CHAPTER 838: THE POWER OF THE SUN

The coordination and teamwork of the Skeletal Beasts were nothing short of terrifying. Despite their grotesque appearance—fleshless forms, jagged bones, and pulsating energy—they moved with eerie precision. Each beast adapted to the terrain seamlessly, flanking enemies, covering their comrades, and providing support with flawless efficiency. It was like watching a hive mind of decay and ruin.

Yet, the Reapers of the Xaos Kingdom did not falter. Clad in bioengineered armor, they held the line with inhuman discipline. Even as the skeletal tide surged forward, the Reapers countered with expert precision. With every strike, another abomination fell, the battlefield littered with shattered bone and blackened marrow. Slowly, methodically, the Reapers began to pull back in perfect formation, before splitting, leaving a clear view of the Skeletal Beasts ahead.

Then it happened.

"BOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!"

A deafening barrage of energy cannon fire tore through the air as the Xaos Tanks unleashed their fury. Hundreds of skeletal beasts disintegrated in a single, blinding volley. Fire and plasma consumed the frontlines. The battlefield erupted in a symphony of destruction. But the Xaos forces were just getting started. Within seconds, the tank-mounted auto-cannons began to whir and release tens of thousands of miniature incendiary spheres. Each one detonated on impact, sending shockwaves of heat and shrapnel through the monstrous formations.

For a few glorious seconds, the monsters were thrown into chaos. Their formations broke. Their charge staggered. Casualties mounted rapidly among their ranks.

But these were not mindless creatures.

The Skeletal Beasts quickly adapted. They split into smaller hunting packs and began utilizing the terrain—crumbling ice, ridges, and trenches—to shield themselves from direct fire. Worse still, several of the largest Abominations, towering horrors stitched together from hundreds of corpses, began to retaliate.

Dozens of their grotesque mouths opened wide, and from within, they spewed spheres of noxious gas and acidic venom at supersonic speeds.

The results were horrifying.

Several Reapers were caught in the blast, their advanced armor sizzling and melting under the corrosive power of the abominations’ toxic barrage. Even Xaos soldiers screamed in agony as their flesh sloughed off, consumed by alchemical poisons.

The deaths of their comrades struck like a blade through the hearts of the survivors. But Xaos warriors were not novices. Grief had no place on a battlefield. Emotion was a luxury they could not afford. Without hesitation, they pressed forward.

The Xaos Tanks continued their bombardment, adjusting their trajectories with precise calculations, while the Reapers resumed control of the vanguard. From the flanks, the Xaos foot soldiers surged forth. They struck with ruthless efficiency—no hesitation, no mercy.

Above them, the Royal Guards and battle-hardened Sages watched with grim approval. Roman, Frank, Clasius, Mirena, and Amara moved like blurs of divine fury through the skies. Each one a master of combat, each unleashing powerful incantations and weaponized energy with flawless coordination. Together, they tore through the flying horrors with disciplined rage.

"ROOOAARRR!"

A massive roar echoed across the sky as Fang ripped through a formation of airborne abominations like a force of nature. His claws shredded bone. His fangs cracked skulls. He fought without fear, immune to the poisons that corrupted the skies. Beside him soared the Sky Fighter, the legendary automaton of the Xaos Kingdom. Its mechanical hands pulsed with devastating energy as it fired laser beams that burned holes the size of siege towers through its enemies.

It was a hard, bloody fight—one that pushed everyone to the brink.

And while the ground battle was slowly tilting in favor of the Xaos Kingdom, high above in the storm-wracked skies, a very different story was unfolding.

Jormungandr fought with unmatched power. Lightning coursed along his massive body, arcing across the sky as he moved with impossible speed. His strikes came like thunderbolts, infused with void energy drawn from the depths of the universe. Each tail whip was a living weapon. Each beam of plasma he launched could level cities.

But Atila was faster. More skilled. His strength wasn’t just raw might. It was precision. It was experience. It was unrelenting mastery of war.

He anticipated Jormungandr’s movements, sidestepped massive lightning blasts, and redirected tail strikes with eerie ease. His chipped sword, pulsating with ancient energy, didn’t slice—it obliterated. Every swing brought ruin.

And yet, Jormungandr endured. His Depravita Constitution allowed him to regenerate almost instantly, feeding on the corrupt energy of the void to mend wounds that would kill lesser beings.

Their battle intensified.

Jormungandr fired a wide arc of lightning from his maw. Atila dodged mid-air, spun like a comet, and countered with a blow that cratered the snake’s ribcage.

The strike made the True Depravita of Gluttony’s massive body tremble, but before he entity could capitalize on the wound, he unleashed a shockwave from his body, pushing Atila into the sky.

Atila immediately regained control over his body and released a downward slash, riding the shockwave like a platform, using it to close the gap and stab Jormungandr in the side.

Lightning surged across the battlefield as the two collided head-on, Jormungandr’s tail striking against Atila’s blade, causing an explosion that turned the skies into a burning tempest.

Jormungandr pushed his strength to the limit, melting into lightning and reappearing above his foe and striking with his tail, but Atila was ready and responded with all his power, flooding the sky in lightning and fire.

As the fight reached its zenith, Atila rose to the edge of the stratosphere. His body ignited in a corona of solar fire. His sword burned like a newborn sun. Then, with a primal roar, he swung the weapon downward.

A massive solar wave descended.

It wasn’t just an attack—it was an extinction event.

Jormungandr’s eyes widened. If he dodged, the wave would crash into the Ice Cube, annihilating everyone below. Civilians. Soldiers. All gone. He could not let that happen.

His body began to glow—brighter and brighter—until it eclipsed the light of the solar wave. With a roar that echoed through time itself, Jormungandr unleashed his final card.

An ocean of lightning erupted from his core, ascending in defiance, clashing with the solar inferno. Heaven met hell as fire and thunder collided.

The two powers warred above the frozen fortress.