Chapter 383 - 372: Divine Punishment Descends from Heaven
Chapter 383: Chapter 372: Divine Punishment Descends from Heaven
The Sky Throne arrived on schedule directly above Glacier Academy, at an altitude of 30,000 meters.
Like a reef blending into the dark backdrop of the firmament, it hung there, silent and undetected.
Meanwhile, on the ice fields of the Frost Wind Plane, Allen came to a stop.
He stood on a flat, wide glacier, approximately one hundred kilometers from Glacier Academy.
[Sky Throne in position. Altitude: 30,000 meters.]
[Target locked. Individual located beneath the withered tree on the west side of the plaza. Magic Power signature matches that of a ’Second-level Wizard of a Witchcraft School.’ Calibrating for deviation.]
"Gabriel, status report." Allen established a mental link with his creation.
[I am in position. Chanting Core activated. ’Angel’s Chant’ can fire a follow-up shot within 1 second of the main cannon firing to ensure the target is completely purified.]
All preparations were complete.
But he didn’t give the order to fire just yet.
Before deciding that Wizard’s fate, one final measure was needed—a grand entrance sufficient to draw all of their attention.
"Cybertron, deploy."
On the ice field a hundred meters behind Allen, space twisted violently, as if an invisible giant hand had torn a rift in the fabric of reality.
A massive, ethereal blue rift opened from the void, revealing a deep and terrifying dimensional shore within.
The next second, a steel city from another dimension descended, rapidly solidifying from illusion into reality upon the ice fields of the Frost Wind Plane!
The Cybertron complex, covering fifteen square kilometers and brilliantly lit, forcibly squeezed into the Material Realm with an overwhelming presence.
Tremendous spatial fluctuations and Magic Power shockwaves spread out madly in all directions like a tsunami, kicking up blizzards of ice and snow.
Immediately after, five standard Golem Legions marched out in formation from the opened steel city.
The footsteps of a thousand Peacekeepers formed a torrent of steel, while the ammo bay covers of their Purgatory launch platforms popped open one by one.
A Freedom Gundam took the lead, ascending at high speed. A squadron of Storm Falcons lifted off from the hangar, forming a low-altitude attack formation. Eight Hive motherships slowly rose, forming an aerial cluster that blotted out the sky.
"All units, advance. Target: Glacier Academy."
The war had begun.
...
One hundred kilometers away, at Glacier Academy.
The Bloodline Wizard Herman, who had been reveling in the thrill of a conqueror, suddenly trailed off mid-sentence.
He whipped his head around to stare at the southern horizon, his rugged face etched with astonishment.
"What was that?!"
Floating in mid-air, "the Whisperer’s" purple pupils suddenly contracted to the size of a pinprick.
"A massive spatial fluctuation... over a hundred kilometers away. It’s like a Half-Plane making contact with the Material Realm?"
"The magnitude of this fluctuation..." The Whisperer’s voice paused. "This is the work of a Second-level Wizard, at least."
Herman’s expression became a mixture of caution and excitement. His arms began to swell, the Ancient Giant bloodline surging beneath his skin as veins bulged like coiling snakes.
Beneath the withered tree, the Curse Wizard Glen, who had been resting with his eyes closed, stopped fiddling with the bone pendant in his hand.
His eyes snapped open, and a vast wave of Spiritual Power spread out like an invisible net, probing towards the south.
In that instant, the attention of all three Second-level Black Wizards was completely captivated by the steel city that had appeared out of thin air to the south.
But the real killing blow was coming from directly above them.
Thirty thousand meters high, the Sky Throne’s main cannon, the "Light of Judgment," had finished its final charge.
Inside the muzzle, the entire output of three second-generation engines converged into a single, blindingly brilliant point of white light.
Within the massive spell-cannon barrel, three layers of overlapping Runes lit up in succession as the Magic Power reading climbed steadily.
3,000...
4,500...
5,800...
Finally jumping to the terrifying number of 6,300!
In the final second, the immense Magic Power fluctuation converging at the muzzle broke through the concealment limit of the Rune Array.
In the plaza below, the Curse Wizard Glen, who had just sent his Spiritual Power probing south, suddenly froze.
