Chapter 490: Chapter 490- Do Collapse
With the orbit of the sun and its crimson light hidden beneath the cacophony of clouds that now sullied the skies, it was evident that ti was long overdue.
Noon was gone, and duskfall now approached with widened arms.
A mystical colour pierced through the heavens and into the earth, painting a warm ambience that left the air reeling for more.
At this juncture, below the surreal Clouds, would be the working mbers of the Great Households.
Gathered together for one purpose. The safety of the Family Heads.
The importance of their actions could never be understated and the necessity was not ignored.
The faster their arrival, the faster they can return to their lives and the prosperity of their Households.
But if the said Household Head were to be lost, the tension would spiral like a firecracker.
“Alright, people. Do we understand our tasks?”
Fiona Jun. 10th- tier Mage and Head of the discrete Jun Tower stood in front of the small gathering.
With arms folded and gazes locked on the prize.
Behind her stood the Crimson Do that blocked them further.
The ominous shield which swallowed the Castle and its entirety.
Nothing could be said about the Castle… but the King who was within? Hah, that caused another worry or two.
The gathering nodded and grumbled a yes in reply before dispersing themselves around the Do.
Each mber of a Household is paired with one other mber from the neighbouring Household.
Most delegates– if not all, were involved in this daring trial.
Fiona watched them depart with a calculating poise before turning to the Do ahead of her.
She took slow steps forward while Martha Jun and Redrick Jafar joined in from the sides.
And unwillingly, so did the young Prince, Thylan Swanstorm.
“Do you think it will work?” Martha asked with a steady gaze and a churning mind.
The forms of magical calculation that played out in her head were paramount to her understanding and imdiate action of her role.
‘Destroying the one thing that keeps the Vortex rays away from us?’
But what could be done?
They needed a way forward… and though, irresponsible, Fiona Jun brought one up.
“Don’t sweat it, girl.” Rebecca joked with a smirk.
“My sister is on the line…”
Just then, they stopped in front of the half-full moon opulent, crimson Do.
Their gazes stared it over like an experintal test subject.
“… I can bet all my cards on this working…”
Fiona completed her statent as she stretched her arm forward.
Imdiately, a lightning bolt struck out from her index finger in a flash, and a wand surged to life from its ashes.
A wand of golden nature and a design that spelt wild.
Redrick sighed greatly at her statent.
“The King as well.” He interjected with a downcast tone.
The two girls turned to him in unison with questioning looks, and the young Advisor shook his head in reply.
“The King’s life depends on your action as well.
Never forget that. Nothing is more important than his safety.”
Fiona arched her brow as she slowly turned to Martha who seed to have the sa expression on her face.
“Right.” They chorused and focused on the task at hand.
“Alright!”
Fiona announced.
Her voice, a projection of sound and wind that easily swayed the others.
A group of about thirteen, with Mages who hovered in the air around the Do.
The Lucia Household was paired with the Silvan Household.
With the use of divine mana, one could say that the Lucia Household were the cornerstone of their task.
It was a direct clash with Dark Mana, and its molecules were expected not just to stabilise its structure but also to destabilise it as a whole.
But expectedly, they had received help from a Priest of the Household.
A direct lineage from the Branch Family.
They had a lesser potency for Divine Mana.
‘But like I said… it was expected.’
The Lucia Household were not in any way threatened by the occurrence.
After all, their Pope, the Lady and Matriarch of the Household was by far, fine in every way.
But that was the importance of the Silvan Household.
With the purest level of mana compared to the other races, the Elves were the closest thing to Divine Mana.
And the constructive and destructive nature of their Elents, they could cause as much change as necessary in the task.
The Delegate was none other than the Lady of the Silvan Household herself and the Assistant Head, Cynthia Silvan.
Of course, purity wasn’t limited only to them.
The rmaids, and Monkeys had the sa level of purity.
With the Aquarius level of high water affinity mana and the Son Goku’s special Golden Aura.
As for the other mbers, their support was all they needed.
It was a mana contest.
And the more they poured out against it… the closer they got to causing that hole.
‘Which will of course start a chain reaction.’
