Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory

Chapter 1201: Blue Gems Wake

Deep in the heart of Mournvale Abyss.

A gloomy hall hung suspended over the chasm. There were no torches outside—only layers upon layers of roiling dark energy rising from below, creeping along the stone pillars and across the domed ceiling in slow currents. The entire palace felt like it was lodged in the abyss’s throat. Every surge of energy made the ancient patterns etched into the walls thrum with a low, heavy vibration.

A tall man stood before the throne.

Overbearing power rolled off him in waves. A blue gemstone set into his forehead flickered with an icy glow, and every time that light dimmed, the air in the hall seemed to gain weight. The people kneeling below instinctively pressed their heads even lower.

He stared down at them, expression cold.

"What is the meaning of this?"

His voice detonated through the hall, shaking dust loose from the pillars in a fine, gritty rain.

"Two of my generals went out on a simple reconnaissance mission, and neither of them has returned."

He stepped forward.

The blue gem flared—and an invisible pressure burst outward from him. The ones kneeling closest were crushed flat on the spot, their chests pinned to the floor, unable to even lift their faces.

"So tell me—who here has an explanation?"

Every person present widened their eyes, but not a single one dared speak.

They lay prostrate, trembling, their breathing reduced to the bare minimum. Those two missing commanders were too high-ranking, too powerful. If they hadn’t returned, something massive had happened outside. But no one knew what. And nobody was suicidal enough to voice a guess right now.

The man hovering over the throne area narrowed his eyes.

Violent energy kept rippling out of him like invisible iron bands, clamping down on everyone’s backs. The longer the silence stretched, the colder his gaze became.

"I’m not here to waste words with you."

He lifted a hand and pointed toward the hall’s entrance.

"Get out there. Find them. Now."

The instant his voice fell, even the floor shuddered.

"If you can’t bring them back... then come back carrying your own heads."

Terror hit the kneeling crowd like a wave. They immediately kowtowed and scrambled backward, retreating at top speed. Footsteps faded beyond the hall’s threshold, and before long, the vast chamber was empty again.

The man sat back down on the throne.

The pressure he had used to suffocate everyone eased slightly—but his breathing turned rough, almost hurried. His aura, too, slipped into a subtle disorder that no one was around to notice. Especially the blue gemstone on his forehead: it flickered bright, then dim, then bright again, pulsing with a strange, unsettling presence.

It didn’t feel like stable power.

It felt like something sealed inside him—something that could bite back at any moment.

Not long after, a voluptuous, striking woman walked in from the side of the hall.

Her steps were light, but every time her foot came down, the space around her tightened with crushing pressure. Dark energy parted to either side. Even the stone statues and the carved wall patterns seemed to warp slightly under the force spilling off her body.

When the man saw her, the harshness on his face immediately reined itself in.

He rose and went to meet her, his tone turning respectful.

"Sister... weren’t you in seclusion?" he asked, the deference in his voice sudden and obvious. "Why did you come out?"

The woman didn’t answer.

She gave a cold snort and lifted one hand, tapping lightly at the air.

A glowing projected screen unfolded in front of them.

Within the light, the battlefield’s lingering traces appeared piece by piece—shattered space, residual Infernal Abyss rune energy, the marks of a soul that had been frozen by extreme cold and then blown apart, and even a strand of chaotic aura that clearly belonged to an outside force. Everything flickered and swam across the projection, pulsing like a wound that hadn’t finished bleeding.

The woman watched it, her voice like ice.

"And you didn’t even stop to check whether a strong enemy had arrived in this world before sending people out to ’search.’"

She turned her head, looking at the man.

"Those two who went out earlier? They were probably killed a long time ago."

The man’s pupils contracted.

He clearly hadn’t expected that anything in this world could kill Mournvale Abyss generals. Even harder to accept—the power on that screen didn’t seem to belong to any Castle in this realm.

"Of course." He ground his teeth, anger reigniting in his eyes. "Another batch of outsiders."

He lifted his chin, forcing confidence into his posture.

"Sister, you don’t need to worry."

He stepped forward, and his power spiked sharply.

"Give me one day, and I’ll wipe them all out."

