CHAPTER 225: BROKEN IDOLS

Chapter 221: Broken Idols

The sky over the Grand Hotel was no longer a ceiling; it was a maelstrom.

Clouds of pulverized concrete and green ghost-fire choked the air.

The once-magnificent terrace was a crater, a gaping wound in the architecture of the floating city.

At the center of the devastation stood Alastor Greythorn.

The Sword Saint was a figure of brutal elegance. His white coat was shredded, revealing skin etched with scars that seemed to pulse with silver light.

His greatsword, a slab of runic steel that weighed more than a man, was a blur in his hands.

Opposite him, the Abyssal Juggernaut roared—a sound that rattled teeth and shattered the remaining windows of the hotel. The demon was a titan of bone and hate, its twenty-foot frame wreathed in necrotic flame.

It swung its massive flail. The spiked iron ball, the size of a carriage, whistled through the air, trailing green fire.

Alastor didn’t dodge. He stepped into the swing.

"Too slow!" he bellowed.

With a roar of exertion, he swung his greatsword upward.

CLANG-CRACK!

Steel met demonic iron. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the district, flattening lampposts and parked mana-cars. The Juggernaut’s flail was knocked back, the chain rattling violently.

Alastor didn’t pause. He leaped, propelling himself off the cratered floor with a burst of silver aura. He spun mid-air, bringing his blade down in a vertical cleave.

[Skill: Sky Splitter!]

The blade bit into the Juggernaut’s bone shoulder-guard. Shards of grey bone exploded outward. The demon howled in pain, stumbling back, green blood spraying onto the pristine white pavement..

"Is that it?" Alastor laughed, landing heavily, his boots cracking the stone. He wiped a smear of soot from his face, his grin savage.

.

"Is that all the Void has to offer? A big, dumb skeleton with a toy?"

The Juggernaut snarled.

The green fire in its ribcage flared brighter, intensifying. It raised a hand, and the shadows around it coalesced into spears of solid darkness.

It hurled them. A volley of death.

Alastor spun his sword, creating a shield of spinning steel. The shadow spears shattered against it, dissipating into harmless smoke.

But behind the bravado, Alastor was sweating. His breath came in ragged gasps.

’This thing... it’s dense,’ he thought, his grip tightening. ’It’s not just strong. It’s regenerating. Every time I cut it, the bone knits back together. And the ambient mana... it’s corrupted. I can’t draw power from the air.’

He glanced up at the crimson barrier sealing the sky.

’We’re in a cage. And the air is running out.’

______________

[Sky Island – Underground Shelter Beta]

The shelter was a cavernous, reinforced bunker beneath the Luxury District. The air was stale, recycled, and filled with the terrified murmurs of civilians and students.

Evelyn Whitehound stood by the heavy blast doors, her face pale but composed. She held a communication crystal, but it was dead—jammed by the barrier.

"Status?" she asked a junior instructor who was frantically checking the mana sensors.

"Bad, ma’am," the instructor whispered, his hands shaking. "The barrier is stable. No way out. And the mana density outside... it’s toxic. Void radiation is seeping into the lower levels."

Evelyn looked at the students gathered in the center of the room.

It was a grim assembly.

The Top 10 Teams—Leon, Chris, Maria, Aurelia, Selena, Elara, Aiden, Alex, the Twins, and Eric—were huddled together, their uniforms torn and dirty.

They looked less like the elite of the Academy and more like children waking up from a nightmare.

Leon sat on a crate, his head in his hands. His golden armor was dented. His Holy Flame was extinguished. He looked broken.

"I couldn’t stop it," Leon whispered, his voice hollow. "I charged... and it swatted me like a fly. Alastor had to save me."

"You tried," Chris said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That thing is SS-Rank, Leon. We’re students."

"We’re supposed to be heroes!" Leon snapped, looking up. His eyes were red-rimmed. "What kind of hero needs saving?"

"A living one," Aurelia said calmly, adjusting her glasses. She was sitting on a supply box, reviewing a map of the island. "Survival is the prerequisite for heroism. Dead heroes don’t save anyone."

Aiden was pacing, his lightning crackling faintly. "This sucks. We’re sitting here while the Sword Saint fights a kaiju upstairs. We should be helping!"

"Helping how?" Lyra asked bitterly, nursing a bruised arm. "Throwing fireballs at it? It eats magic, Aiden. We saw it."

"We can’t just hide!" Aiden roared, kicking a metal bench. It clattered loudly, drawing fearful looks from the civilians.

"Quiet," Maria Frostheart said. Her voice was ice-cold, cutting through the noise. She stood apart from the group, her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the blast doors. "Panic helps no one."

"Where is Michael?" Alex asked suddenly, his voice small but clear.

The question silenced the group.

They looked around. The faces of the "Team Anomaly" members—Seraphina, Gideon, the Twins—were grim. But their leader was missing.

