Passive defensive magic, while practical, could never withstand a true strike.
The Four-Yao Blades bit into the holy light. Shen Ji poured more power into them, and little by little the radiance was carved apart.
"It is our duty to destroy evil."
Ekbert's aged face remained calm, even as the blades drew closer behind him.
His end was already sealed—if they could break his Light Barrier so easily, survival was impossible. In that case, he would drag them down with him. Even in death, it mattered little.
Above, torrents of mana raged through the skies. Finally—the Eightfold Heaven completed. Eight vast spheres of holy magic spun in the firmament, poised to descend.
"Die!"
At that moment, Shen Ji's four long blades ripped through the last shreds of light and slashed directly across Ekbert's back.
Shhhk!
Blood sprayed. A deep wound tore across him, and the old Redeemer staggered forward, collapsing, his staff clattering from his hand.
"The last Redeemer—falls."
Mammon's tone was calm as he stepped closer, looking into Ekbert's clouded eyes.
"A noble spirit, old man. But naïve. Sacrifice changes nothing."
Even so, Yae Heaven had been unleashed. Mammon lifted his head—above, the eight spheres shone brighter and began to fall.
It was Ekbert's final strike, a holy bombardment containing every last drop of his mana. Under Yae Heaven, all would be purified—foes and wielder alike.
But… pointless. With Naruto's teleportation, they could leave whenever they wished.
"Retreat. We've delayed too long."
The male leader strode forward, voice firm. Jerna and Ekbert had been dealt with—their purpose fulfilled.
As for the Last Singer of Light… that one was not theirs to hunt. Only the Alliance King himself could move against such an existence.
Now, they needed only to withdraw from Hangcheng before the Singers of Light descended.
"...Is that so?"
A cold, indifferent voice echoed, freezing the air.
Shen Ji and the others stiffened. Their expressions shifted.
At some unknown point, a middle-aged man had appeared beside Ekbert.
Crimson sacred robes draped his form, silver-gray hair neatly combed. His features were calm and mature, carrying both holy elegance and suffocating majesty.
"...Bright Singer!"
Mammon's expression did not change, but his heart clenched tight. He hadn't sensed the man's arrival at all. Not even a ripple.
Only an Epic Singer could veil himself so completely.
Above, the eight heavenly spheres continued to descend, their destructive radiance saturating the skies.
But on the ground—even Shen Ji stood rigid, his expression solemn. None dared to make a move.
Facing an Epic… the pressure was beyond imagination.
Ekbert turned his eyes weakly toward the Singer. But instead of relief, only disappointment filled his gaze.
The Singer's expression flickered.
"I'm sorry, Teacher Ek. I could not watch you die."
His voice was calm, but his hands trembled as he clasped them together in prayer.
Divine light blossomed, filling the world with gentle radiance. It washed over Ekbert, knitting his torn flesh, sealing his bleeding wounds.
Mammon and the others instinctively fell back, unwilling to test that sacred glow.
Above, the Eightfold Heaven trembled. Slowly, under that same holy radiance, the spheres dissolved, fading into motes of light until nothing remained.
Ekbert's eyes widened faintly—betrayal and grief stirring within them.
"God is merciful."
The Singer's whisper was solemn as he lowered his clasped hands. Ekbert's life had been saved, but the sacrifice had been nullified.
Turning, the Singer's gaze fell upon Mammon and his allies. His eyes carried no warmth, only judgment.
"I am Asmit, Singer of Light."
He took two calm steps forward. The voice was soft, yet in their ears it boomed with impossible clarity.
"As commander of the Light God Realm's descent, I declare this: all who blaspheme against the Goddess… shall be judged."
His killing intent surged, sharp enough to choke the air.
Mammon's brows knit. So it was true—this Epic was prepared to purge them all.
The Light God Realm had lost too much in this battle. And Ekbert had nearly been sacrificed.
Now, Asmit's eyes swept across them like blades of light, pausing for a heartbeat on Jerna.
Cold. Indifferent. Merciless.