Chapter 1090: The Witch’s Confession
This Dais of Judgnt was nothing like the one Orion had entered before. Summoned by a demigod, the dueling grounds had been replaced by a star-strewn cosmos. The only familiar sight was the four colossal statues of the gods, now more brilliant and massive than ever, their features slowly sharpening as they stared down from the void.
"Praise the Four Gods!"
"May the glory of the Four Gods shine upon all living things!"
Konak, Yriel, and the clown spoke in unison, their voices combining to activate a powerful divine ward. In that instant, the song of a god echoed through the void, Holy Spirits sang hymns of praise, and a sacred light bathed The Dais of Judgnt.
Amidst the endless radiance, a golden barrier rose, etched with glowing runes and shimring with starlight, as divine beings materialized within it to offer prayers. Three pillars of light descended upon Konak, Yriel, and the clown, clothing them in divine battle plate, crowning them with divine coronets, and draping them in golden vestnts.
It was a Divine Art, one that only those at the rank of Pontiff or higher in the Cult of Four could learn: [Divine Art: Sacred Coronation].
With its completion, the starry cosmos of The Dais of Judgnt was transford into a consecrated domain.
"Space is locked down," the Deputy Commander analyzed, his voice calm. "The fundantal elents of magic are being repelled, and dark energies will be suppressed."
Though his avatar was that of a necromancer and dealt with dark arts, he wasn’t reliant on the fundantal elent of darkness. Necromancers drew their power from the soul and the raw essence of death.
Facing the enemy’s divine power, the Deputy Commander crushed a skull Arthas had handed him, while his left hand closed around a brilliant soul gem. With a wave of his staff, three cloaks of black, burning fire appeared, draping themselves over his, Arthas’s, and Alexander’s shoulders.
But he wasn’t finished. He drew a line in the void with his staff, and a ward of pure, absolute darkness coalesced around the three of them, repelling the sacred light of the Cult of Four.
A strange tableau was created in the void: one half, a realm of divine, radiant light; the other, a pit of abyssal darkness.
"The Silverwood Realm is a land illuminated by the glory of the Four Gods," the clown’s voice announced. It was cold, stripped of its forr chanical quality, and replaced with an unreadable apathy. "All who trespass here will be purged."
"Leaping clowns," Alexander sneered. "To hell with your Four Gods!"
As he spoke, he slashed out with his sword, sending a wave of energy arcing through the void. A golden ward simply shimred into existence around the clown, neutralizing the attack effortlessly.
"All invaders are heretics," Konak bood, not to be outdone. As Alexander attacked, a ball of golden fire coalesced in his hands. It swelled and intensified, taking the form of a towering Fla Titan, which then charged, its fists hamring against the dark ward protecting the three heroes.
The battle of the demigods had begun.
Below, on the Front Lines.
With the demigods locked away in The Dais of Judgnt, Orion’s Deathly Soul-Reaper was once again the most powerful being on the field. And the most powerful being always becos the primary target.
"An angel never knows its own na until its wings are clipped," a voice whispered. "In the darkness, do you know who you are?"
The darkness fell without a sound, without warning. Orion knew instantly that it was no re illusion. Sever, who had been standing right behind his Deathly Soul-Reaper, was gone. Even the four skeletal undead—Bone White, Bone Red, Bone Green, and Bone Blue—who had been nearby, had vanished.
"Witch?"
Though he didn’t know what kind of spell this was, Orion felt no panic. He had a good idea who was targeting him. In a war where the demigods were locked in a stalemate, his Deathly Soul-Reaper Avatar, an arch lord at the apex of its power, was the most dangerous piece on the board.
"Hee hee... so it’s you. The giant with all that power," the Witch’s voice echoed from all directions at once, its location impossible to pinpoint. "I’m so jealous. To possess such a rare avatar..."
A sense of dread crept over Orion. The Witch had seen through the Deathly Soul-Reaper’s nature. This avatar was now a known quantity, a marked target. Just as he had imdiately guessed his attacker was the Witch, she had instantly recognized him from his single word.
"Sigh... whenever I think back on my days in the Champions Alliance, I rember how happy I was," she murmured, her tone turning wistful. "Giant, would you like to hear my story?"
Orion remained silent. He had already deduced that her spell was likely soul-related. That was the only way it could have so perfectly isolated him from Sever and the others. This ant that wherever he was standing now, it was probably no longer the front lines of the battlefield.
"It was in the Abyss, in a dark and dismal cavern, that I first awoke," she began, her spectral voice bypassing his ears and speaking directly into his mind. "Pain, jealousy, hatred, slaughter... those were the first emotions I ever knew."
"I was terrified, angry, helpless, anxious... everything around
was a shadow, pulling
down, and I began to fall."
"Until I t the commander. He was a light, illuminating the path before
in the Abyss."
"I rember... there were others with him then. There was Edward, Arthas, Alexander, Leonidas, the clown... and the Queen."
Her voice faltered and then stopped completely, as if the final na had caught in her throat, severing her train of thought. After a long, heavy silence, her voice returned from the darkness.
"We invaded the Godforsaken Land together, went on cross-realm invasions together... we ran together, hiding from those who hunted us. We drank together, worked as rcenaries in other worlds, basked in the sun on foreign beaches, and fought back our enemies, side-by-side."
The picture she painted was of beautiful, carefree days. Her tone was thick with a longing nostalgia.
"One day, the clown ca to . He asked, ’Do you want to live forever? Do you want to stay young and beautiful for all ti?’"
"’I do,’ I told him. ’Of course I do. I want to be with everyone, happy like this, forever.’"
"That was my answer."
Her voice grew smaller and smaller, fading into an almost inaudible whisper before falling silent again.
"Later, the clown introduced
to one of the Cult of Four’s Archbishops. I was bewitched by their honeyed words. I joined them."
"Gradually, with the clown’s guidance, I lost myself, bit by bit. I turned away from the light that had once guided ."
"I started feeding them information. About the others in the Champions Alliance. The Queen... Leonidas... Alexander... and finally, the commander."
The faint sound of sobbing began to echo in the darkness, a sound of such profound, twisting grief it could make a stone weep.
"I never imagined... the god behind the Cult of four had its eyes on the commander. It wanted him as a sacrifice. As a vessel for its own incarnation into this world."
"Damn him... it was all the clown’s doing! He was the one who betrayed the commander! He was the one who ambushed the Queen’s true form and caused her to fall!"
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