In the forgotten corners of the battlefield, priests clamped their eyes shut, murmuring final prayers before the Demons tore them apart.
"Heads up. We're hitting the core of the plaza," Tangere's voice cut through the gloom, low and commanding. "Slow the advance. Watch for stragglers—especially the heavy hitters."
Their small squad had carved a bloody path to get here, butchering several Legendary-tier guardian knights to pad their war rits. By now, the battle was winding down. It was a decisive victory, yet Tangere remained on edge.
"Boss," Caesar whispered, "I'm not picking up any weird vibes. That big shot probably wiped the floor with them already, right?"
He was referring to Makareth, who had disregarded his high status to dive into the fray and slaughter the enemy wholesale. Between Makareth, Isabella, and Kaedros, any Holy Order knight or priest with a spine had been hunted down. None had escaped.
"Better safe than sorry," Tangere replied. "There's no more glory to grab right now anyway. Let's find a hole to hole up in and wait for the main force."
Scarecrow and Aurora nodded in agreent. Back when they had first ascended to Archlord status, they had felt invincible. But in a war of this scale? They were small fry. Barely keeping their heads attached was a struggle.
"Praise the Goddess, chant Her na, sing Her hymns..."
"She is our Mother, the Vindicator of the wronged..."
"She gives a ho to the lonely, an end to the wandering..."
"She disperses the hatred of the lost..."
"May the Goddess descend and banish all Demons from this world..."
Just as Tangere led them toward a ruined structure to rest, a spectral, rhythmic chanting rose from Dola Square ahead.
It was the sound of devotion. Priests, Holy Order knights, believers... even the lingering spirits of the dead were praying, their collective will condensing into raw Faith Energy.
The statue of the Goddess, which had been smashed to rubble by the Templars earlier, suddenly began to move. Shards of stone flew from every direction, reforming in the air above the square. A majestic, terrifying aura began to coalesce amidst the ceaseless hymns.
"Holy hell, Boss. Good thing you didn't let us keep going." Caesar looked ready to bolt.
Beside him, Scarecrow and Aurora looked equally pale, shooting Tangere looks of sheer gratitude. Tangere ignored them, his eyes narrowed as he studied the anomaly ahead.
"Trying to stage a coback with re Faith Energy?" Tangere scoffed. "Delusional."
BOOM!
The scene that followed left Tangere and his squad shook to their cores.
Just as the Goddess's statue neared completion, a colossal tentacle—thick, slimy, and impossibly long—descended from the heavens. With a lazy, dismissive swat, the tentacle pulverized the reforming statue.
In an instant, the hazy divine light shattered. The hymns echoing in their ears died out. The world returned to a dead silence.
"Hahaha! Kraken is here!"
Elara, Makareth, Isabella, and Kaedros—who had been preparing to intervene—looked toward the sky. Hovering there was a creature so massive it defied description.
The Kraken.
It looked like an eldritch god walked straight out of a horror story.
"The Kraken's descended!"
That overwhelming presence, those nightmare tentacles—there was only one creature in the allied forces with that profile.
Isabella's pupils constricted. She knew for a fact that without the trump cards her brother had given her, she couldn't tank a single hit from that monster. Elara and Kaedros, however, watched with calm indifference, as if this world-ending power was just another Tuesday.
The North. Agaman Diocese.
Inside the Great Hall, the scrying mirror went black the mont the Kraken swatted the statue into dust. The last sliver of light the Holy Order had in the Andor Diocese was gone.
Silence. The hall fell into a suffocating, eerie silence.
The reality was stark: no single Diocese could withstand these invaders. Everyone who had watched the live fall of Dola Square knew it.
"I will petition the Headquarters for the Saint's descent in my capacity as a Red-Robed High Priest," Maelric announced, his voice heavy after a long, grim contemplation. "I need your signatures. We must force Headquarters to take this crisis seriously."
Maelric had a bad feeling about that final monster. That was no ordinary Archlord.
"Furthermore," Maelric continued, "Stellaris, Twilight Vale, and Agaman all border the Andor Diocese. Who do you think is next on their chopping block?"
The atmosphere in the hall spiked with tension. The priests from Stellaris and Twilight Vale went dark in the face.
"We cannot let the invaders continue this rampage. We must strike first," said Father Rabic of the Stellaris Diocese.
Geographically, the core city of Stellaris was closest to Dola Square. In his eyes, they were the most likely target. Under these circumstances, a preemptive strike was far wiser than letting the enemy trample their lands.
"This is a holy war that concerns every Diocese. We must unite, summon the Guardian Deities and the Saint, and drive these wolves from our pasture," added Father Pyke of Twilight Vale.
No one wanted to be the next target. If their defense failed, they would lose their 'pasture'—their believers and territory. They would beco failures, their status in the Holy Order plumting to rock bottom. Even if they succeeded, their lands would likely end up as ravaged as the Andor Diocese.
Therefore, pulling everyone into a unified offensive to keep the war away from their own hos was the only logical choice.
ROAR!
Just as the priests of the Holy Order opened their mouths to debate further, a high-pitched, resonant dragon roar shattered the sky above the Agaman Sanctuary.
A World Dragon lood over the cathedral, blocking out the sun. It opened its maw, and a blizzard of ice spikes, varying from spear-sized to house-sized, vomited forth, blanketing the entire sanctuary.
It was the water-aligned World Dragon, Leonidas.
Since the plan was to sweep through the enemy with overwhelming force, Orion and Leonidas had co directly to the Agaman Sanctuary. They were here to asure their fists against the Demigods of the Agaman Holy Order.
When Leonidas attacked, it felt as though the entire world had been encased in frost. An irresistible, majestic force sought to dominate the realm.
Countless sharp ice spikes rained down from the heavens like a teor shower. Each shard was razor-sharp, carrying a terrifying, bone-chilling cold. They fell like arrows, like artillery shells, intent on obliterating the Agaman Sanctuary and every living soul upon this land.
It was the apocalypse.
Amidst the deafening roar of impact, the dense rain of ice hamred against the earth and architecture, a continuous, thundering cacophony of destruction.
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