Chapter 1232: The Fog Will Not Die
Ethan looked down toward the underground chamber, equal parts annoyed and unimpressed.
Of all the things Orun could be thinking about... it had to be recruiting him?
Yeah. Dream on.
The energy sphere in Ethan’s hand had been ready for a while. He compressed the gray-white glow until it was razor-dense, then sent it drilling into the earth through a surface crack—slipping through dirt, rock layers, and groundwater—before invading Orun again.
This time, Orun finally noticed something was off.
It felt like a thin needle had been added inside its body, sliding along the flow of its earth power.
But it didn’t take it seriously.
My body has more than one form, it scoffed to itself. You think you can mess with me using something like that? Keep dreaming.
On the battlefield, Feylora stood in the middle of the group, continuously restoring everyone’s energy.
Deep green power streamed from her hands and condensed into a huge healing orb. The orb hovered overhead, then split into gentle green beams that drifted to each ally. The scorch marks on Seraphina’s wings smoothed out under the touch. The holy radiance on Andona steadied. Even the power Ataneya had burned through began to trickle back, little by little.
The goat army started to fall back.
But the mountains and rivers still hadn’t stopped.
The surrounding peaks kept shifting inward—slow, but crushingly heavy. The rivers, tugged by Orun’s influence, continued to surge out from between the ranges like chains, cinching tighter and tighter around Ethan’s group.
Namyanna rose into the air with her trident in hand.
Ocean power spread from beneath her feet, forcing itself into every moving mountain. At first, only a damp, icy sheen appeared across the surface. Then cold leaked from deep inside the rock, spreading outward through the layers.
In a blink, each mountain froze from the inside out.
The moving peaks were forcibly halted, locked in place as ice mountains. The temperature dropped hard. White frost fog spilled across the air, and even the lingering magma heat was pushed back.
Seraphina went titanic again, flying up in front of each ice mountain.
She didn’t hold back. A massive dragon claw slammed down.
The ice mountains were punched through. Thick ice layers burst apart from the center, and countless shards rained down toward the group like a hailstorm.
Andona lifted her blade.
A golden barrier rose to meet the falling ice. Shards hammered against it in a rapid, metallic drumming—then shattered into pale powder under the holy force and vanished midair.
Ataneya extended five tails.
Wherever they swept, flame ignited inside the ice itself. Each chunk struck by her tails looked like it had been lit from within by hellfire—red cracks crawling over the surface before it softened and melted, turning into rain that fell back to the ground.
Namyanna started to lift her trident, clearly intending to freeze the rain into ice pellets again—
Ataneya shot her a look sharp enough to stop her cold.
The rain fell.
For a brief moment, the sky cleared. Between the trees, a rainbow even appeared. Everyone got caught in that tiny pocket of beauty, shoulders loosening, breath easing—
And then a shell shattered the peace.
It fired from one of the distant goat platforms and exploded in midair.
What burst out wasn’t gunpowder.
It was seeds.
They scattered across the ground and immediately burrowed into the soil. Then a second missile screamed in. Seraphina timed it perfectly—one claw snap forward, and she smashed it apart mid-flight.
This one didn’t carry seeds.
It carried a slurry of pitch-black water.
The black water splashed down and soaked into the earth—watering the seeds from before.
The next instant, those tiny seeds began to grow like they’d gone insane. Roots ripped through the ground. Trunks shot upward. In seconds, towering trees stabbed into the sky.
But there was nothing normal about them.
The fruit hanging from their branches reeked—sweet and rotten, the kind of smell that made your stomach turn. Their skins were swollen and black, and viscous dark liquid crawled across the surface. The forest’s clean aura turned foul. Grass blades dulled. Even the soil took on a sickly, decayed tint.
Feylora hated contamination more than anything.
She raised a hand and condensed a green energy sphere, firing it straight at one of the fruits.
Bang!
Her attack didn’t even make contact.
Fueled by the black water, the fruit detonated early. Thick black miasma blasted out and spread in all directions, rapidly polluting the freshly restored green land.
Thankfully, the ring of mountains at the perimeter still boxed the area in.
The black stench didn’t spill beyond the arena.
This "colosseum" was only just getting started.
The black miasma condensed into a darkness so thick you couldn’t see your own hand. It rolled over the ground like living smoke—devouring light, devouring breath, devouring the little blades of grass that had only just returned. It had no clear shape, yet it crept toward them with the stubborn intention of something alive.
Andona gripped her blades and beat her wings, trying to blow it away.
Golden currents surged from between her wings and plunged into the black fog. It tore open a gap—
And the fog, shameless as a thug, simply retreated.
The moment the golden gust weakened, it regenerated from the fruits at the edges and surged back in again, pressing forward for another chokehold.
Seraphina launched straight up, trying to carry everyone into the sky and escape that creeping black tide.
Her wings hammered the air as she climbed with the group on her back. But the higher she flew, the stranger space became. The sky felt endless—no matter how high she rose, she couldn’t break free of the fog’s coverage.
In the end, she had to flap back down and land, shifting back into human form as she hurried to Ethan to report.
"No end...? How is that possible? That’s way too weird."
Andona was still hovering overhead.
Filthy black corruption was exactly what angels hated most. She tightened her grip on her blades, golden wings fully spread, and her voice rang across the arena—high and sharp with conviction.
"Light! Judge them—these filthy things!"
A violent column of holy radiance slammed down from the heavens.
The golden beam crashed into the black fog with overwhelming force. Huge swaths of it dispersed on the spot. On the ground, polluted earth hissed as the holy light burned it clean, white smoke rising in rings.
But the fog, driven back, quickly seeped up from underground again—reforming from every direction and pooling together.
In other words: it wouldn’t clean out. It wouldn’t die.
Andona landed, frustrated, folding her wings.
Before dropping fully, she reinforced the shield again—golden patterns crawling across its surface, stacking into multiple interlaced layers. Only then did she come to Ethan’s side, ready to talk strategy.
Inside the silent black fog, there wasn’t a trace of life.
Only within their barrier did a small pocket remain—unpolluted animals and a patch of grass preserved like a fragile memory. Feylora stared outside anxiously as the black fog pressed against the shield from all sides. It crept closer, touched the golden patterns, and sizzled—forced to recoil.
Then another missile came.
It slammed into the barrier and rippled it in concentric waves. Everyone inside looked up, eyes cutting through the golden glow and into the blackness beyond.
A moment later, a voice rolled out of the fog.
"That boy who can use my power—I can tell you’re a fine seedling, so I didn’t have them deliberately target you. If you come with me, I’ll spare the others. So what’ll it be? You coming with me... or staying here to die?"
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