Her whispers echoed softly along the ancient stone walls—faint, sacred words carried by faith.
"May Radiance be cast down... May we be freed from his chains…"
Once Michael confird that the array was fully charged, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
The array beneath his hand pulsed like a living heart, sending irregular bursts of light through the room. His mana flowed directly into the core, lding with the ancient system.
He focused his mind on the coordinates—provided to him by Drake through the communicator—and the numbers began to align in his consciousness like pieces of a puzzle.
Though the chamber around him was silent, the power building in the array felt intense—chaotic, even.
Suddenly, the surface of the lake stilled completely.
The glowing glyphs on the ceiling blazed brighter, casting a divine aura throughout the entire temple.
Michael's voice rang out in the chamber.
"Now!"
He surged his final wave of mana into the array, aligning the spatial coordinates perfectly in his mind. The room shimred with light, responding to his call.
Lucrezia's eyes remained on him the entire ti, her prayer now silent but her faith unwavering.
And then—she whispered the activation incantation:
[Motus exsurgat!]
The vortex of mana settled in an instant, and all its power converged on Michael.
His form began to blur, glowing faintly like a mirage.
Monts later, his body dissolved into the light, vanishing completely as the array let out a final burst—like a cracking star—before going still.
The temple fell quiet once more.
Lucrezia slowly lowered her hands and drew a long, calming breath. Relief washed over her features—Michael had made it through.
The glowing waters cald again, and the ancient glyphs faded into dormancy.
Though Lucrezia's soul had long since been freed from her body, the emotional fla within her still burned fiercely. Her hatred for Radiance smoldered, hotter than ever.
That emotion had beco sharper with ti, a passion that sustained her long past death.
Kneeling before the cold stone floor, she placed her hands on the aged tiles.
Though only a spirit, the sensations imprinted in her mory still felt painfully real.
She whispered softly.
"May the flas protect our new lord…"
Her words rippled softly through the chamber, echoing through stone and mory alike.
"And may he… obtain all that he desires."
The prayer that blossod in her heart was genuine.
In her eyes, Michael was the only one who could restore order to the world—and avenge the centuries of injustice she had endured.
As the temple's walls absorbed her whispered vow, Lucrezia finally closed her eyes.
The chamber, once again, beca still.
The mysterious island, shrouded in thick fog, felt like another world entirely—cut off from the rest of the earth.
At the island's center stood a massive altar that looked like the ruins of an ancient structure. Around it, rows of monks in black robes stood in eerie silence.
Their hoods were pulled low, obscuring their faces, but the low, echoing chants that spilled from their lips sent a chill across the entire island.
A fla blazed atop the altar.
But it was no ordinary fla.
It writhed as if it had a will of its own, constantly changing shape, circling the altar like a living entity.
The louder the monks chanted, the fiercer the fire grew. And within that fla, living sacrifices scread and thrashed desperately.
Bound upon the altar were victims—worshippers of foreign gods, captured mages and scholars once known across the continent.
Whether they were truly heretics or not, that judgnt belonged solely to the Silent Priests.
The fire consud them slowly, licking at their flesh as they writhed in terror and agony. And with each life extinguished in fla, the chanting grew even more fervent.
"We offer this to Radiance!"
Their unified shout echoed across the entire island, shaking the very mist surrounding it.
With each wailing cry and crackle of fla, the magical barrier enveloping the island thickened—its surface pulsing with life-like energy, casting an azure glow.
As the barrier solidified, the fla began to rise—radiating outward from the center of the island like a blazing sun, snaking along the sea toward the lone ship awaiting offshore.
Aboard the vessel, Drake stood unmoving, his eyes locked onto the center of the island.
From within the island's shield, the flas surged outward—reaching across the water like a predator ready to pounce. The magic ship beneath him groaned faintly as the heat pressed in.
"The fire's spreading over the sea!"
One of the newly recruited sailors cried out, panic tightening his voice.
But while his crew stirred in alarm, Drake remained calm. The island still echoed with the chanting of monks, their devotion fueling the unnatural fla and tightening the barrier's grip.
Above the altar, the fire burned upward like a column of divine wrath. Within the flas, a mirage—Radiance's form—wavered ominously.
Drake stepped toward the helm at the ship's center.
The steering device of the magic ship was no ordinary wheel—it was a pendant hung around his neck. Engraved with ancient runes, the pendant began to flicker softly with blue light as he activated it.
He spoke a firm incantation:
"Adstrictum fluctibus, protegat navem am!"
As his voice rang out, soft blue light rippled across the ship's surface, wrapping the vessel in a shimring protective shield.
When the fire finally reached the ship, licking at its hull, the blue shield flared and deflected the flas without flinching.
The fire lashed again and again, but the magical barrier held strong.
Relief washed over Johannes, one of the sailors, as he saw the fire repelled. Next to him, the sa crewman who had panicked earlier whispered:
"Thank the heavens. The barrier's holding."
But Drake wasn't celebrating. His gaze remained locked on the island.
"Stand by at your stations. This won't be their only attack," he warned.
Gripping the pendant once more, Drake adjusted the ship's heading, tracking the motion of the next fiery assault.
The barrier surrounding them was intact, glowing brilliantly—but he could still feel the oppressive pressure from the island itself.
Johannes remained at his post, clenching the rigging. His mories of the horrors he'd endured under Radiance's regi burned freshly in his mind.
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