Fiona breathed in once and glanced at Martha with a heavy gaze.
“Ready?”
Martha, in reply, raised her wand and channelled mana into it.
Words were not needed.
‘Alright, actions speak louder than words, I see~’
Fiona smiled sheepishly as she turned away.
“BEGIN!”
No sooner had her command left her lips than a cascade of events erupted in flawless unison.
The Elf and the divine priest moved first, their hands tracing the ancient patterns of power. One by one, the Households followed in their appointed order, until at last Fiona and Martha unleashed their energies.
The earth shattered beneath their feet as the gathered power roared alive.
Strained gazes locked on the Target, and their hearts and souls poured out in the form of various energies– until the Aegis buckled.
A transient thing. Just a nimble away from the grandeur of its sheer form.
The air flared with colour. Iridescent streams ignited the sky, weaving beauty into the chaos. But behind that fragile splendour pulsed a truth far crueller—pain, raw and unrestrained, blooming like a flower with poisoned thorns.
“Here it cos!”
Fiona’s voice broke through, high and frantic as the shift already clawed its way within her.
Magical Dos were structures crafted with a great amount of energy.
Its various forms and manifestations were hardly of concern when its durability depended squarely on how much energy was used to create it.
Most were easily destroyed with a barrage of greater attacks. Their shells cracked and shattered under the weight of a greater tide. But the few that endured were of a different breed.
They demanded not brute work, but harmony– teamwork and a large wave of opposing currents, and contrasting energies.
The greater the Do, the more energy required and for sothing such as what they faced now… they would require almost a sea of it.
Now, that was large and would take ti to even consider such an option.
‘So instead of focusing on the amounts, we focus on its control.’
And this is where the two of the most prominent Mages ca in handy.
Their task was not simple destruction but blasphemy— competing with the molecules of Dark Mana. Forcing them into vibration, collision, and implosion.
They would seize the flow and redirect it to the crown of the Do, the place least guarded, where no hand of war ever thought to strike.
But sothing as precise as that ca with its difficulties and one of such…
A shrill cry split the air, the death-wail of so great sea beast drowning in its abyss. The sound was not sound at all, but the agony of colliding forces, energies that were never ant to et thrashing inside a too-small cage.
A pulse followed. Subtle, trembling through the Do.
Then another—stronger, quicker.
And again. And again. Until seconds stretched like centuries, each beat a drum of calamity.
With every pulse the ground fractured, the sky dimd. The Do twisted upon itself, quaking as it turned—slow, ponderous, like a wheel dragged through eternity. Each arc moved with a grace both fluid and monstrous.
Then… It followed.
“The Backlash!”
Bolts erupted, torrents of light and hate shrieking into the air. They struck the ground with thunderous force, sending shockwaves that shattered earth and bone alike.
The first slamd into the Delegate of the Assassin’s Household.
It tore through him like a verdict, pain flaring so violently it dragged a bitten scream from his clenched jaw.
Then the air broke loose.
Bolts scread like vipers, snapping tendrils lashing sky and soil alike, punishing all in reach.
The figures were not left untouched.
With the Assassin first, the others followed.
One strike.
Another slash.
Another bolt.
The world was filled with the stench of seared iron, the acrid taste of blood on the tongue, the sharp tallic hum that rang like trumpets of dead giants in the heavens.
Each groundbreaking as the Last.
Fiona stord off with her thoughts as the pain surged through her body in tides.
She clasped her eyes shut, drowning herself within another blast of mana into the swirling Do.
“Almost!”
She scread through gritted teeth.
And sohow, through the roar and ruin, she heard them—the anguish of the others. The repressed guttural cries, the gasps between lashes, the trembling of knees buckling under unrelenting pain. It was all vivid. All real.
But she did not yield. She held the Do with bleeding will.
“KEEP GOING! I CAN FEEL IT!”
And indeed, she did.
The Do writhed, its lashing tendrils born of a collision that should never exist, a diabolical union of forces forbidden by the very laws of creation.
It should have killed them all. It should have been their end.
Yet still, impossibly, it shrank.
Like an inflated ego collapsing under the weight of its own emptiness, the Do was withering into itself.
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