CHAPTER 745: DELUSIONAL

VMMM—!

The air tore open with a thunderous pulse, rippling outward in concentric waves.

A moment later, the Sky Citadel army surged into view, emerging from the light in tight formation, their killing intent rolling in like a tide.

At the head stood their commander.

He had wings—scaled, draconic, gleaming with a metallic sheen—and his presence was so immense it felt like the very energy of the battlefield bent toward him, siphoned into his orbit.

A 24-Tier powerhouse, early stage.

Behind him, the Sky Citadel soldiers bristled with raw strength, their faces hard, their bodies radiating power. Each one had clearly undergone bloodline enhancement—these weren’t ordinary troops. They were bred for war.

Ethan narrowed his eyes.

No hesitation. His power surged outward in a sudden burst, and orbs of energy began to condense in the air around him, forming with blinding speed.

Then he flicked his hand.

The orbs shot forward like a sudden downpour.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM—!

The Sky Citadel forces hadn’t expected him to strike first. Caught off guard, they scrambled to raise energy shields, barely managing to block the barrage.

Ethan didn’t waste the opening.

He pulled up his system interface, scanning the enemy formation. Data streamed across his vision.

Every Sky Citadel soldier carried multiple hybrid bloodlines.

At least two. Some had three or four.

And the man with the dragon wings at the front...

The name flashed across the interface:

Karthosk.

His bloodline data flickered wildly:

Six distinct bloodlines.

Dragon. Demon...

Six different bloodlines coexisting in one body.

Merged. Interwoven. Amplified.

The resulting power was—frankly—absurd.

Ethan’s chest tightened.

The Emerald Castle army was slightly outmatched, but not hopelessly so.

He summoned his strength and gave the order without pause:

"All units—attack!"

The two armies collided in an instant.

Steel clashed. Energy detonated. The battlefield erupted into chaos.

Sky Citadel’s 26th layer was vast—so vast that even tens of thousands of soldiers didn’t crowd it. The space was reinforced to a terrifying degree; even the most violent attacks only stirred faint ripples across the stone walls.

Ethan locked onto his target and launched himself at Karthosk.

The moment their powers collided, the shockwave knocked back everyone nearby.

The force of it split them apart again.

Karthosk roared, voice booming like thunder:

"You stubborn fool! Sky Citadel has offered you the title of Lord three times—and you refused! And now you dare bring your army to the 26th layer?!"

His fury cracked the air.

"If you’re so eager to die—then I’ll oblige!"

A massive warhammer materialized in his hands.

Its surface was etched with golden runes, each one writhing like a living thing, radiating an ancient, space-warping power.

Ethan didn’t flinch.

He raised his hand, and energy surged like a tidal wave. A long blade formed in his grip.

This wasn’t just any weapon—

Its edge held the dual essence of the Scepter of the Fey Sovereign and the Blade of the Fey. Light shimmered along its surface, and the pressure it exuded made the very air tremble.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH—!

They clashed midair, again and again, blade and hammer colliding with thunderous force.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM—!!!

Power poured from them in waves, distorting the space around them.

The air buckled, collapsed, mended—then collapsed again.

Karthosk gritted his teeth, eyes flashing with disbelief.

"He’s pushing me this far?"

With a furious roar, he unleashed everything.

All six bloodlines ignited at once, roaring like mythical beasts inside him.

He had no choice—he poured it all into the warhammer.

The weapon blazed with blinding light, its runes flaring like wildfire.

Ethan knew exactly what that meant.

Even with his strength brushing the edge of 24 Tier, he couldn’t withstand the full force of Karthosk’s sixfold bloodline eruption.

So he didn’t try.

He called a name.

"Feylora."

The moment the word left his lips, a streak of silver-green light darted across the battlefield like a living spirit.

Feylora hovered in the air, her energy surging like a tidal wave—far beyond what any standard vanguard should possess.

In the Emerald Castle hierarchy, she was both spearhead and lifeline—Ethan’s personal magic reservoir, a living source of power.

She flew to his back, hands pressing against his shoulder blades.

And then—

BOOM—!

BOOM BOOM BOOM—!

Her Fey energy burst into him like a dam breaking, flooding his body and merging seamlessly with his own.

The pure, potent magic raced through his veins, and his aura skyrocketed.

Under this surge, Ethan’s power—already at the peak of 23 Tier—suddenly exploded upward, breaching the threshold in a single, violent leap.

He didn’t fully ascend to 24 Tier.

But in that moment of fusion—

He matched it.

The space around him warped, stretched, and shuddered under the pressure.

Karthosk’s eyes went wide, pupils contracting.

"This... impossible! How can you—"

He didn’t finish.

Ethan was already on him, moving like lightning.

Whoosh!

Ethan’s fingertip landed dead center on Karthosk’s forehead.

It wasn’t just a strike—it was a surgical touch, aimed precisely at the convergence point of all six of Karthosk’s bloodlines.

A surge of raw, violent energy shot into him.

The intricate web of power inside Karthosk unraveled in an instant.

"Wait—"

BOOM!!!

His body detonated from the inside out, torn apart by the force. Flesh and bone scattered in a red mist.

He didn’t even have time to scream.

With their commander obliterated, the Sky Citadel troops faltered. Panic rippled through their ranks, and the Emerald Castle army surged forward like a tidal wave, swallowing them whole.

The battle rolled on, relentless.

Within minutes, they had stormed through to the 28th layer, wiping out every last remnant of resistance.

But then—

As the final enemy fell, silence dropped over the battlefield like a curtain.

Across the space, at the far edge of the layer, a figure stood.

Unmoving. Watching.

He wore a mask etched with strange, shifting runes, and his body was draped in ornaments—symbols of authority, ritual, and ancient pacts. They clinked softly as he breathed.

But the most unsettling thing was the staff in his hand.

It pulsed with warped energy—not rage, not bloodlust, but something far more disturbing.

It felt like... love.

Twisted, invasive love.

Wherever he stood, the emotional atmosphere bent around him, like invisible strings pulling at the hearts of everyone nearby.

Ethan’s chest tightened.

His instincts screamed. This wasn’t just power—it was something that reached into the mind, the soul. He took a step back, steadying his breath, gathering his strength.

But his gut told him one thing, loud and clear:

Don’t wait.

Don’t let this thing make the first move.

He launched forward, a streak of light cutting across the battlefield, aiming straight for the masked figure.

He had to break the rhythm before it began.

But the moment he closed in—

BOOM!!

A barrier erupted around the figure, thick and ancient, humming with a psychic pressure that clawed at Ethan’s thoughts. His strike slammed into it and stopped cold.

The figure finally spoke.

His voice echoed from behind the mask—dry, hollow, laced with both mockery and something like pity.

"A worm from a lower plane... I’ll admit, making it this far is impressive."

He raised his staff. The runes along its shaft lit up all at once.

"But to think you could replace the High Lord? Delusional."

Whoosh—!

The staff came down.

And with it, a wave of power exploded outward—like a thousand twisted emotions made solid, crashing into Ethan like a tidal surge.

BOOM—!

BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!!!

Ethan was hurled back, flung hundreds of feet through the air before he caught himself, boots skidding across the stone.

As he steadied, the air around him shimmered.

Magic circles began to bloom—one after another, like doors opening in midair.

And from those doors, Sky Citadel soldiers poured out.

More than he’d seen on any layer before.

Far more.

...