
It's still not retaliating... Mushai thought, clenching his teeth in frustration.
Initially, the seasoned Elder struggled to comprehend the situation. Regardless of his actions or the intensity with which he projected his Divine Stage aura, the Void Guardian resolutely refused to reveal its true power in response. However, the moment he attempted to retreat to the Mainhall to aid the Chieftains, the creature would immediately obstruct his path.
That was until he experienced the horrifying moment when Ellomon's spiritual presence disappeared from existence.
It knows I am the strongest physically among us, Mushai realized with a sickening feeling in his stomach. It's intentionally stalling, isolating us so its counterpart can eliminate the leaders one by one...
It was the only strategic explanation that fit. This was further confirmed when he glanced at his wife, Elder Wenya, who was embroiled in her own battle nearby, seemingly subjected to the same delaying tactic.
What do I do...?
Time was critical. If he didn't find a way to break this deadlock immediately, the others would not survive until the Queen's return.
To worsen matters, the smoke from the massive explosion above the mainhall hadn't fully dissipated, leaving the outcome of the elemental fusion completely uncertain. The absolute best-case scenario was that both Ellomon and the Crystalline Beast had perished together.
As for the alternative... Mushai dared not contemplate it, his eyes shifting anxiously toward the remaining Phoenix civilians who were frantically fleeing down the mountain paths.
WHOOSHH.
The abrupt, violent gust of wind descending from the sky forced the Elder to look upward. What he saw was far worse than his worst fears. This wasn't merely a failure. This was an apocalyptic disaster.
"It can't be..." Mushai gasped. The ancient warrior's hands visibly shook—a terrifying sight, given that he was the oldest surviving veteran of the Tribe, a man who had faced Demons, Humans, and Dragons without ever breaking a sweat.
But this... this was unprecedented.
The ultimate fusion arrow hadn't just failed to kill the target. The Crystalline Beast had survived the devastating assault by weaponizing the explosion to multiply violently.
Not into two.
Not into ten.
Nearly a hundred Silver Void Guardians now filled the night sky, hovering like a legion of death.
What caused Elder Mushai's heart to sink was not just the overwhelming numbers. It was the absolute defiance of reason. Typically, only Water and Shadow Magic users could create physical clones of themselves, and it came with an unavoidable cost: the user's total power was equally divided among the copies, rendering them virtually useless for offensive combat, merely serving to confuse an enemy or anchor a grand formation.
Yet, this fundamental law of the cosmos did not apply to these eldritch creatures. The crushing, suffocating spiritual pressure emanating from every single one of the hundred clones hovering above was exactly the same.
A hundred Peak Divine Stage monsters.
---
As the Elders and Tribe Leaders felt the last remnants of hope dissipate, Morgal was utterly exhilarated.
Safely hidden within the trees, she released a wicked, melodic laugh that reverberated through the night.
"Yes! Yes! That's the exact expression I wanted to see!" she exclaimed, her small legs kicking in sheer delight.
An intense urge surged within her to personally dismantle the protective barrier surrounding the village. She was indifferent to the risk of alerting Libinea to the invasion prematurely; her sole desire was to descend and witness their devastated expressions firsthand. She longed to meet their eyes at the moment they comprehended that a hundred Void Guardians were merely the least of their worries.
For a True Divinity had been quietly among them all along.
Suddenly, the chilling, inscrutable image of Raiking's void-black eyes flashed in her mind.
"No! No! I cannot do that! I cannot do that!"
She repeated the words to herself, clutching her head and fiercely resisting the temptation to give in to her most profound, dark desires.