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Chapter 83 - Chapter 83: Judgement

The icy weapons never even reached O'Connell. Under an overwhelming force, they dissolved into vapor, vanishing without a trace.

The air was thick with suffocating pressure.

"Outsider," O'Connell's eyes were blank and pupil-less as they locked onto Wes. "Do you intend to interfere in this matter?"

His voice carried an innate authority, as though his words themselves were law—undeniable, absolute.

Wes's chest tightened. He could feel the power radiating from O'Connell. This was no longer the strength of an ordinary man—this was something that surpassed human limits.

But having his identity exposed did not faze Wes in the slightest. Nor did he feel fear before this god-descended O'Connell. True, O'Connell's power had grown exponentially under divine descent, yet it was still far from enough to truly frighten Wes.

The strength a god can bestow has a ceiling. This is a rare chance… the perfect time to test myself against divinity.

Wes resolved to fight at full force.

He slowly lowered his hands. With a motion that seemed casual, almost like sleight of hand, thirteen orbs of varying colors slipped from his sleeves, floating into the air. Each orb glowed with radiant light, circling and weaving above him, their brilliance illuminating the entire tomb.

Eight of the orbs flared simultaneously, unleashing beams of power that shot toward O'Connell in a storm of attacks.

There was a freezing ray of glacial cold—air itself crystallizing into frost where it passed.

A searing blaze of fire—an inferno raging as if to reduce all things to ash.

And even a bizarre petrifying light—its touch turning flesh to stone.

Wave after wave of sorcery rained down.

O'Connell did not flinch. With a calm, fearless expression, he deflected each assault.

He suddenly drove his greatsword into the ground. At once, a shockwave of immense force erupted outward in every direction, centered on the blade. The devastating storm of energy annihilated all of Wes's attacks in an instant.

The force hurled Wes backward, forcing him to stagger a few steps before regaining his footing.

Then O'Connell vanished.

In the next heartbeat, he reappeared directly behind Wes, his longsword thrusting forward like lightning toward Wes's back.

Wes reacted instantly. Five of his orbs snapped together, forming a pentagram that flashed into a shimmering magical shield, absorbing the deadly strike.

In the same motion, six black chains shot out from the void, coiling like venomous serpents around O'Connell's limbs and head. Wes chanted under his breath, the chains tightening with each syllable, binding O'Connell in place.

O'Connell raised his hand, calm, making no move to resist.

The very next moment, golden flames erupted across his body. The chains glowed red-hot under the sudden heat, burning away.

Within seconds, they crumbled to ash.

"Phantom God-Blade."

Wes's wand sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. A dazzling beam shot forth, shaped like a blade of pure energy, streaking straight for O'Connell.

O'Connell raised his greatsword. With a single swing, the blade of light shattered under a burst of sword qi.

But this time, it was clear—he had lost his patience.

Golden flames ignited around him, enveloping his entire form. The radiance was blinding, blazing like the very sun itself, overflowing with divine might.

Seeing this, Wes quickly cast a Freezing Spell, attempting to extinguish the flames. Yet it was useless—the golden fire continued to blaze with unstoppable fury.

But O'Connell did not turn his attacks against Wes. His target remained only Anck-su-namun and Imhotep.

The longsword wrapped in golden fire came crashing down upon them like a tidal wave.

Imhotep threw up his arms in desperation to block, but the sword sliced through his defense like a hot knife through butter. Just as it was about to split his skull, Anck-su-namun hurled herself in front of him.

With a heavy, sickening sound, she was cleaved cleanly in two, her body collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

"No!!" Imhotep's scream tore through the tomb in despair. He frantically waved his hands over her remains, chanting incantations in a frenzy, desperately trying to reassemble her body.

But no matter how he struggled, Anck-su-namun did not stir. She lay still upon the cold stone, like a shattered doll beyond repair.

Once more, she had sacrificed herself—to protect him.

Imhotep's face twisted with agony and despair, clutching her broken body tightly as if his entire world had collapsed.

"Why!!" His roar was raw, skyward, drenched in grief.

"Criminal." O'Connell raised his flaming sword high, golden fire burning bright at its tip.

Imhotep clung to Anck-su-namun's corpse. His body began dissolving grain by grain into sand. Within the tomb, the air stirred into a monstrous sandstorm, a roaring hurricane of dust and wind as though the end of days had arrived.

This was his final gambit, his last strike—even if he could not slay Him, he would at least wound Him, to carve out a shred of dignity for himself and his beloved.

But O'Connell merely opened his palm slightly.

At once, the storm of sand responded like a summoned servant, drawn into his hand and compressed into a small sphere. With a casual squeeze, the destructive force vanished, annihilated as if it had never been.

Exhausted, Imhotep looked more like a skeleton than a man, all strength and vitality drained, holding his lover's remains in frail arms.

"Accept your final judgment, sinner!" O'Connell's voice thundered, merciless and divine, as his blazing sword thrust forth like lightning.

"No one may judge me."

With those words, both Imhotep and Anck-su-namun dissolved into golden sand, their forms scattered to the winds.

The sword pierced nothing but empty air. O'Connell's face remained expressionless, but Wes could feel it—the simmering fury beneath, the anger of a god who had been defied.

O'Connell turned his gaze upon Wes.

It's coming! A powerful sense of danger surged through Wes's heart.

He instantly summoned all his magic, preparing for the strike.

Yet what followed left him utterly stunned.

The golden fire cloaking O'Connell's body suddenly flickered out. His form slackened, his power vanished, and in the next moment he collapsed, utterly human again.

"What… what just happened…?" O'Connell muttered weakly, dazed. He remembered nothing of what had transpired, only that he now felt drained beyond measure, as though every ounce of strength had been ripped from him.

His body gave out, and he fell heavily to the floor.

°°°

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