"Let's move in. The battlefield has been purified!," Colonel Jackson commanded .
The initial attack was not ant to deliver a fatal blow to Diablo, but rather to neutralize the intense heat emanating from his domain.
Diablo's utilization of fla energy, while formidable, was inherently combined with his own energy. The very essence of his flas was in direct opposition to the holy energy wielded by the Vatican forces.
The goal was to create a balance and diminish the overwhelming influence of his demonic flas, rendering them less potent and providing an opportunity to navigate through the fiery terrain unimpeded.
"Let's go!"
SWOOOOOSH!
With their vast experience, the other powerhouse of the Vatican and the Sorcerers of the East seized this mont to attack. They propelled themselves towards Diablo, bridging the three-kiloter gap in less than a minute.
Their extraordinary abilities sustained their fast movent speed as they closed in on their target, wasting no ti in starting their assault.
Leading the charge was the Sorcerers of the East, harnessing the power of wind to move faster than the rest.
"Die, demon!" an old man wearing a long white robe snorted as he flicked his hands, holding a Chinese folding fan. The fan was adorned with a dragon pattern, and as he waved it, a powerful gale of wind began to form.
The gale transford into a colossal wind tornado, its swirling vortex expanding to an astonishing radius of 500 ters. It lood before them like an unstoppable force of nature, an imnse cyclone with howling winds that seed to devour everything in its path.
The sheer power emanating from the tempest sent tremors through the ground, shaking the very foundation of the battlefield. Debris and dust danced in the air, caught in the furious whirling motion of the tornado, as it charged forward with an unstoppable might.
Whirlwinds of razor-sharp gusts approached Diablo, slicing through the air with incredible speed and power. The battlefield ca alive with a vibrant spectacle as the wind attacks surged forth, displaying its power.
It resembled a force of nature attempting to obliterate him from existence.
"So, this is the power of a Rank SS Elentalist!" Colonel Jackson couldn't help but be shocked by the sheer destruction that a single Rank SS individual could unleash. Now, he finally understood why the United States had always been hesitant to confront the forces of the East.
The power of that tornado alone was powerful enough to potentially sink the largest aircraft carrier in the United States.
As a fellow Rank SS individual, he recognized the imnse destructive capability displayed by the wind tornado. However, despite his own formidable abilities, he harbored doubts about his ability to unleash a similar level of devastation.
The magnitude of the wind tornado left him humbled.
"Humans playing with wind," Diablo sneered in contempt.Unafraid by the ferocity of the attack, he showcased his formidable resilience, skillfully conjuring his own fla tornado to counter and deflect the incoming onslaught.
BOOOOOOM!
BOOOOOOM!
BOOOOOOM!
The clash between his fiery tornado and the wind tornado resulted in a cataclysmic explosion, generating shock waves that engulfed the surroundings, throwing the entire area into chaos.
Spotting an opening from the clash, Diablo harnessed his fire as if it were a jet engine, propelling himself forward to imdiately close the gap between him and the Elentalist who had initiated the first attack.
SWOOOOSH!
"Die, you insect!" he appeared in front of the old man , his fist ablaze with stored fla energy. He was prepared to kill the Elentalist's with a single devastating strike.
BOOOOOM! I think you should take a look at
Diablo's fist made direct contact with the old man's face, generating an impact so powerful that the resulting explosion echoed like the detonation of an atomic bomb.
But instead of enjoying his first kill , he realized he had been deceived. The image of the Elentalist swiftly dissipated, as if it had been nothing more than an illusion, leaving Diablo bewildered and caught off guard.
"Where is that old man?" As Diablo hover in the air, bewildered by the vanishing illusion, a sense of foreboding filled the air. From the depths of the ground, an invisible chains began to erge, rapidly propelling their way towards him.
"A trap?" His instincts flared, sensing that sothing was amiss.
CHING!
But before he could react, the chains tightened, ensnaring his body completely, leaving him immobilized , his fiery power rendered useless against the mysterious force that had captured him.
"Diablo, surrender now! Your reign of evil ends here!" Archbishop Sebastian Moretti's voice echoed with unwavering conviction. As his words resounded, the previously invisible chains that held Diablo began to materialize, gleaming with a radiant golden light.
Each link seed to symbolize the binding of all evil , a holy force that sought to put an end to Diablo's wicked existence .
"Hypocrites," Diablo's eyes glead with defiance as he sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance.
"Surrender? ? Don't push your luck mortals! I am the Lord of fla, and no mortal, no matter how righteous you pretend, shall make yield! Hahaha!" He laughed manically, confident in his perceived superiority and the audacity of those who dared challenge him.
Not willing to let Diablo seize the montum, the leader of the Archbishop raised his voice, his words resounding across the battlefield.
"Your twisted reign of terror ends today, Diablo! We fight in the na of justice, for the innocent souls you have tornted. Prepare to face the consequences of your sins!"
The Archbishop's declaration pierced through the tension, carrying with it a collective determination and a righteous cause.
"Judgnt Call!" Archbishop Sebastian spoke with unwavering resolve, and in response, a colossal angel with five pairs of wings materialized above Diablo.
With a mighty sword gripped firmly in its hands, the divine being exuded a strong aura of power, waiting to unleash its formidable might upon the below it.
"You think I will just stand here and let that fake angel kill ?" Diablo sneered. Suddenly, an imnse surge of power emanated from his body, causing the chains that bound him to strain as if on the verge of breaking.
However, to his surprise, the chains grew stronger instead, their resilience reinforced.
He observed his surrounding, and saw three additional Vatican people erged, each summoning their own high ranking angels to lend their energy to sustain the chain's power.
"Lend us your power, oh holy one,"
"Lend us your power, oh holy one,"
"Lend us your power, oh holy one,"
Then the priest from afar also prayed in unison.
As if responding to the call, a multitude of low-ranking artificial angels joined in, their sheer numbers interlinking with the chains. The combined efforts aid to fortify the bindings, preventing the Diablo from breaking free and ensuring he remained contained.
On the ground.
"Damn, are we really needed here?" Colonel Jackson couldn't help but experience conflicting emotions. Was this truly a mission of subjugation? His doubts and suspicions crept into his mind, casting a shadow over the true nature of their involvent in this battle.
He pondered whether the Vatican had simply invited them here to showcase their power. He couldn't help but find the scene rather ironic .It struck him that the strategy being employed by the Vatican, showcasing their power , was the sa tactics often used by the United States during tis of war.
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