On the Eternal Continent, Tiered Sealing Relics were incredibly rare transcendent artifacts. High-tier Tiered Sealing Relics were even more scarce, usually tightly controlled by the major sects and powers. For the average person, obtaining one was as difficult as ascending to the heavens.
And yet, Dusk had merely gone out for a casual stroll, and somehow stumbled upon a Sealing Relic that might be even more advanced than the Scepter of the End.
Even though she'd tried to brace herself, Nara still felt a wave of shock wash over her. Since when did Sealing Relics become so worthless?
Dusk paid no mind to her expression. He picked up the bronze mask and placed it on his face.
A bronze glow flashed across it.
Almost at the same moment, a surge of information regarding the Tiered Sealing Relic appeared in his mind.
[Sealing Relic]: "Divine Phantom Mask"
[Ability 1]: Phantom Mask – While worn, it conceals the user's presence. Cannot be detected by beings below divine rank.
[Ability 2]: Divine Idol – Activating the mask summons a "Divine Idol," a phantom with Super-Level power.
[Ability 3]: Soul Devouring – Slaying a Monster allows the mask to consume its soul and grant strength to the host.
[Cost]: Each time the Divine Phantom Mask is used, it consumes 10 years of the host's lifespan, and the mask can never be removed.
…
He reached up to touch the mask on his face. The surface felt cold and solid, but it gave Dusk an intense sense of security.
He had to admit—Raymond had really delivered one hell of a surprise.
This thing was perfect for pulling off tricks and playing the part of something divine.
The only drawback was… each use cost ten years of his life. Even if he wagered his entire lifespan, he'd only get a few shots at using it.
And once it was on, it could never be taken off.
Dusk shook his head slightly.
Still, regardless of the price, this was one more life-saving trump card in his hand. It gave him a little more confidence to keep surviving in this world.
He had gotten what he came for. There was no longer any reason to stay.
"Let's go, we—" Dusk turned to speak to Nara.
But before he could finish, a brilliant pillar of golden light suddenly shot into the sky from the plains in the distance.
Boom!
The golden light erupted in the sky like thunder, transforming into a radiant golden barrier that enveloped the entire area.
At the same time, tens of thousands of cavalry from the Cult of the Dawn and the Clinton Empire dropped their concealment techniques.
Hooves thundered across the grassy plain. Cold light gleamed off sharp spear tips. Like an unstoppable tide of steel, they surged toward them.
"That's the Cult of the Dawn's Angel's Feather! Victor actually brought that thing here!" A look of solemnity crept onto Nara's usually flirtatious face.
Dusk's eyes narrowed in confusion. After hearing Nara's explanation, he finally understood—this barrier actually weakened the power of the Scepter of the End.
He had figured these people wouldn't show up without a full plan in place. But even then, he hadn't expected them to open with a Tier 3 Tiered Sealing Relic right out the gate.
"We're going back!" With a glance at the encroaching cavalry, Dusk made a snap decision and turned back toward the town.
…
Meanwhile, under the command of Victor and Isaac, the cavalry of the Cult of the Dawn and the Clinton Empire charged fiercely toward the crumbling town of Talros.
Fursa and the rest of his followers from the Cult of the End had been waiting outside the town for quite some time.
Even though they had mentally prepared themselves, the moment they saw the endless tide of cavalry bearing down on them, many of the cultists still felt a chill run down their spines.
There was no way their small group could withstand even a single charge from the enemy!
"Don't be afraid. With our Lord beside us, victory is assured," Fursa said calmly, his voice unusually firm.
Quito, standing nearby, burst into laughter. "The Archbishop speaks the truth! With our Lord here, what does the Cult of the Dawn amount to? Just a swarm of ants, nothing more!"
Their words lit a fire of courage among the Cult of the End's followers.
At the very least, it kept them from falling into panic before the battle even began.
At that moment, the ornate lead carriage arrived at the outskirts of Talros Town.
Bishop Victor, robed in crimson, and the Empire's God of War, Isaac, stepped down from the carriage.
Once on the ground, Isaac looked straight at Fursa and sneered without holding back. "Hahaha! You old bastard, Fursa—when you went after the Vedi family all those years ago, did you ever imagine a day like today would come?"
Fursa had once taken great pleasure in hunting down young prodigies, especially those from powerful factions. Isaac had been one of his targets. But he had narrowly survived—and risen to become who he was now.
Fursa responded with a calm expression. "No, I didn't think a day like this would come. If I had, I would've made damn sure to kill you back then, you little bastard."
"Still mouthing off when you're about to die," Isaac scoffed coldly. "Let's see if you're still so proud when you're begging for your life later."
At that moment, Bishop Victor spoke up, his tone even and persuasive. "Fursa, I advise you to surrender. Your Divine Court of the End has already fallen. Even if you survive this battle, there's no future left for you."
Fursa's cold smirk shifted into a proud, almost contemptuous grin. "Don't celebrate too early. It's still far too soon to say who's going to win."
Beside him, Castor, Derrick, Quito, and even the cultists standing behind them all wore confident expressions.
Their utter composure made Victor and Isaac pause in confusion.
