The golden magic array in the heavens had reached the absolute peak of its output. Sacred runes spun in a frantic blur, converging into a singular point of power capable of erasing mountain ranges from the map.
Cardinal Hal gazed up at the silhouette of Pope Hupert, feeling the tremor of that divine might in his very marrow. His eyes shone with a fanatical, tearful worship. This was the proxy of the Spirits. This was the pinnacle of the Faith.
Victory was a heartbeat away.
However, a micro-second before that purifying radiance could descend—the firmant shattered.
A jagged, irregular rift was torn into the sky directly above the golden array, as if an invisible hand had simply reached out and shredded the fabric of reality. There was no warning. No sound.
An eye.
A gargantuan eye, so vast it defied the perspective of any living creature to asure it, opened within the depths of the rift. It possessed no pupil, no focus, and certainly no emotion that could be understood by a mortal soul. It simply gazed downward.
The mont it opened, a tide of death energy—so dense it was physically tangible—poured from the eye like a waterfall of ink.
The Holy Light summoned by Hupert and the necrotic deluge from the eye collided, bifurcating the world into two distinct domains. Beneath the light, the Crusaders felt their wounds seal and their stamina surge. Beneath the gaze of the eye, however, the black dust of the fallen Skeleton Snipers began to writhe and pulse.
The dust beca bone. The bone beca fras. In the blink of an eye, the thousands of marksn of the Extinction Legion stood back up, perfectly intact and restored.
Skele-Envy felt the familiar, cold resonance of that power. The Soul Fire in his cracked sockets flared with a sudden, desperate hope.
The Master!
Behind him, a spatial gate rippled open. A solitary figure stepped through the distortion, walking with a asured, unhurried pace.
The mont Kaito appeared, the cacophony of the battlefield died as if a switch had been flipped. Every unit of the Extinction Legion froze mid-motion. In perfect synchronization, they turned toward their Sovereign and dropped to one knee, their skulls lowered in absolute submission.
Envy watched Kaito approach, his Soul Fire flickering with a frantic mixture of sha and anxiety.
"Master... I..."
"Grant one more chance. I will surely—"
Kaito didn't let him finish. He walked directly to the battered General, extending a bony hand to gently pat the jagged, cracked shoulder bone.
"You've done enough," Kaito said, his voice a calm, resonant hum. "Leave the rest to ."
Feeling the Master's gentle gaze, the turmoil in Envy's soul settled into a deep, icy peace. He bowed his head low. "As you command."
Kaito took several paces forward, his empty sockets locking onto Hupert in the distance. The Pope stared back, his heart stuttering. He felt a pressure he had never encountered in over a century of life. He couldn't read the creature. On paper, the undead only radiated the aura of a Tier 5 entity, yet the threat it projected was more suffocating than any Tier 6 powerhouse he had ever faced.
I cannot wait, Hupert realized. He raised his scepter again. This ti, he bypassed the liturgy, condensing his entire reservoir of Od into a single point.
A beam of Judgnt Light, narrow and blinding, erupted from the scepter. It was a strike designed to pierce the heart of a mountain. The very space it traveled through groaned and vibrated.
Facing a strike capable of crippling a Tier 6 God-Knight, Kaito simply stood his ground. He didn't flinch. He didn't defend.
The pillar of light slamd into Kaito's chest.
A massive mushroom cloud of golden energy and dust erupted in front of the undead lines. The explosion left a bottomless, smoking crater where the Sovereign had stood.
High above, the cosmic eye began to slowly close, its energy seemingly spent.
But before the soldiers of the Crusade could even draw a breath to cheer—the eye snapped open again. Wider than before. More terrible than before.
This ti, the eye's focus shifted to the ranks of the human army.
Hupert's pupils shrank to pinpricks. "Impossible!"
Behind him, the ranks of the Crusade erupted into a chorus of agonizing screams.
"MY HAND! GAH! MY FLESH IS ROTTING!"
"HELP ! SOONE SAVE ! SPIRITS, HAVE RCY!"
Within the zone of the Eye's gaze, every soldier not fully shielded by Hupert's personal light underwent a horrific tamorphosis. Their skin withered into grey parchnt, peeling away to reveal the raw muscle beneath. A heartbeat later, the at turned to ash, falling away to expose bleached, white bone.
The entire process took less than five seconds.
Tens of thousands of Crusaders, along with the Battle Nuns in the rear, were forcibly rewritten into the undead. Only the one thousand Templars surrounding the Pope remained human, protected by his desperate, focused aura.
The newborn skeletons turned, their movents chanical and smooth. They marched to the edge of the smoking crater where Kaito had been struck and, in one fluid motion, knelt in the dirt.
The survivors of the Penance Legion followed suit, prostrating themselves before the pit.
Cardinal Hal stared at the scene, his mind a void of white noise.
The smoke cleared. Kaito stepped out from the center of the crater. His skeletal fra was pristine—bleached clean and without a single scratch. The Soul Fire in his sockets burned with a manic, flickering intensity that whipped in the wind.
Suddenly, dozens—then hundreds—of gargantuan teleportation arrays ignited across the firmant, blotting out the sun.
A million-strong undead legion poured from the light like a tidal wave of bone and steel. The Punishnt Legion, the Fearless Vanguard, the Arcane Legion... Kaito's full military might had arrived on the field.
The Seven Generals manifested behind Kaito, standing in a silent, predatory line. The pressure they radiated was absolute.
Hupert stared at the infinite sea of bone. He looked at the Generals, each now radiating a clear, unmistakable Tier 5 presence, and he finally understood the nature of the nightmare he had invited.
This wasn't a raid. It was an Undead Calamity.
Kaito's gaze locked onto Hupert. An "Authority" of pure, unadulterated fury resonated within the mind of every living creature on the plain.
"Now then!"
"Tell !"
"Did you have a pleasant ti... playing with my child?!"
The mont the words resonated, Kaito's rage flooded the Soul Link, pouring into every skeletal unit on the field.
"ROAR—!!!"
A million undead howled in unison. The Soul Fire in their eyes turned a violent, berserker red. Their auras began to climb at a terrifying, exponential rate.
Behind him, the Seven Generals shattered the ceiling of their power, ascending into Tier 6.
And Kaito himself, fueled by the peak of his indignation, felt the final shackles of his rank disintegrate. The bottleneck of Tier 5 was reduced to dust.
As a Tier 6 Ruler, Kaito gained a new evolution of his Authority. Originally, only designated subordinates could raise the dead. Now, every single skeleton under his command possessed the ability to choose: to kill the enemy, or to rewrite them into a new brother-in-arms.
"RETREAT!!"
Hupert's voice broke, the calm facade finally replaced by raw, unshielded panic.
"HAL! TAKE THE SURVIVORS! RETREAT IMDIATELY!!"
He received no reply. Beside him, Cardinal Hal and the final thousand Templars did not move back a single inch. They stared at the ocean of death before them, their faces devoid of fear. There was only a cold, crystalline resolve.
Hal raised his scepter high.
"FOR THE SPIRITS!"
One thousand Templars, without a heartbeat of hesitation, locked their shields and ford a standard "Lance" wedge.
"FOR THE SPIRITS!"
Holy Light ignited along their blades, flowing over their armor like liquid fire. They were the final pride of the Holy Empire. They were the sharpest edge of the faith.
Hupert looked at them, his throat working, but no words ca. He knew this was their choice.
This was the final glory of a Templar.
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