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With every deliberate step the Lich King took, the frozen ground quaked beneath its colossal weight, sending tremors rippling through the city walls like warnings of inevitable doom.
Helant drew a steadying breath, his gaze shifting to Mino.
Her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen from endless tears, met his with fierce, unspoken attachment. He offered her a soft, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I will definitely survive this."
Mino said nothing, but her nod was firm, resolute. The raw devotion in her expression spoke volumes; she had been profoundly moved by Helant's displayed spirit of sacrifice, his willingness to stand as humanity's shield.
"Hmph. All your futile struggles are in vain," the Lich King intoned, its voice a ghastly chorus—the wailing torment of thousands of trapped evil spirits layered into one ear-splitting cacophony. "Simply become my first feast upon breaking free from that accursed seal!"
Within the roiling ghostly blue flames wreathing its skeletal form, countless flickering silhouettes writhed—restless souls imprisoned eternally, their silent screams adding to the horror.
The intensifying cold and enveloping darkness only amplified the Lich King's overwhelming terror. On the city walls, every adventurer and defender instinctively turned their eyes toward Helant—the last fragile hope amid the encroaching abyss.
Beneath their desperate gazes, a sudden eruption of platinum-gold radiance bloomed from Helant's body. The warm, sacred light spread outward, enveloping everyone on the ramparts in a gentle, comforting embrace that pushed back the biting frost.
Helant lifted his face toward the slowly advancing monstrosity, expression filled with pure, unwavering devotion. In a clear, resonant voice, he began the prayer: "O Supreme One who transcends the mortal realm…"
Crack!
The first words had barely left his lips when a sharp, crystalline snap echoed from the pitch-black sky—like fragile glass shattering under immense pressure.
Instantly, a brilliant beam of platinum-gold light pierced downward from a tiny fissure in the heavens, illuminating the battlefield with dazzling purity.
The moment that holy radiance appeared, the razor-sharp snowflakes suspended in the air melted away, transforming into soft, cooling rain that pattered against upturned faces.
The refreshing moisture on skin and armor lifted weary spirits skyward.
It's working!
Excitement surged through the crowd.
Voices rose in fervent chorus: "Great Holy Domain God Lord, we pray for your protection!"
The Lich King froze mid-stride at the sight of the descending platinum light. Its expression twisted—first rigid shock, then raw, primal terror. "Impossible! This aura… a god? Aren't gods mere fables—nonexistent in this world?!"
"It is all because of you!" Malice and wary dread burned in its bloodshot sockets as the massive form accelerated forward, charging toward E-Rantel's walls.
It seemed torn between ripping Helant apart in fury and fleeing some unspeakable horror on the verge of arrival.
The Lich King's grotesque advance only fueled the defenders' resolve. Their chants grew louder, more unified: "Great Holy Domain God Lord, we pray for your protection!"
Helant paid the charging abomination no mind. Fearlessly, he continued the second line: "Lord of Kindness and Light…..."
Ah~~~~
From the widening crack above, an ethereal melody drifted down—ethereal choral singing reminiscent of cathedral nuns, yet lighter, holier, infinitely more beautiful and soothing.
Though the words remained indistinct, the hymn washed over the battlefield like balm, dissolving fear and anxiety in waves of serenity.
When eyes turned back to the Lich King, the earlier terror had vanished—replaced by burning hatred for this embodiment of evil and undeath.
Even far away, through the crystal ball, the holy song touched Zinedine and the Thousand Leagues Astrologer. Their earlier agitation melted into profound peace and tranquility.
It felt as though everything would resolve the instant Helant completed his invocation.
Zinedine forced his analytical mind to reassert control. An unthinkable possibility crystallized: Could the Holy Domain God Lord truly be… a genuine deity?
At that moment, the Lich King—seemingly recognizing the hymn's source—lost all composure. Ferocity overtook fear as it drained the surrounding air of what little warmth remained, condensing overwhelming cold flames in its massive hands.
With a thunderous roar, it hurled the bone-chilling blaze straight at Helant atop the wall!
The ghostly blue inferno devoured heat wherever it passed, flash-freezing stone, air, and flesh alike. The intent was clear: obliterate the summoner before the descent could complete.
The sheer terror of the attack made Quaiesse's heart lurch. Instinctively, he glanced at Momon—the only one present with any hope of intercepting it.
Sure enough, the dark warrior moved.
Momon leaped skyward, positioning himself directly before Helant. Eyes locked on the oncoming cold flames, he swung both greatswords in furious arcs. Blades ignited with violent radiance as he unleashed six slashing waves from each weapon.
"Martial Art: Sixfold Slash of Light!"
Twelve razor-sharp streams of sword aura hurtled forward, slicing toward the frigid inferno.
Before they could fully connect, Momon's calm voice rang out once more.
"Unity: Flame-Severing!"
The twelve streams instantly coalesced—six per side merging into twin solid waves—then fused in midair into one colossal blade of pure energy that smashed into the cold flames with cataclysmic force!
Boom!
The sword qi cleaved straight through the azure blaze, momentum unbroken as it continued roaring toward the Lich King.
The undead lord extended a skeletal hand and crushed the incoming wave effortlessly, dark energy dissipating in wisps.
"Insects… so bothersome!" it snarled through a twisted grimace, the word "insects" dripping with deliberate contempt and malice.
By then, Momon had already withdrawn to the safety of the wall.
Helant's figure stood exposed once more. A faint, sincere smile curved his lips as he pressed onward: "The Only True God who rules the Holy Domain…"
Crack… crack…
Under the weight of his prayer—and the rising chorus of faith from below—the celestial fissure spread like fracturing spiderweb across the night sky. It seemed the sky itself might tear open at any instant, unleashing blinding light.
Pfft!
Suddenly, Helant's face drained of color. A violent cough wracked him, and he spat a thick gout of blood onto the stone.
Quaiesse—standing closest—and Zinedine through the crystal ball both saw the ghostly blue flames on Helant's chest flare savagely, greedily consuming his remaining life force.
Quaiesse's head snapped up. He caught the Lich King striding closer, one massive hand clenched in the air as though gripping an invisible thread—pulling, draining.
"Helant! If you continue, you really will die!" Quaiesse shouted in warning.
He understood little of the summoning's true cost, but he recognized the Lich King's tactic: accelerate the corruption to burn Helant's vitality to ash before the descent finished.
Helant, however, threw back his head and laughed—loud, defiant, almost joyous. "I respectfully invite You… to descend upon this world!!"
The final invocation tore from his throat.
His body lurched violently, knees buckling as though strings had been cut. Quaiesse lunged forward to catch him, steadying the collapsing form.
Up close, Quaiesse saw the platinum holy aura enveloping Helant flicker and fade rapidly. The young man's spirit appeared utterly drained—pale, hollow-eyed, teetering on the brink of death.
In the sky above, the cracks widened further. The leaking holy light intensified, the ethereal song swelling to a triumphant crescendo.
Under the unified prayers of hundreds, the oppressive shroud of night could endure no longer.
Snap!
The darkened sky shattered into countless jagged fragments, revealing a vast, radiant opening that flooded the battlefield with blinding, purifying brilliance!
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