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Chapter 869: Separate Haven

When Mitchelle had said she would be watching, she hadn’t been lying purely to tease, for in the very next heartbeat her body blurred and reappeared upon the surface of a distant moon. Although battle cries, death howls, and the endless rumble of cosmic destruction echoed violently all around her, she paid them no mind.

The cacophony simply drowned into insignificance as she narrowed her focus upon the Pervy Sage, who, by the way, was already struggling desperately to keep up with the eleven-winged Angel tearing through existence before him.

Her eyes drifted to the side, her clairvoyance ability guiding her attention toward Vega’s location as she sought her out. ’She has gotten stronger again,’ she murmured softly to herself, a calm smile touching her lips. The battlefield around her was collapsing, space wavering under the pressure of divine and tearing energies alike, yet she observed it all with the serene indifference of one accustod to calamity.

Then her clairvoyance shifted toward her son, Anthony. But the instant her senses settled upon him, she froze. Shock rippled through her features, her ability insisting that the demonic, armored being radiating pure chaotic energy... was her son. Mitchelle stared at the armored figure who moved with a strangely malicious rhythm, his presence warping the cosmic winds around him.

She recognized him, of course, no mother could fail to, but she could not fathom when or how he had gained the ability to wield chaotic energy. It defied logic, defied explanation, and defied every known rule of existence.

But the next second, she stopped questioning. This was Anthony they were talking about. The boy possessed countless skills and abilities none could trace, not even she or Michael. She had personally watched him change the race of the Second Supre Monarch, witnessed him rewrite energy itself as though it were a re suggestion rather than a law of reality. By that logic, being able to use chaotic energy seed literally... acceptable. Ridiculously abnormal, yes, but in Anthony’s case, disturbingly normal.

Her gaze shifted once more, this ti toward the Pervy Sage, who had already lost an arm. He was battered, bruised, and barely maintaining consciousness, yet he continued casting one planetary level spell after another with unbroken determination. Each spell detonated with cataclysmic force, but his celestial opponent countered every one with insulting ease, as though toying with him.

Suddenly, the air scread. A sharp whistle sliced through the cosmic winds as the tip of a golden spear tore across the void, descending straight toward Mitchelle’s skull with murderous precision. She didn’t bother turning around. Her hand simply blurred upward; between her index and middle fingers, she caught the spear effortlessly, halting its montum as though it were a child’s toy.

Her blue eyes slowly lifted toward her attacker, a ten-winged Angel. "Haven’t you seen

slaughter Angels of your power level? Is your belief in your God truly that extre?" she asked, her tone neither cruel nor mocking, rely curious in a detached, almost pitying way.

The Angel tried to retract his spear, but it was already too late. Mitchelle gently twisted her two fingers, and the golden weapon shattered instantly into glittering fragnts. The Angel froze, shock widening his golden eyes as he watched the shards scatter across the void.

Even if Mitchelle was a mage, she was still a Planetary-level existence, and not just any Planetary being. Her physical strength, while not on the level of Michael or Anthony, was still ridiculous enough to crush most celestial creatures with ease.

The Angel flapped his wings frantically, attempting to retreat, but all he saw was a single fist filling his vision, Mitchelle’s fist. With a sickening crack, the Angel’s head burst like a ripe waterlon, golden blood and bone fragnts exploding across the cosmic landscape. His lifeless body plumted onto the moon with a dull thud.

"At the end of the day, it seems you ended up needing saving," Mitchelle stated calmly, already forgetting the Angel she had obliterated with a single blow. Her attention was fixed on one thing only, the Pervy Sage.

Space twisted, the void bending around her as she vanished and reappeared before Azarion StarWeaver, who was battered, breathing heavily, and monts away from being killed by another devastating attack.

[Void Magic: Separate Haven]

Her voice echoed sharply the mont she appeared. Mana surged from her core, tearing through the cosmic sky with a suffocating, overwhelming force as she commanded the void itself. Reality buckled. The void detached from space, folding in on itself and enclosing both her and Azarion within a separate void, a sanctuary outside the current layer of existence.

The attack ant to end Azarion bypassed them harmlessly, slipping past as though they were nothing more than illusions. And in truth, within that mont, they existed nowhere at all.

Inside the isolated void, Mitchelle turned toward Azarion with a faint smile. "It seems you couldn’t win after all."

Azarion sighed heavily. He had battled the eleven-winged Angel and lost. His pride, his most cherished armor, had shattered. The truth settled heavily within him: no matter his determination, he could not bridge the chasm between their powers.

Mitchelle shook her head, imagining the blow Azarion’s pride must have taken, being saved by a woman, and worse, one who made the impossible look effortless. With a thought, she deactivated her spell. Reality folded around them, and they appeared back in the uppermost layer of existence.

Without wasting even a split nanosecond, she cast another spell, her voice dripping with confidence, elegance, and absolute dominion over the power she wielded.

[Solar Magic: Radiant Overload]

Mana surged again from her core, roaring outward like an ocean finally unbound. A torrent of molten gold erupted from her fra, a searing cascade that swept across the void like a cot trailing blazing embers. The energy expanded exponentially, scorching the cosmos with the rciless intensity of a thousand suns, reducing constellations to ash in its wake.

But the eleven-winged Angel refused to be outdone. Faith energy burst from its body, climbing with each passing millisecond as it cast its own spell.

[Divine Magic: Holy Embrace]

Faith condensed with a deafening blast, forming a radiant cocoon that enveloped the Angel in blinding Holy light. A heartbeat later, Mitchelle’s attack crashed into the cocoon with constellation-shattering force. The barrier trembled violently, stars flickering and then snuffing out as the collision continued to ravage the fabric of space.

Azarion StarWeaver could only watch, awed, humbled, and deeply shaken, as Mitchelle effortlessly held back an opponent he could not even stand against with a single spell. Such was the might and power she possessed and commanded.

She wasn’t called the Elental Queen or the Crimson Witch Of Destruction for nothing.

________

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey everyone, need your golden tickets please! Also, the Chapters tomorrow might not co, due to

making arrangents for travel plans. Rember, I said "might". The Chapters might co or they might not.

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