https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-584-The-Reputation-That-Spreads-The-Illusion-of-Shadows/13677383/
Chapter 583: The Finality of Battle
“Get out of my way!” Batu Skullcrusher roared to the heavens, his massive Battle Axe swinging in a blur of motion, slashing through the air like a storm. Crescent-shaped waves of Bloodlight spiraled around his body, crackling with violent energy.
“Watch out!” Ria snapped, her dark wings flaring behind her as she surged upward from the ground. Silver armor, forged from divine energy, enveloped her form, shielding her as she dodged the relentless onslaught.
Aid, meanwhile, braced himself with a War Hammer in hand, his body shielded by a thick, turtle-shell-like slab of stone. It absorbed the force of Batu’s blows, shattering into jagged fragments that rained down like shrapnel, carved with deep, gash-like scars.
But the other Dwarves and Ogres fared far worse. The Ogres Chieftain, now a mindless engine of slaughter, tore through the battlefield with indiscriminate fury, a living meat grinder. Where he passed, bodies were torn apart, blood spraying high into the sky in crimson geysers.
The Ogres screamed in terror, begging for mercy—but Batu’s rage knew no distinction. Dwarves, Elves, even his own kin—none were spared. All were reduced to shredded meat, scattered across the field.
As the massacre raged, the totems etched across Batu’s body twisted and writhed, becoming more grotesque with each passing moment. His aura surged upward, as if some unseen maw were devouring the blood and spiritual essence of those he’d slain.
Against such a tide, even the Dwarf warriors faltered, falling one by one, their lives extinguished.
Seeing this, Aid’s eyes burned crimson, a wildfire of fury igniting within. “Ogres! I will tear your wretched life force apart—by any means necessary!”
The King of the Dwarves leapt into the air, unleashing every ounce of his strength. His War Hammer came down with crushing force, aiming to shatter the Chieftain’s skull.
At that moment, the earth erupted. Sand and dust spiraled upward like a sandstorm, and countless razor-sharp stone shards shot through the air like arrows.
But Batu’s strength far exceeded Aid’s estimation. As the hammer descended, the King’s eyes widened in shock.
Clang!
The sound of metal meeting metal rang out—deafening, jarring, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The ground trembled again, dust whipping up into a frenzy.
A massive Great Axe descended from above, and with a single arm, Batu deflected Aid’s blow. The force sent the King flying backward, crashing into the earth.
“How… is this possible?” Aid gasped, his hands numb, his palms splitting open as blood poured from his cracked fingers. The sheer power of the blow had shattered his grip.
Yet still, the stone arrows rained down, peppering the Ogres Chieftain’s massive frame with wounds—some deep, some shallow. But Batu ignored them entirely.
Grinning fiercely, he leapt into the air, Battle Axe raised high, intent on finishing off the King of the Dwarves in a single, decisive strike.
At that moment, a voice pierced the sky—cold, sharp, like the judgment of Heaven’s Mountain.
“Ogres! You have slaughtered the innocent, invaded the Dwarven homeland. Your crimes are unforgivable!”
“By the name of the Avenger Knight, no mercy shall be shown to the wicked!”
All heads turned skyward. Even Batu paused, eyes lifting to the heavens. A mark of hatred—burned into his very soul—flared above his head.
There, suspended in the air, was a Half-Elf Holy Knight. Her black wings unfurled like a storm, and in her hands, she gripped a Silver Sword with both palms. Her eyes—calm, emotionless—glowed with an eerie, unblinking light.
Her voice rang out, final and absolute.
“Oath of Utter Destruction!”
Instantly, a halo of twilight radiance bloomed behind her. The sky darkened, the clouds painted in deep orange—like a dying sunset.
And then, the true power of Dawnblade revealed itself.
A colossal, shimmering sword of pure Radiance—like a blade forged from the heavens—descended from the clouds, slicing through the air. It struck the Ogres Chieftain mid-leap, impaling him through the chest and driving him back into the earth.
Aid rolled across the ground, scrambled to his feet, eyes blazing with fierce anticipation.
“Hah! Perfect! Now I’ll end this beast once and for all—justice for our people!”
“Die!” Aid bellowed, leaping into the air, War Hammer raised high. A massive, towering rock spire—over ten meters in diameter—rose from the earth beneath him, slamming down with crushing force onto the fallen Ogres Chieftain.
