Ery left Calot behind and returned to the Fey Shrine.
Beneath its radiant canopy of Gaia tree, his true body sat in stillness, encased in an erald light. Through that vessel, the purest strands of nature energy flowed, endlessly feeding his cultivation and spirit.
For the next several days, he devoted his ti to refining the divine sword—Excalibur.
The weapon hovered before him, glimring with both celestial and earthly light. Its blade thrumd like a living thing, resisting his touch. Even with his newly advanced realm, the sword refused to yield. The mont he tried to infuse it with his energy, the divine essence within the blade clashed violently against the darkness in his core. Sparks of conflicting laws danced through the air, golden light against void-black fla.
Ery persisted, weaving the delicate balance between light and darkness that defined his existence. After days of struggle, the blade finally dimd, its resistance softening.
The sword no longer fought him outright, though it still pulsed with silent defiance. Ery let out a heavy breath, his eyes reflecting its fading light.
It would take much more ti to truly draw out its full power. But ti was a luxury he didn’t have. A full week had already passed since the Calot festival, and his departure for Centauri Planet lood ahead.
He walks toward the towering Gaia Tree and takes a mont to observe his true body once more. Though the flow of energy from Gaia has weakened, the connection still pulses deeply—steadfast and unbroken, and it will not fade anyti soon.
His eyes dimd as he thought of the choice before him.
"Should I cut this connection... or leave my true body behind?"
His clone’s body could last for weeks—enough ti to deal with the situation on Centauri. His true soul would indeed be more vulnerable in a weaker form, but he was confident that even if he encountered a powerful opponent, he could resist or at least escape. anwhile, leaving his true body here gave him so assurance; after all, he had yet to fully entrust the Nephilim around Earth
As he wrestled with the decision—whether to sever the connection or leave his true body behind—sothing stirred deep within his domain. Most of the nature energy that Ery had been absorbing from Gaia surged downward, streaming like glowing rivers of erald light into the mountain below, toward the Khaos hub.
His senses sharpened. Realizing what was happening, a faint smile crossed his lips. Without hesitation, he moved quickly and retrieved the source from the hub, bringing it out into the shrine.
The fey priestess Tyra widened her eyes in shock when she saw what Ery carried—a massive cocoon-like object, wrapped in layers of faint crimson and shadow. Within it lay a familiar female figure.
"Morgana!" Tyra gasped.
The cocoon trembled as if reacting to his voice. The energies around it began to spiral violently, twisting together until cracks splintered the shell. The Fey priestess Tyra appeared beside him, gasping as the cocoon finally burst apart.
Morgana erged—half human, half wolf—her form wreathed in a storm of living dark flas that writhed like tendrils of shadowy vines. Her eyes glowed a deep crimson, and her aura radiated with power.
Ery’s instincts flared; he extended his hand, preparing to contain the outburst before it destroyed the shrine. But to his surprise, he didn’t need to. The dark flas did not devour—they breathed, curling and coiling around her body in perfect harmony with the surrounding nature energy.
Morgana’s eyes snapped open. With a single breath, she drew the flas inward, calming the storm around her.
The mont she did, sothing else occurred.
A low rumble echoed across the sky. Clouds began to twist unnaturally, forming a vast, spiraling vortex. The sky darkened as cosmic energy surged, lightning flashing within the storm’s heart. The pressure grew heavier with every passing second, pressing against the entire forest like the weight of a mountain.
Ery’s gaze sharpened. He could feel the power building, vast and divine.
"A cosmic tribulation... She’s breaking through her second cosmos."
It was far from an ideal place for such an event, but with Gaia standing nearby, Ery believed it would still provide a decent environnt for Morgana’s breakthrough. Either way, it was too late to relocate, and Ery had no ans to halt the tribulation.
He turned to Morgana, whose figure now hovered in midair, her gaze fixed upon the darkened heavens. "Just focus on the tribulation," he called out firmly. "I’ll protect the village."
Morgana gave a small nod before soaring upward, her wings of dark fla unfurling wide.
The first bolt of lightning struck.
A blinding spear of violet thunder crashed from the heavens. Morgana roared in defiance, her aura flaring crimson and black, clashing against the cosmic light. The explosion sent ripples through the clouds.
Ery knelt and slamd his palm into the ground, summoning his Elysian roots. Like a vast web, the roots spread beneath the entire village, forming a protective barrier of nature energy. The Fey around them gasped as erald light surrounded their hos, shielding them from the devastation.
Another bolt. Then a third. Each one fiercer than the last.
Five lightning strikes had fallen already, yet the storm only grew more violent. Tyra, clutching her staff, turned toward Ery, voice trembling. "Will she be alright?"
Ery did not take his eyes off the sky. "Don’t worry... I’ll step in if she needs help."
He was fully prepared for what might co, yet deep down, Ery knew Morgana had to face the tribulation alone.
Above him, the storm thickened, layers of clouds swirling like a vortex of divine wrath. Thunder rumbled, shaking mountains, and streaks of light tore through the darkened sky.
Then, Morgana raised her head.
A low growl escaped her throat, rising into a fierce, bone-shaking howl that echoed across the entire area. Her body began to change—bones shifting, muscles expanding, and veins pulsing with both dark and natural light. The air around her warped under the pressure of her awakening bloodline.
[Dawn Transformation]
The transformation she had been refining for decades finally blood to its fullest.
Flas of scarlet enveloped her, her power swelling like an inferno contained within flesh. Her claws were glowing with crimson runes that shimred across her skin like living tattoos. The runes pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, each beat sending a wave of power that shook the air around her. Her eyes turned feral, yet her mind burned with focus.
When the sixth bolts descended, she t them head-on, catching the thunder with her bare hands and shattering it apart.
Ery watched, awe mingling with concern. The seventh and eighth strikes tore at her spirit, yet she stood unbroken. Ery’s senses sharpened as he detected a surge of nature energy filling the air—Gaia herself was intervening, assisting Morgana’s attempt while shielding the surrounding area.
By the ti the ninth lightning bolt fell, others had gathered nearby—Damo and the Nephilim magus, their faces tense as they beheld the cataclysm in the sky. But none interfere.
The tenth thunderstrike gathered above, far larger than all the rest. The clouds swirled into a spiral of pure cosmic destruction. Even from the ground, the pressure was suffocating.
Ery prepared to intervene—but Morgana raised her hand.
"No..."
Her body blazed with celestial fire, but this was no ordinary fla. The Nephilim magus stared in disbelief.
"Heavenly fla,"
The living cosmic fire—refined, mastered, and now reborn—flowed from Morgana’s arms like molten starlight. The twin streams of fla coiled together, twisting and folding upon themselves, until they blossod into a blazing lotus flower. Each petal unfurled with deliberate grace, its edges etched in ancient runes that pulsed between shadow and radiance—darkness and nature intertwined.
The lotus flower rotated slowly, its core a miniature sun of living fla.
Then, with a commanding gesture, Morgana sent it soaring upward.
It ascended to et the tenth—an imnse bolt that split the sky in two. When they collided, the heavens ignited.
A cataclysmic roar followed, as though the very fabric of the realm scread under the clash. The explosion painted the clouds gold and crimson; waves of cosmic light cascaded outward in concentric rings.
For a fleeting heartbeat, the world fell utterly silent.
Then, slowly, the storm dispersed.
Crimson motes of light rained down like falling petals. Morgana descended, her aura transford—vast, serene, and radiant with power. Her second cosmos had awakened.
User Comments
0 comments from readers