The mont my bare fingers brushed the cold, coarse tal of the rusty cup, a pulse of energy rushed up my arm.
Crack. Flake.
The thick layers of rust and gri didn’t just rub off; they shattered and peeled away like dead skin shedding from a molting snake. The dull, tarnished iron underneath began to shift, transmuting before my eyes into flawless, gleaming silver lined with pure gold. Intricate engravings of kneeling angels and weeping saints revealed themselves along the rim.
The dull air of the tomb suddenly grew heavy and warm. A blinding, liquid-gold light spilled over the brim of the cup, radiating with a fierce, joyful intensity. After centuries of waiting in the dark, the holy artifact had finally t a master capable of feeding it divine mana.
Ding!
A cascade of translucent blue system windows suddenly flooded my vision, stacking one over the other.
[Hidden Achievent Unlocked: The Pilgrim’s Legacy]
[Condition t: Retrieve a forgotten Supre Relic from the Wilderness.]
[Reward: 10,000 Points]
[Reward: Holy Skill acquired - ’Divine Domain (Passive)’]
Description: Emits a continuous, invisible 10-ter aura of holy energy that slowly regenerates the vitality and minor wounds of all recognized allies within the area.
"Holy shit," I muttered, my eyes widening. An AOE passive heal? That was an absolute ga-changer for team survival.
But the notifications weren’t done.
Ding!
[Mythic Achievent Unlocked: The Holy Trinity]
[Condition t: Simultaneously possess three high-tier Holy Artifacts (1st-Order Divine Bullet, Rosary of the Weeping Saintess, The Pilgrim’s Goblet).]
[Reward: Supre Holy Skill acquired - ’Divine Judgent (Active)’]
My jaw practically hit the mossy floor.
Divine Judgent? Are you kidding ? In Asteria Online, that was an apocalyptic, late-ga nuke! It was the signature skill used by the Archangels when they descended to earth during the final war against the Demon Kings. Having that skill now was basically walking around with a tactical nuke in my back pocket.
Ecstatic, I quickly tapped the skill description to see its destructive multiplier.
My enthusiasm died instantly.
[Divine Judgent (Active)]
Description: Summons a localized pillar of absolute divine eradication. Incinerates all demonic and corrupted entities within a 50-ter radius.
Cost: 100% of User’s Divine Mana.
Cooldown: 720 Hours.
"A one-month cooldown... damn it," I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose.
It was a literal once-a-month panic button. But as I read the fine print, a wave of relief washed over . Unlike the Primordial Earth Crown or forcing the Rosary’s output, this was a System-integrated skill. aning? It wouldn’t take a devastating physical toll on my mortal vessel. I wouldn’t pass out for two days and wake up with a 50% status debuff after casting it.
I ntally dismissed the windows and pulled up my main status screen to check my growth.
*****
Status Window
Na: Lucien Ashborne
Age: 17
Race: Human
Stats:
Strength: 24
Agility: 17 ( 60*)
Endurance: 27
Intelligence: 25
Mana: 23
Holy Mana: 23 ( 40*)
Charm: 76
Skills:
Mana Control Lv. 5
Marksmanship Lv. 7
Detection Lv. 7
Movent Arts Lv. 6
Culinary Creator (Passive)
Rune of Vitality (Passive - Auto Healing)
Divine Domain (Passive - AOE Healing)
Divine Judgent (Active - CD: 720h)
Points Remaining: 27,000
Inventory:
The Pilgrim’s Goblet (Supre Relic)
Rosary of the Weeping Saintess (Supre Relic)
Primordial Earth Crown (Mythic Artifact)
’Blackwood’ Winchester Rifle
’Reaver’ Shotgun
Ammunition:
Mana Bullets x75
High-Grade Mana Bullets x47
Holy Bullets x33
1st-Order Divine Bullet x1 I stared at the 27,000 points and the absurdly stacked inventory. I was a walking armory of mass destruction.
"Alright," I exhaled, tossing the gleaming Goblet into my spatial inventory. "Ti to head back. Winterguard is probably having a rough ti without ."
*****
’Rough ti’ was the understatent of the century.
The forces at the barrier were experiencing absolute hell.
