Chapter 393: The Island’s Erasure: Ascension
BOOOOOOOOM!!
The two gigantic attacks, the blindingly golden Sun and the Skull-formed sword, collided in the atmosphere with the force of collapsing stars. The sheer force and magical backlash of their clashing instantly overwhelmed the surroundings, utterly destroying the whole island into nothingness, leaving behind only a boiling crater where land once stood.
The Ghost Guild, along with the exhausted guardians, all flew right into the air, riding the catastrophic shockwaves to avoid the disintegrating earth below, with Nita firmly assisting the bewildered Jessica.
Miles away from the epicenter, Hayatobi and everyone else stood precariously on the violently churning water surface, their energy reserves draining as they desperately held the massive, glowing teleportation circle above the sky to secure an escape route.
"This is crazy!! Are those two crazy?!! They actually destroyed the entire island!!" Keegan screamed in terror, as the geography of the continent was permanently rewritten before his eyes.
Everyone stared at the huge, swirling explosion of gold and crimson in the sky, the air thick with the smell of ozone and vaporized rock, as Mirabella slowly, menacingly walked out from the raging inferno.
"Hahahaha!! I can’t die!!"
The thick smoke cleared, revealing the terrifying aftermath of the blast. It revealed Nadia, but the apocalyptic heat had stripped her entirely of her flesh—she was nothing but a charred, laughing skeleton suspended in the air.
"....?!"
They watched in absolute, visceral shock, as evolution took hold. Flesh started aggressively weaving itself over the bone, followed by thick blood vessels and dense muscular tissues knitting together at unnatural speeds. In seconds, Nadia’s whole body was completely back to human, unblemished and radiating dark vitality.
"I am the Unkillable Goddess!! Before me, everything kneels and die!!! I am the undisputed death!! How dare you, a mere mortal think you can kill me?!!" Nadia roared, her arrogant pride refusing to acknowledge the power of the Sun lineage.
Mirabella, completely ignoring the horrifying display of cellular regeneration, tightened her white-knuckled grip on the hilt of Sunder. The usually calm, calculating Queen—the strategic mind who maneuvered through the politics of the three empires—was gone. In her place was an entity of pure, unrestrained wrath.