blogombal Page 602
Page 602
boom--! ! ! !
boom--! ! ! !
Two colossal figures, tearing through time and space, clashed repeatedly on that scarlet scorched earth that seemed to be soaked in the blood of the gods, like two destructive comets!
The heavens are ruled by endless tyranny!
On one side, billions of roaring, howling bolts of chaotic lightning lashed down like whips of law tearing the sky apart!
They are not natural lightning bolts, but manifestations of authority; each explosion is accompanied by the lamentation of space and fragments of rules!
On the other side, there was an endless karmic fire that burned away all cause and effect, like an endless stream pouring out from the abyss of purgatory!
Crimson, dark purple, and pale white flames twisted and tangled, radiating terrifying heat that scorched the very essence of the soul, greedily licking at everything in their path!
Thunder and blazing fire!
Two powers symbolizing ultimate destruction, on this crimson battlefield, are like two ancient, world-destroying dragons, engaging in an endless, primal, and violent mutual annihilation!
Each collision unleashes an energy storm powerful enough to evaporate mountains.
Each bite leaves behind a spatial crack that takes a long time to heal!
The air was no longer filled with ordinary air currents.
Disorder! Chaos!
The magic, so vast that it transcends mortal comprehension, is like the core of a star thrown into a furnace, boiling and evaporating completely under the crushing and clashing of power!
They transformed into visible, distorting magical torrents of light, rendering the entire battlefield a bizarre and chaotic apocalyptic scene where the laws of nature had collapsed!
With each breath, he inhaled violent magical dust, enough to instantly annihilate an ordinary magician!
This goes far beyond the realm of skills and strategies.
This is the ultimate, purest form of violence, trampling all principles of the universe underfoot!
It is a savage outpouring of the most primal power, powerful enough to crush stars and shake the river of time!
It is a relentless struggle between "powerful beings" who wield the deepest authority in the world and stand at the pinnacle of their respective existences, a conflict that can only be ended by the complete annihilation of one side.
The ultimate showdown!
Hartres, at this moment, stood silently on the edge of the battlefield like a shadow stripped of time.
It's not cowardice, but simply a lack of ability to intervene.
But his posture was like that of a calm scholar standing outside the cosmic rift, examining through an invisible lens a violent reaction taking place in a petri dish that was enough to overturn common sense.
His gaze pierced through the swirling, turbulent magical currents, through the flashes of light from laws tearing through space, locking precisely and emotionlessly onto the heart of the battlefield—
There, an ultimate drama, beyond the reach of ordinary imagination, is unfolding:
Magicians are explorers who, with mortal bodies, exhaust the wisdom and power of the fundamental principles. Their power is like a delicate carving knife, attempting to sculpt the underlying logic of the world.
Gods—the supreme beings who hold the power over the origin of the world and are born from the laws of antiquity, whose power is like a surging galaxy, and who are themselves the embodiment of "reason".
On one hand, it is a paradoxical dance of the insignificant challenging the grand.
On the other hand, there is the eternal song of absolute crushing of the opposite.
Every collision between the two is not a simple outpouring of energy, but a mutual negation and reconstruction at the most primitive and violent level of two completely different systems of laws concerning the essence of "existence" and "power"!
Hartres's deep eyes reflected the storm of power that could shatter the soul of any bystander. He did not move an inch, not even the hem of his clothes was stirred by the raging energy turbulence.
Only deep within those slightly flickering pupils, countless cold formulas seemed to be rapidly deducing and analyzing the scene before them...
The wisdom and imagination of mortals cannot even scratch the surface of it.
The ultimate battle between magicians and gods.
"What...awe-inspiring power."
Hartres's voice was deep, like the cold wind passing through a thousand-year-old glacier, carrying an almost pure, researcher-like amazement.
This exclamation was not one of fear, but rather a cold, objective acknowledgment of the immense power that transcends the boundaries of cognition.
He slowly, with very slight movements, shook his head.
This subtle action is not a denial of the scene before us, but rather a calibration of some kind of sophisticated observation instrument, attempting to extract a clearer logical thread from that devastating chaos.
It was merely the outermost aftershock of the laws emanating from each clash between the two entities at the core of the battlefield—
The violent wind pressure, powerful enough to pulverize mountains and evaporate rivers instantly, far exceeded the limits that his mortal body could withstand!
At this moment, the reason he can still barely "stand" on the edge of this collapsing law zone is like a lone paper boat adrift in a storm...
His only reliance was the ultimate protective magic that enveloped him, which flickered and flowed like an ancient star map, originating from a distant divine era!
This barrier, emitting a faint, unbearable groan, stubbornly shields him from the absolute violence that could annihilate his soul.