The moment the words left his mouth, his energy erupted and slammed into a nearby wall of statues. The silent figures standing there shattered one after another—stone exploding outward—until, from within the debris, silhouettes stepped forward.

The energy coming off them was wrong. Wrong enough to make the hall feel colder.

They didn’t look like living people. Their bodies were half-transparent, their outlines swaying faintly in the darkness as they hovered like ghosts. In each of their chests sat a blue gemstone. And inside each gem, sealed deep within, was the image of something like a baby—curled up small, rising and falling in slow rhythm with the fluctuations of outside power.

The man looked over them, his voice controlled—cruel in the way only someone who believed he owned you could be.

"You are my most trusted existence."

The ghostlike figures bowed their heads in unison.

"Now." His gaze sharpened. "Go out there and kill those outsiders."

He paused. The blue gem on his forehead flared again.

"When you return in victory... I will grant you freedom."

That single sentence lit them up.

The blue gemstones in their chests flashed together, and the baby-like images inside them cracked their eyes open, just a sliver. In the next instant, every one of them surged—power multiplying severalfold—until the space around them rippled, squeezed and distorted by their presence.

A spatial passage opened in front of them.

They didn’t hesitate.

They dove straight into it.

At the same time, the Emerald Castle army had already reached the outskirts of Mournvale Abyss.

The sky here hung lower than anywhere else. Deep inside the clouds, black mist churned in thick folds, and the ground was split with jagged, gaping trenches. The closer they drew to Mournvale Abyss, the denser the Infernal Abyss presence became—so heavy that even ordinary soldiers found their breathing turning rough and labored.

Ethan walked at the head of the host, his eyes locked on the bottomless darkness ahead.

They were just about to push forward when the space not far away suddenly tore open.

Figures poured out of the rift—dozens, then hundreds.

They floated in midair, half-transparent bodies swaying faintly. The blue gemstones embedded in their chests glowed with an eerie light. Inside those gems, the baby-like silhouettes trembled slightly, leaking a chill that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Ethan’s pupils snapped tight. He immediately took a step back.

Power erupted inside him at the same time—transparent lightning, Infernal Primordial Power, and the aura of the energy sphere in his chest spreading outward in a wave that made the nearby space shudder violently.

He was about to strike first—

When a figure on the other side drifted slowly forward, stopping right in front of him.

That ghostly silhouette raised a finger and lightly tapped the air.

Blue light condensed into a thin beam and shot straight for Ethan’s forehead.

"So you’re the outsiders?"

The voice was hollow, wrong—like it was echoing from inside the gemstone in its chest instead of a throat.

"You’ve got nerve, messing with us."

The blue glow at its fingertip swelled suddenly.

"Die."

The battle exploded in the very next second.

The Emerald Castle front line snapped into defense immediately. The Fallen Star Guard surged up into the sky. Powered Combat Armor fighters braced and absorbed the first crushing impact. From behind, the Sky Fortress roared—cannon fire lancing forward in heavy bursts.

The ghost army slammed in at the same time. The blue gemstones in their chests fired off one eerie beam after another, and each shot left a cold afterimage hanging in the air as it cut through.

The fighting in the sky turned savage—fast.

Bodies kept falling.

Broken armor plates, shredded ghost-remains, shattered gemstones, and blood all mixed together, raining down from above and splattering along the abyss’s edge. Endless power flooded the heavens, shockwaves of energy hammering the world itself over and over.

More and more spatial cracks split open.

The entire world was being shoved to the brink of collapse.

Ethan’s brow knotted.

He hovered at the center of the battlefield, power pouring off him nonstop as he condensed sphere after sphere of energy across the surrounding sky. Every one of them was compressed from transparent lightning, Infernal Primordial Power, and the core energy in his chest—each orb’s surface snapping with violent arcs.

At the same time, countless phantoms began forming behind him.

A giant dragon. A phoenix. Writhing thunder. A blood-red blaze. Sacred, radiant outlines—layer upon layer of different power-shapes stacking over his back until the sky around him seemed to sink under the pressure.

Judging by the way he was building it—

He was getting ready to unleash everything he had.