The Chieftain was first pinned by the divine Judgment Sword, then buried under the falling rock.
Boom!
The earth shook violently. Cracks spiderwebbed across the ground, spreading outward like a fracture. Debris flew in every direction, dust and ash swirling into a choking haze.
For a moment, the battlefield was swallowed by the storm of destruction. All that remained visible was the towering shadow of the rock spire.
“Phew… that brute should be dead now,” Aid panted, kneeling on the ground, gripping his War Hammer tightly. Sweat dripped from his palms, his breath ragged.
“No,” Ria’s voice cut through the silence, heavy with warning. She hovered above the wreckage, her eyes fixed on the swirling dust. “My enemy’s vow remains unbroken. That Ogre is still alive.”
Without hesitation, she swung her Silver Sword. A blade of twilight Radiance slashed through the air, cleaving the earth with a single, devastating stroke.
Then, from the ashes of the fallen, the spirits of the slain—Dwarves, Humans, even Ogres—rose in spectral form. Their eyes burned with the fire of vengeance. They surged forward, a tide of wrathful souls, driven by nothing but the desire to punish their killers.
This was the Soul of Vengeance.
“Damned Ogres! If you won’t die, then I’ll make sure you’re dead this time!”
Aid’s face hardened. He planted the War Hammer into the ground, then pushed himself up with grim resolve. With each swing, he hammered the earth like a Blacksmith shaping molten steel.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each strike carved deep into the soil, creating grooves that plunged several feet beneath the surface. Cracks spread like lightning across the land.
Then, boulders began to fall from the sky—like a hailstorm of stone, piling up faster than the eye could follow. Soon, the area was buried under a mountain of rubble, forming a small, jagged hill.
Finally, molten fire erupted from below—fiery, searing, the Soul-Forging Fire of Moladin.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Aid and Ria unleashed wave after wave of destruction, their attacks tearing through the earth, reshaping the very landscape.
When the smoke cleared, the battlefield was unrecognizable—a wasteland of piled debris, riddled with cracks and scars, utterly silent.
“Is he dead?”
“In that kind of assault… even a Dragon couldn’t survive.”
“Impossible! Lord Batu is immortal!”
The Dwarves, Elves, and surviving Ogres held their breath, eyes locked on the ruins. The air was thick with tension, anticipation.
If Batu fell, the balance of power would shift—forever.
Then—crack.
A faint sound echoed from within the rubble. A few loose stones tumbled down from the top of the hill.
From below, a low, guttural growl rumbled through the earth, echoing across the battlefield.
Ha-ha-ha…
“Those who can’t kill me… only make me stronger!”
With a roar, the hill collapsed. Rock and dust exploded into the air as a monstrous figure emerged—Batu Skullcrusher, his body a mass of wounds, skin torn and bleeding. Crimson blood covered every inch of his flesh, seeping from every pore.
But the blood was not wasted. It swirled across his body, coalescing into twisted, grotesque totems—ancient, sacred scars of the Blood Ritual.
Gush’s Eye – Ritual Scars!
“Kill… kill you all!” Batu snarled, his single eye now bloodshot, veins bulging. His axe was drenched in his own blood, the blade glistening like a freshly honed weapon.
A wave of suffocating dread spread across the battlefield—his Aura of Intimidation was overwhelming. Every heart skipped a beat.
Behind him, a phantom image materialized—a towering, armored Ogres, clad in black plate armor, one eye glowing with divine fury. The image was colossal, stretching tens of meters into the sky.
“Praise the Ever-Wakeful!”
“Honor the Great Father God!”
The Ogres screamed in frenzy. They had witnessed the Manifestation of their deity—though it was not a true Avatar, merely a phantom summoned by the Blood of Gush artifact.
Still, its presence was overwhelming. The Dwarves and Elves felt despair clawing at their hearts.
Aid stumbled back, his face pale, eyes wide with terror. “By Molradin… that cursed Ogre is truly a Divine Chosen One!”
Ria, however, did not flinch. She raised her Silver Sword and dove from the sky.
“Evil-doer! Even if your god descended from the heavens, it would not save you!”
Whoosh—
Another streak of twilight Radiance split the air—but Batu raised his axe effortlessly, blocking the strike with a casual swing.