They had thought the previous week’s skirmishes ant they were already at the bottom of the abyss. They were wrong. Without the ’Madman’ sitting in the sniper tower locking down the sky, the garrison was truly floundering in the jaws of death.
"Aaaah!!!"
Amidst the chaotic roar of the monsters battering the walls, a horrifying scream pierced the air. A massive creature resembling a corrupted pterosaur swooped down over the parapets. Its jagged talons pierced a penal soldier’s shoulders, snatching him up and soaring high into the freezing sky.
A second later, the monster simply opened its claws. The soldier was dropped rcilessly, plumting to the earth. The survivors on the wall were forced to listen to his fading, terrified screams until a wet crunch silenced them.
"Damn it... damn it all!"
Commander Viktor cursed, decapitating a gargoyle that landed on the stone. He kicked the corpse off the edge, his chest heaving as he frantically checked the eastern barrier.
...The patched wall had yet to fall, but the glacial ice was groaning under the pressure.
"Viktor! Focus your eyes on the front!" a booming voice commanded over the din of battle. "You’ll know when the barrier breaks, whether you like it or not!"
"Yes, sir!" Viktor shouted back, raising his shield.
Commander Arthur Whitmore had decided he could no longer afford to hold back and command from the rear. The Lord of Winterguard had entered the bloody fray himself.
Forsaking his usual broadsword, the veteran warrior held a heavy, runic long staff—a brutal artifact of his lineage. With each ferocious swing, blinding arcs of blue lightning shot out, cleaving through the charging monsters left and right. The sll of ozone and burnt flesh filled the air.
The destructive power of the lightning was terrifying, but it wasn’t enough to handle the sheer, endless volu of the horde swarming the bottleneck. Furthermore, there were mutated behemoths among the vanguard that could withstand even that raw voltage.
"Ugh..."
Arthur staggered back after blasting a chira, wiping at the corner of his mouth. Thinking it was just freezing saliva, he glanced at the back of his armored glove and realized it was blood. He hadn’t thought he was pushing his mana core too hard, but his aging body was honest.
Rumble—!
The entire fortress wall shook violently, as if struck by a localized earthquake. Arthur, standing near the edge of the parapet, stumbled and nearly lost his footing.
A giant monster was rhythmically pounding against the barrier directly beneath him. An Ogre. The massive, corrupted brute, covered in thick, leathery armor, was using its own hardened skull as a battering ram against the fragile ice masonry.
CRACK! A spiderweb fracture spread across the ice.
Thick veins bulged on Arthur’s scarred forehead. "A big, dumb brute, through and through..."
Arthur’s grip tightened on his staff. Sparks flew from his eyes and crackled violently around his fingertips.
Crackle! BOOM!
A concentrated, blinding spear of lightning streaked downward in a violent trajectory, piercing straight through the Ogre’s thick skull and frying its brain instantly.
The beast died on its feet. But as terrible luck would have it, the creature’s massive, multi-ton corpse slowly began to lean forward, slumping directly against the already weakened section of the barrier.
"Oh, no," Arthur breathed.
Driven by the sheer weight of the dead Ogre, the fractured ice buckled. The massive body started to force its way through the gap, expanding the cracks. The wall was seconds away from completely shattering and spilling the horde into the courtyard.
Just as the ice gave way—
Ice-type Magic.
Instant. Range. Amplification.
[Glacier Mist]
A freezing shockwave blasted past Arthur’s shoulder.
With a resounding, heavy thud, the dead Ogre, the surrounding monsters, and the crumbling wall itself were instantly frozen solid. The beast was entombed in a block of absolute zero, its hulking form effectively becoming a new, impenetrable structural pillar reinforcing the broken barrier.
"It’s rather fortunate," a calm, lodic voice said over the howling wind. "The wall has thickened."
Commander Arthur glanced back. Princess Rumina stood there, her hands glowing with pale blue mana, her breath misting in the air.
Arthur acknowledged the save with a predatory, bloody grin. He wiped his chin, turning back to the horde.
’The little princess is bluffing,’ the old knight muttered under his breath, noticing the faint tremble in Rumina’s fingers and the pale exhaustion on her face. ’But she’s got absolute steel in her spine.’
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