Hartres's deep, abyss-like eyes pierced through the raging energy storm, seemingly traversing endless time and space, and were projected onto a predetermined coordinate.
A cold, inquisitive question, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, spread silently through his meticulously crafted mind:
"The Clock Tower... those guys who occupy the pinnacle of power..."
His voice was almost a murmur, yet it carried a sharpness that could freeze the air.
"What...are they plotting? Or what are they afraid of?"
"That crucial 'window of opportunity' was clearly more than enough for them to accomplish that great task..."
"Why... until now..."
"The 'starting' bell has still not rung?!"
At this very moment, at the very core of the storm vortex, in the absolute purgatory where even space itself was distorted and wailing due to the collision of powers—
"Gulu..."
A faint yet incredibly clear swallowing sound pierced the barrier of a raging storm amidst the deafening roar of energy.
Matouchi's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.
He forced down a thick, sticky bloody foam mixed with fragments of internal organs and scorching magic. The taste of rust and sulfur instantly burned his esophagus, leaving a burning pain.
"Ha...is this...a god in his 'complete' form?"
His voice was hoarse, with a kind of self-mocking panting, yet it contained an indomitable will as strong as steel.
"This is really... incredibly annoying and difficult to deal with!"
The enemy before him was undoubtedly the most troublesome and hopeless barrier he had ever encountered in his long fighting career!
Indeed, he once faced Beelzebub, a demon king of a higher status who symbolized "original sin"!
But that time...
It is a strategic mobilization that has exhausted all wisdom, laid out countless backup plans, and constructed a sophisticated trap in multiple dimensions!
It was a complete "clever" victory that borrowed the rules, exploited weaknesses, and even shook the very foundation of its existence!
But at this moment!
There were no detours, no calculations, and no loopholes to exploit!
Only the most primitive, the most savage, the one that utterly crushes all skill and cunning—
Violence! Violence!
Power! Unstoppable power!
Like two stars burning to their limit, they are engaged in an endless, destructive head-on collision with the purest kinetic energy and mass!
The gale is being torn apart by an invisible giant hand!
That was not the natural howl of the wind, but the mournful wail of space itself as it was crushed by a force beyond its limits! The violent air currents were no longer flowing air; they were crushed and twisted, turning into billions of invisible needles of pain, emitting piercing cries in every inch of the ravaged area!
As far as the eye can see—
The atmosphere, which should have been formless and intangible, now revealed terrifying, solidified cracks!
It was as if a colossal crystal dome, covering the entire world, was covered with countless, crisscrossing spiderweb-like cracks under unimaginable absolute pressure!
Matou Ike's eyes, burning with fighting spirit, were like a hawk locking onto its prey, fixed firmly on what lay ahead—
Nailed to that "thing" enveloped in a pure light that was incomprehensible and unbearable to behold!
That was not light in the physical sense, but the manifestation of the law, the radiance emanating from the authority itself!
It was merely an attempt to "capture" the core of that light with one's gaze...
A violent dizziness and disorientation originating from the deepest part of his soul struck his mental barrier like an invisible hammer!
My vision instantly distorted and shattered, as if I had fallen into a kaleidoscope-like abyss of consciousness!
The "reason" contained in that light has a density and level of information that has long surpassed the limits of what the human brain can process. Forcing an interpretation will only lead to the collapse of cognition!
This is not an attack, but merely the unconscious morphological radiation emanating from its very existence!
.........
"I know, I know!"
Meastia's voice came through a complex long-distance communication technique, carrying an almost tangible, forcibly suppressed restlessness.
At this moment, he was like a magic node on the verge of overload, struggling to maintain the chain of azure runes flowing from his fingertips and constructing communication circuits, while venting his dissatisfaction to the invisible "client" on the other side of the void.
"I'm already using mind acceleration magic to burn through my brain cells! The progress bar is practically sparking! You guys really have no idea how complicated this damn ritual is, do you?!"
His complaints came like a machine gun, each syllable carrying the resentment unique to the contractor when pressured to complete work.
Suddenly, as if he had caught a crucial piece of information from the other end of the communication, his agitated voice abruptly rose, carrying a hint of incredulous, sharp sarcasm:
"Huh?! Wait! What did you just say?! This ultimate Frankenstein's monster ritual, which can make people lose all their hair just by understanding its basic principles... was designed by your race?!"
A more urgent, pressure-laden wave seemed to be coming from the other end of the communication channel.
Meastia took a deep breath, the chilling air that seemed to freeze the soul forcefully suppressing the impending eruption of the volcano.
He pinched his throbbing temples, the rune chain on his fingertips flickering with his emotions.
"...Okay, I understand."
His voice regained its surface calm, but beneath that calm lay a surging undercurrent.
"Aside from that damned, elusive 'node' in the Avalon realm, which we still haven't located—"