The Twilight Revenants surged forward, their spectral forms twisting against the brilliance that surrounded her. Astraia raised her sword, calling forth a Celestial Barrage—a rapid flurry of strikes infused with divine energy, each blow releasing arcs of radiant light that sliced through multiple enemies in a single motion.
Her sword humd with power as she twirled, slashing horizontally, cleaving two Revenants in half, their forms scattering like smoke on the wind.
But the Revenants adapted quickly. One managed a glancing blow, a shadowy slash grazing her forearm, searing her skin with corrupted mana.
Her expression tightened.
She shifted stance, invoking Sanctified Veil, a defensive aura that shimred like translucent silk around her, absorbing the lingering mana attacks and stabilizing her energy.
Astraia dashed forward, moving fluidly between enemies, her swordplay a masterful blend of speed and precision. Each strike was punctuated by bursts of divine light, the Sword Saint’s Blessing amplifying her physical prowess and mana regeneration.
Despite her strength, fatigue crept in.
The Revenants pressed harder, weaving intricate attack patterns designed to overwhelm.
She parried a spinning slash, countered with a piercing thrust, and then vaulted backward to create distance.
Her breathing quickened, but she remained focused.
The celestial energy surrounding her flared brightly as she prepared to unleash her ultimate technique — Radiant Crescendo — a sweeping arc of pure light capable of decimating anything caught within its path.
With a fierce battle cry, Astraia surged forward, sword tracing a blazing arc that tore through the Revenants, scattering them with divine fury.
Yet, even after the onslaught, a few Revenants staggered, their corrupted wills unbroken.
She steadied herself, sweat beading on her brow, and readied for the next strike.
Astraia’s breathing grew ragged as she watched the remaining Revenants regroup, shifting unnaturally across the cracked stone of her arena.
Their eyes glowed a deeper blue now—smarter, more aggressive. One of them screeched, and the others followed, charging again in synchronized formation.
Her blade trembled faintly in her grip—not from fear, but the strain of overextending.
"They’re learning too quickly. Adapting. I won’t make it to the boss if this keeps up."
She slid back a step, dodging a high slash that would’ve torn into her collarbone. Another Revenant lunged from her right—she parried, sparks of divine light exploding between their blades.
"If I use that skill, there’s no holding back. No turning back."
Her grip tightened.
"But I’m not here to fall short. I’m here to prove why I’m number one—why I deserve to fight beside him."
She pivoted, cutting down another with a quick Dawnpiercer Slash, but three more ca from behind. Her cloak tore as a blade grazed her shoulder.
"Tch. That’s enough."
With a flare of holy energy, Astraia’s voice rang through her mind like a prayer and a promise.
"If I walk with the Sword Saint, then I will wield his judgnt."
She planted her feet, sword lowered in front of her chest, two fingers resting along the flat of the blade. Light gathered around her form—blinding and golden, her hair lifting from the sheer force of her Patron’s blessing.
"Divine Style – Dawn Execution Form."
The Revenants hesitated. The air warped, humming as if in reverence.
Astraia’s body moved with practiced resolve, her steps gliding like flowing water. Her sword beca a streak of light. She vanished in a flash—then reappeared behind the nearest enemy.
A clean slash tore through the Revenant. It froze, blade still raised—then collapsed in pieces, purified completely.
The others reacted, trying to encircle her again—but she was already in motion.
One by one, she struck with precise arcs, tracing lines of light across the battlefield. Each motion of her blade sang with celestial weight—a sentence passed, a judgnt delivered.
"This ends here."
She landed in the center of the last cluster, drawing her sword back for one final move.
"Dawn’s Final rcy."
A radiant pillar of divine light burst upward from beneath her, engulfing all remaining enemies in a vertical blast that pierced the clouds above the Labyrinth. The ground split from the force. The howls stopped.
Silence.
The Revenants were gone—disintegrated in golden ash.
Astraia staggered, lowering her sword, its edge cracked and glowing faintly.
"...I didn’t want to use that so soon," she thought, wiping blood from her cheek. "But I can’t afford to fall behind him. Not now."
She exhaled deeply, straightening her stance as the divine glow dimd.
-
The mont Astraia’s Dawn’s Final rcy erupted across her arena, the world watching outside the Labyrinth reacted like a tidal wave.
The system’s live broadcast was displayed across every major news outlet, Rift Hub, and even outdoor city screens. Davao’s streets slowed. Malls froze. Airport terminals echoed with gasps. The golden column of divine judgnt tearing through the sky was impossible to ignore.
-
ASTRAL COMMUNITY — GLOBAL THREAD LOG
@VassalWatchOfficial
REPLAYING IN SLOW-MO
What in the actual divine hell did Astraia just do!? That was a unique skill, right? So kind of fusion art??
[ 24,103 replies]
[108,004 likes]
@GuildSeer88
Her blade—did you see it crack after that? That wasn’t normal. She pushed it past its limit.
Blank isn’t the only monster in that arena. We’re witnessing sothing else now.
[12,905 replies]
@Nael_Glassblade (Guildmaster – Iron Valor)
Watching Astraia push that far... This isn’t just skill.
That’s a declaration.
To Blank.
To all of us.
[8,000 reposts]
-
In the Skybound Tower, one of the tallest buildings in Manila, Guildmaster Renn Halvyr stood in silence beside a screen. Tall, gray-eyed, with streaks of white through his otherwise jet-black hair, he stared at the divine aftermath.
"She cracked the earth," he murmured.
Beside him, Guildmaster Tyrn Calderon—broad-shouldered and covered in scars—let out a low whistle. "You think that’s her final card?"
"No." Renn folded his arms. "But it confirms one thing."
"What?"
"She’s treating Blank not like a rival—" he glanced toward the screen showing Blank’s arena, afla and rippling with erased mana "—but like a asure. A standard."
"Dangerous," Tyrn said.
Their third, Guildmaster Eris Velmara, the youngest of the three and a tactical genius known for her cruelty in the Labyrinth, smiled coldly. "No. That’s hopeful. Because I still think she’ll break before he does."
Reviews
All reviews (0)