Aid gritted his teeth, slammed his War Hammer into the ground, and roared, “I will repay you for my people!”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Rocks erupted from the earth like spears, piercing the sky. But Batu stomped down hard, the blood runes on his feet flaring to life. The earth cracked beneath him, and the Rock Spikes were crushed beneath his feet.
Flames erupted from the ground—molten, burning—but Batu stood within them, unharmed, laughing.
“I told you—those who can’t kill me… only make me stronger. This is Ogres!”
He clenched his fist, and a storm of blood and fury surged into the air, sweeping across the battlefield, consuming everything in its path.
On the City Wall, the Elves watched helplessly as Ria dodged and weaved through the air, her movements frantic, desperate.
Seymour gripped his staff tightly, face twisted with anguish. “Help her! She still has a greater mission! We cannot let her die here!”
The Elven mages raised their wands in unison. Stasis, Disease, Blindness, High Elf Curse—a storm of magical auras lashed out at the Ogres Chieftain.
But Batu stood still. He took every spell—without flinching, without change. Then he grinned.
Hah…
“Fragile-eared fools. Your so-called magic means nothing before a Warrior of Gush!”
That was the power of Eye of Gush—a curse born from millennia of bloodshed. Their mortal bodies could resist even the most potent spells, shielding them from the Elves’ magic.
“And you, bearded ones! Your mighty fortress? In the eyes of the One-Eyed God, it’s nothing but a joke!”
Batu raised his Great Axe once more, bringing it down with a force that shook the very earth.
But this time, his target was not Ria. Not Aid. Not any of the elite.
It was the City Wall.
The massive fortress of Aivendeldan—ancient, unbroken for thousands of years.
Behind him, the phantom of Gush raised its own axe, and in the eyes of tens of thousands, it began to descend.
Boom!
The sky trembled. Mountains groaned.
The axe struck—stone and metal shattered like glass. The wall cracked, split, and tore open. A gap—dozens of meters long, several wide—ripped through the structure.
Dwarves and Elves on the ramparts screamed, scrambling to escape, but the wind tore them apart.
The wall, once a bastion of strength, began to collapse.
And still, Batu swung. The axe split the earth. It carved through foundations. It threatened to bring down the entire city.
Aivendeldan was built into the mountains. If the foundation fell—everything would collapse. The millennia of the High Mountain Kingdom would vanish in an instant.
He wasn’t just conquering the city.
He was destroying the spirit of the Dwarves.
“No—!” Aid screamed, his voice raw with anguish. His eyes burned with fire. “You will not destroy the legacy of the High Mountain Kingdom!”
He charged forward, wild with rage, his body wreathed in fire and shattered stone—like a molten giant of wrath.
“Foolish mortal!” Ria cried, diving from the clouds, her wings flared wide.
High above, the Gold Dragon—Kai Xiusu—watched the battle unfold from the sky. His golden eyes narrowed.
Interesting. According to the story, King Aed will sacrifice his life force, fusing with his War Hammer to shatter the Ogre’s defense. And Ria will cut down the Chieftain, ending the war, earning the Dwarves’ full allegiance.
With a flick of his claw, the Dragon crushed the decaying phantom’s head.
Smile.
“Sorry, no time for games. It’s time to harvest the battlefield.”
A thunderous roar split the sky. The Gold Dragon spread his vast wings and dove from the clouds.
“Ogres! That abomination is dead. Now, the next sinner to face punishment—you!”
Kai Xiusu grinned.
Justice enforcers are far more fun than bosses. Though I usually play the latter role.
In that instant, three Legendary-level warriors—Dwarf, Half-Elf, and Gold Dragon—charged from different directions, each driven by a single, shared purpose.
They would destroy the Chieftain.
The Crimson Blood Tribe’s leader.
The Chosen of Gush.
Batu Skullcrusher.
“Come!” Batu roared, lifting the Blood of Gush, eyes blazing. “After thousands of years of suffering, we Ogres will claim our rightful land—the gift of the Father God! And you, hypocritical enforcers of justice, will be slaughtered—your souls scattered beneath the earth!”
He was not afraid.
And then—the blind vision activated.
Through his empty eye, Batu saw the moment of his own death—forever unblinking.
【Unblinking Vision】
(End of Chapter)
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