Chapter 962 – Clash of Crowns
The night screamed.
Saint's Gate burned from within. Its golden towers bled light, divine circuits snapping one after another as the Hollow's forces tore through the fortress like a living storm. The anchors that once fed the Hero his endless divinity cracked and fell silent, their fragments drifting through the sky like shards of starlight.
Kael walked through the ruin with measured steps. His boots crunched over the marble remains of the Church's holy sigils, now nothing more than dust. The faint hum of the shattered barrier still trembled through his bones. Ahead, the great cathedral stood untouched—its white spires gleaming in defiance of the chaos all around.
He could feel it.
That presence.
That arrogance.
The so-called Hero.
Eiden waited for him at the heart of the cathedral, sword of light in hand, the dying dragon chained beside the altar. Every breath the beast took shook the chamber with the echo of ancient power. Her golden eyes met Kael's as he stepped through the doorway.
"Kael," she rasped weakly. "You came."
He gave her a curt nod. "You think I'd let him keep you like this?"
Eiden's smile was sharp, gleaming with madness and divinity. "So you're the Daemon Lord of the Hollow." His voice was filled with mock reverence, his armor cracked and smoking from the battles outside. "I expected horns. Fire. Maybe some tragic speech about salvation."
"You'll find I'm not much for speeches," Kael replied coolly. His hand hovered near his blade. "Only results."
Eiden tilted his head, golden light crawling up his arm as divine script reappeared across his skin. "The gods warned me of you. The one who defies both heaven and hell. The man who believes mortals can stand without faith."
Kael's lips twitched into a grin. "And yet here I stand."
The two moved at the same time.
The cathedral exploded with motion.
Eiden's sword cleaved through the marble, divine energy roaring like a tempest. Kael met him mid-swing, steel clashing against light. The shockwave shattered the stained glass behind them, sending shards of colored crystal across the floor like falling stars.
Kael's aura flared, the crimson-black energy of chaos rolling from his body in waves. Every movement was calculated, every strike made with surgical precision. But Eiden was fast—too fast for a human, faster even than most daemons.
Each anchor destroyed outside weakened his divine strength, but not enough to make him falter.
Outside, the Hollow's forces pressed their advantage. Eris and Selina had destroyed the third anchor completely, and Zerathis was leading the Pillars against the Church's final defenders. The light of divine magic flickered weaker and weaker across the cityscape.
Eris felt the shift through her link with Kael. "His power is dropping! Keep him talking, Kael! Another few minutes and—"
"I don't have minutes," Kael snapped mentally, sidestepping a strike that left a burning trail through the air. "He's adapting."
The Hero laughed as he brought his blade down again, the air itself splitting. "You can't kill faith, monster! Every time you breathe, you defy the gods' design—and that is why I must destroy you!"
Kael caught the blade with his gauntlet. Chaos flared, molten red veins snaking up his arm as his aura met divine power head-on.
"You talk too much," Kael growled—and headbutted him.
The sound cracked like thunder. Eiden stumbled back, blood staining his lip. For a brief instant, his perfect calm broke, replaced by something almost human.
Kael pressed the advantage, his sword moving in a blur. Sparks of red and gold filled the air, each clash shaking the pillars of the cathedral.
The dragon tried to rise, her chains rattling weakly. "Kael…" she murmured. "He's feeding from the divine well beneath the altar… that's his anchor."
Kael's eyes snapped to the runes below them. The floor itself pulsed with light. Every blow Eiden took was being healed, every wound washed clean by divine regeneration.
"Then we break it," Kael said, tightening his grip.
Eiden's laughter rang out again, manic and proud. "You think you can destroy divinity itself?"
Kael's eyes burned like coals. "Watch me."
He drove his blade into the floor. Chaos erupted from the wound, black-red energy flooding the cathedral. The divine runes screamed, distorting and shattering under the unnatural pressure. The light faltered—then burst in a shower of gold.
Eiden roared in fury as the flow of divine energy cut off. His armor dimmed, his sword's brilliance waned.
For the first time, he looked mortal.
Kael stood, his aura surging to full strength now that the sanctified energy was gone.
Eiden spat blood, raising his sword again. "Then we end it here, Daemon Lord."
Kael's grin returned, fierce and wild. "Agreed."
Their blades met once more.
Light and chaos tore through the cathedral in a storm that split the heavens. The very walls of Saint's Gate shook beneath the collision of their power.
The dragon roared in the background as divine and chaotic energy collided in waves that made the sky above the fortress shimmer like a broken starfield.
And through the storm of power and destruction, Kael's voice rang out clear—steady, unshaken, resolute.
"Show me," he shouted, striking forward, "what a hero really is!"
The two clashed again, steel on light, chaos on divinity.
And the world held its breath.