His intuition, born from his Causality Witchcraft, screamed a sharp warning in the instant before death descended.
He snapped his head up, staring at the grey, seemingly empty sky.
"A second Magic Source? Up there—"
His voice didn’t even have time to reach his companions’ ears.
At that same moment, Allen’s voice sounded from afar, calm and concise:
"Fire."
A pillar of white light, eight meters in diameter and so pure it was without a single impurity, came crashing down from 30,000 meters high.
There was no sound, no warning.
The pillar of light pierced the thick clouds, tore through the violent troposphere, and penetrated the eternal aurora, violently cleaving the dim world into two—one of day, and one of night.
A Magic Power output exceeding the limits of a Second-level Wizard—pure, overwhelming, like a great spear cast down by a god—precisely struck the tiny figure on the ground.
The beam had already hit by the time Glen perceived the "Magic Source overhead."
Glen Fedor, a Level 2 Wizard of the Witchcraft School, was notorious in the Black Wizard world for his sinister and vicious nature. He specialized in curses and Causality Witchcraft, possessing two Level 2 Core Witchcraft: "Life-Devouring Curse" and "Fate-Stealing."
He had cursed countless mortals and Wizards to death, never imagining that he himself would one day be killed in a sneak attack.
His instincts drove him to activate his final gambit: a retaliatory curse that came at the cost of his own life.
But this curse required a "target"—a living being with a soul, with causality, with a thread of fate. What had attacked him, however, was a soulless cannon.
The curse, one that not even Allen could have dealt with, was regrettably wasted.
And within a fifty-meter radius of the beam’s impact point, all matter—snow, ice, permafrost, rock, the giant withered tree, and even the air itself—was directly disintegrated, vaporized, and annihilated within 0.01 seconds of contact.
Glen, along with all his knowledge of curses, his physical body, and his soul, gradually faded away into nothingness within that white light.
A bottomless, perfectly circular crater appeared on the west side of the plaza.
The crater’s edge was smooth as a mirror, with a vitrified texture, while its bottom was a roiling afterglow of incandescent white energy.
Half a second later.
A second beam, slightly less powerful but wider, followed close behind, crashing with the same condensed aura of destruction precisely into the center of the massive crater.
It was the "Angel’s Chant" from Divine Statue Gabriel.
A follow-up shot.
The two high-energy strikes were layered to ensure one thing: that not even a single shred of the curse-specializing Second-level Wizard’s soul would remain.
He was given no opportunity to cast any curses. It was clean, absolute, as if he had been forcibly "deleted" from the world.
The entire plaza fell into a dead silence that lasted for three long seconds.
It was followed by an eruption of chaos.
The two pillars of light that descended from the sky had completely shattered the terrifying "order" the Black Wizards had just established.
Over a thousand apprentices scattered and fled like a startled flock of birds, screaming. The Black Wizards’ minions were also completely dumbfounded. One of their three leaders had been standing right there a second ago, and the next he was just... gone?
The Bloodline Wizard Herman and "the Whisperer" shot into the air at once, each deploying their strongest defensive measures.
Herman’s body expanded rapidly with a roar, his muscles knotting as he transformed into an Ancient Giant. "The Whisperer" released layer upon layer of Spiritual Power barriers, wrapping itself in an impenetrable deep purple light.
The two hovered back-to-back in mid-air, their faces filled with horror and disbelief.
They looked up.
And finally, they saw it.
Thirty thousand meters above, the energy overflow from the main cannon’s firing had caused the Illusion Runes to fail completely.
The massive black silhouette of the Sky Throne slowly emerged from above the clouds, like a Sword of Damocles hanging over everyone’s heads.
And at the edge of that aerial platform—
two figures leaped off.
One large, one small.
One white, one red.
Two distinctly different "meteors" began to fall from the edge of the heavens, trailing wakes that tore across the sky.
The white one suddenly unfurled eight wings, scattering golden motes of light through the air, holy and elegant, like an Angel descending to deliver Judgement.
The dark red one was enormous enough to block out half the sky. The single eye on its face burned with incandescent flames. With its limbs tucked in, it plummeted in a posture of pure, brute force, like a meteorite about to strike the earth!