"He wasn’t at the hotel," Seraphina said quietly. "He went to the Honour Hall."

"The Honour Hall?" Elara gasped. "That’s... that’s Ground Zero. The barrier opened right above it."

"He’s in the middle of it," Selena whispered, her hand covering her mouth.

Maria’s expression tightened. "He’s alone."

"He’s Michael," Gideon said, a strange, unsettling smile on his face. "If anyone is surviving out there, it’s him. He probably planned this."

"Planned a demon invasion?" Eric William scoffed from the corner. He was leaning against the wall, looking bored, though his eyes were sharp and alert.

"Don’t be absurd. He’s likely dead. Crushed by the first wave."

"He’s not dead," Alex said fiercely, standing up. "I know he’s not."

Evelyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Michael Wilson is resourceful. But SS-Rank demons... even he has limits."

She straightened her uniform. "I am going to find him. And I need to link up with Lord Cessias. If we can reboot the grid, the Mana Knights might come back online."

"I’m coming with you," Maria said instantly, stepping forward. Her staff materialized in her hand, frost forming on the floor.

"No," Leon said, standing up. His voice was shaky, but firm. "I’ll go."

Everyone looked at him.

"I failed against the Juggernaut," Leon said, his fists clenching. "I froze. I need... I need to do something. If Michael is out there, I owe him. He helped me in the Tower."

"We all owe him," Alex said, grabbing his shield. "I’m coming."

"Me too," Elara said softly, her bow appearing. "I cannot let a friend face the dark alone."

"Count me in," Selena added, her light and shadow aura flaring.

"If you guys are going to die, I want a front-row seat," Aiden grinned, drawing his swords.

"Idiots," Aurelia sighed, standing up. "You’ll need a brain. I’m coming."

"And someone to burn things," Lyra added, spinning her staff.

Chris groaned, picking up his shield. "Fine. Fine. We all go."

They looked at Evelyn.

The instructor stared at them. A ragged, beaten, terrified group of first-years who had just decided to walk back into hell.

She smiled. A small, genuine smile.

"You are all failing Safety Protocol 101," she said. "But you pass Bravery. Fine. But stay behind me. And if I say run, you run."

She turned to the door.

"Wait," Eric said.

He pushed off the wall. He didn’t draw his sword. He just adjusted his collar.

"I’m going too," Eric stated.

"To save Michael?" Aiden asked, surprised.

"To watch," Eric corrected coldly. "I want to see how the ’Monarch’ dies. Or how he cheats death again. Besides..."

He glanced at the trembling civilians in the corner.

"This shelter smells of fear. I prefer the fresh air."

He grabbed his lackey, Ron, by the collar. "Come, Ron. Try not to faint."

"Y-Yes, young master!" Ron squeaked.

Evelyn punched the code into the door panel.

HISS-CLANK.

The blast doors opened.

The roar of the battle outside washed over them instantly.

"Let’s go," Leon said, stepping out first.

[Sky Island – The Central Spire Plaza]

While the students moved out, a different battle was raging at the heart of the city.

City Lord Cessias hovered in the air, surrounded by a sphere of blinding white light.

He held the Staff of the World Tree, a relic that pulsed with the heartbeat of the planet.

Below him, the plaza was a ruin. The beautiful gardens were scorched black. The fountains boiled.

And floating opposite him was the Void Walker.

The demon had no face, only a swirling vortex of darkness within a hooded cloak. It didn’t attack with weapons. It attacked with reality.

It raised a hand.

Gravity inverted.

Huge chunks of marble pavement ripped from the ground, shooting upward like missiles.

Cessias didn’t flinch. He waved his staff.

[Skill: Starlight Anchor]

Golden chains of light erupted from the ground, wrapping around the debris, slamming it back down.

"YOU CANNOT HOLD THE SKY FOREVER, ELF," the Void Walker spoke. Its voice wasn’t sound; it was a vibration in the atoms of the air.

"THE BARRIER IS SEALED. YOUR MANA IS FINITE."

"Long enough to kill you," Cessias replied calmly.

He pointed the staff. A beam of pure, concentrated starlight shot out.

[Spell: Solar Lance]

The beam struck the Void Walker.

The demon didn’t dodge. It simply... absorbed it. The light vanished into the vortex of its face.

"DELICIOUS," the demon mocked.

Cessias narrowed his eyes. ’It eats energy. Physical attacks are useless. Magic is food. How do I kill a hole in the world?’

He looked down at the city. He saw the fires spreading. He saw Alastor fighting the Juggernaut in the distance.

He saw the Siren destroying the commercial district.

And he saw... something else.

A small shadow, moving fast through the alleyways near the Honour Hall.

A student?

No. The movement was too precise. Too fast.

The figure vanished into a sewer grate.

Cessias frowned.

Who was running toward the danger?

(To be continued)