The fall of the Cult of the End was practically a certainty. Had these lunatics completely lost their minds?
"If you're that eager to die, I'll be happy to oblige," Isaac growled.
With a sharp shing, he drew his longsword. Crimson battle aura burst forth around him like a blaze of blood-colored flame. The overwhelming pressure of a Super-Level warrior exploded outward like a volcano.
"All soldiers, hear my command!" His blade pointed directly at Castor and the others. Behind the silver of his helmet, his eyes were cold and merciless.
"To the front—crush them!"
"WAAAH!!"
Tens of thousands of cavalrymen unsheathed their long sabers in perfect unison and turned their gazes toward Fursa's group. Killing intent surged like a tidal wave.
Without the slightest hesitation, the iron cavalry thundered across the cobblestone streets of the town. Like a living wall of steel, they charged straight at Fursa and his companions.
At the same time, Bishop Victor rose into the air.
He raised his staff high, and a radiant, holy light of pure gold burst from his body.
In an instant, the heavens and earth seemed to shift.
A massive sword, hundreds of meters long, tore through the clouds above—its razor-sharp tip aimed straight at the people within the town.
Another Super Level!
At the sight of this, many of the cultists' legs turned to jelly.
Most of them were just ordinary people—when had they ever seen a scene like this?
"Isaac is mine. Everyone else, prepare for battle!" Fursa showed not even a hint of fear. Sinister black mist surged out from his body, and in the blink of an eye, condensed into a massive spectral hand that swung upward toward the golden greatsword in the sky.
At the same time, Castor, Derrick, and Quito each unleashed their own powers.
A towering giant formed entirely from white bone, a swarm of a thousand undead corpses crawling from beneath the earth, and a hellhound with three heads forged from black flames—all of them hurled themselves toward the oncoming cavalry.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions rocked all of Talros Town.
Countless buildings were reduced to rubble. In just the blink of an eye, soldiers and cultists alike were dying by the hundreds.
"So this is what a battle between Extraordinary Beings looks like…"
From a distance, Dusk stood expressionless, but inwardly, he was utterly shaken.
This was far more real than any special effects he'd ever seen in movies back in his previous life.
Even from this far away, he could feel that terrifying, bone-deep destruction.
And it made his desire for that kind of power burn even hotter.
In the end, power was the only thing that mattered in this world.
"Master… aren't you going to intervene?" Nara stood beside him, a trace of worry in her voice.
The Cult of the Dawn had clearly come prepared. The Angel's Feather had significantly weakened Fursa and the others.
Add to that tens of thousands of cavalry, and with the Cult of the End's current strength, they wouldn't be able to hold out for long.
Dusk snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice. "I'll make my move when the time is right. Your job is just to stay here and watch."
The enemy was at their peak strength right now—if he jumped in now, wouldn't that be suicide?
Dusk was very clear on his own limits.
He was still just an ordinary man. With the Scepter of the End weakened, the only real card he had left was the Divine Phantom Mask he'd just obtained.
Sure, it could summon a Super-Level Divine Idol—but whether it would actually be enough to handle the Cult of the Dawn was still up in the air.
If he could just wait out the duration of the Angel's Feather, then that would be the best time to strike. That would give him the highest chance of turning the tide and pulling everyone back from the brink.
Simply put, the longer they could stall, the better their chances of survival.
Nara understood and didn't press the issue. She stood quietly at his side.
As the Holy Maiden of the Cult of the End, obeying Dusk's orders was her highest priority.
Just then, Dusk's eyes narrowed—something on the battlefield had shifted.
Blood-red flames blanketed the sky. Isaac, clad in silver armor, knocked Fursa back with a single devastating strike of his blade.
With a twist of his wrist, a tattered long spear appeared in his hand, glowing with a sinister crimson light.
Isaac let out a savage grin. "Fursa, you old bastard! Today, I'm going to make sure there's not even a grave left for you!"
The moment they saw the broken spear in his hand, the expressions on Fursa, Castor, and even Bishop Victor shifted dramatically.
"The Spear of Annihilation?! The Clinton royal family actually let you bring that thing?!" Fursa's face darkened.
The Spear of Annihilation was a Grade-2 Tiered Sealing Relic held by the royal family of the Clinton Empire.
Legend said it had once been the weapon of a god of war, only reduced to its current broken form after surviving the Great Cataclysm.
Even so, during the early days of the empire's founding, the first king had wielded that very relic to slaughter an entire minor nation, carving out vast territory for the Clinton Empire.
What was even more terrifying—
It didn't distinguish between friend and foe.
Everything within its range was a target.
"Isaac, don't be reckless! It's not time yet!" Victor immediately tried to stop the lunatic.
The battle had barely begun—who the hell throws the biggest bomb right out of the gate?
It was one thing for the Clinton Empire to take risks. But they—the Cult of the Dawn—weren't looking to get blown to pieces just to keep this maniac company.
But it was already too late.
Before Victor could reach him, the Spear of Annihilation in Isaac's hand erupted with a thick, ominous crimson glow.
At the same time, the sun in the sky was instantly blotted out, plunging the world into darkness.
Only the broken spear remained suspended in the heavens—like a bloody red sun.
And then—
it fell.