Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Chapter 1156 Fallen Kings



Chapter 1156 Fallen Kings

I turned away, taking in all that lay before me, all the destruction and death. Lily was missing, as was everyone else. No way Lilith would just cast me away. Not in a situation like that. Damaris was forced to feed me her blood. I was in a critical state. My life was on the line. That leaves only one person with the balls to toss me into a random area.

"Mephisto." I spat his accursed name, running my fingers through my ashen hair, unable to mask the bitterness in my gaze. I returned to the surface of Ilutath, watching as the mercenary group of twenty or so began to set out.

Something was off. Just how much time passed?

"On the move, boys!" Carlton roared, spitting phlegm from his mouth. He barked out a few orders as the men cheered with gloomy eyes.

Without even needing to peer into their hearts, I could feel the grim acceptance of death around their spirits. They were ready.

Twirling my finger through my hair as I pondered my next move, a pulse from my divine sense expanded into the world, spreading hundreds of kilometers; I frowned, catching sight of several cultivators.

Armed with weapons and armor from the Heavens, I figured them to be the templars. The acolyte of the Angels. One Elder God and several Mid-Gods.

Fidgeting with my hair, I held my ground, awaiting their arrival. I had no reason to pass up a good meal. It's been a while, and that elder god… he seems…

"He's here, m'lord!" A mid-age mid-god shouted, pointing his glaive towards me. "He's the one who opened the Holocube."

"I can see that, Vance." The Elder God said calmly, his age near Carlton's, with similar scars to match.

Why was everyone so old? Gods are immortal. Most I saw were usually young, despite living longer than stars. Yet everyone I've seen since I woke tended to be from an older generation.

"You smell different. From the Rest." I pointed out calmly, "Your aura feels human, but it's pure. Too pure to be human, but not enough to be Seraphic."

The Elder God nearing abyssal Walker rose his aged brow, his brown skin wrinkled, but not so much I didn't notice the rich divinity within his pores blessed with a powerful lifeforce.

"What your mouth, boy! And be honored to die by a Highborn." The one called Vance spat, his glaive glowing a rich aura of slaughter. "Fall to your knees and present your head in decree of Heavenly Law."

"Highborn? Any relation to High Humans?" I asked, intrigued. I'd always wanted to have a taste. Although, I was hoping for a young one. Old meat is always sloppy; Probably why I never liked old people.

"Boy…"

Slaughter billowed from my pores, withering life as I stared dead into the eyes of Vance, ready to terminate his existence in but a single thought. It would be so simple.

"Insult me again, and I'll sear your soul in the Hells for all eternity," I warned, letting the Path of Abyssal Night attune itself to my nature. To my mind, body, and soul.

Dread whispered through the silence as the Templars all shuttered, many falling faint as my aura crashed over their weak bodies. Black veins sprouted from their eyes and flesh as their breath grew labored. Sweat dripped from their helms.

"Who are you." The Elder God calmly asked, lifting his palm. Golden nodes of light, scintillated likes stars, formed into a golden sword and Shield, bearing the insignia of a fiery halo crowned by two wings.

"So it's death you chose," I said calmly, sensing a great power within this man. It was threatening but not enough to make me weary. "Such a shame… but it doesn't matter. I'll get the information after you're dead."

Fear crawled up the elder lord's spine as he shot me a measuring stare, his brow already wet with dread.

It doesn't matter your race, not when facing someone like me. Having already acclimated, the five souls form a higher Heaven entirely. My knowledge of Heaven and Earth, of the Myriad Heavens, has reached such a level that I fear very few are alive to challenge me.

Dashing towards me like a beam of prismatic light, The elderly lord pierced his blade at me, shattering the sound barrier; his speed slipped past multiple layers of light. But without much effort, I raised my palm.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

Webs of cracks splinted space as his blade landed before my palm, creating massive earthquakes around me, but without much effort. I sealed all the force he threatened me with. Suddenly, the golden blaze surrounding his sword faded as a dark mist rose.

"This Fighting Techque is pretty broken. But some improvement is needed. Let's push it to another level, that even Zariel will have to keep his distance."

A shutter ran from his blade into my palm, but before the elderly man could move, I reacted. Moving with the darkness, I ignored the concept of space and time and pressed my palm over his head.

Thick globs of brain matter splattered over the withered grass, painting the area ready as the back of my opponent's head exploded. Amusement sprinkled over my lips as I chuckled, opening my palm as a beautiful soul flame appeared, burning with a vibrant hue.

"See? So easy."

Blood trickled down the elderly man's nose as he fell to his knee, planting his face into the dirt. I stepped over his limp body and stared at the rest of the men.

Horror gripped their expressions, but coldness was returned from mine as I singled out the best man or woman with the youngest appearance.

I tossed the Elderly Lord's soul into my mouth and smiled as his screams billowed into the wild, scaring the living shit out of everyone on their knees, frozen in place by my aura.

Images flickered through my mind, revealing a grim reality of what had happened throughout the few Dao Cycles since this man's birth. Gods were no longer immortal; in fact, they were considered mortals by almost every standard. Cannon fodder in this war against the Devils, Shadowfell, Undead, and Abyssal Fiends.

Elder Gods were still at the top of the food chain, but… You were cast away if you didn't show promise with a prominent bloodline. The higher beings would only rear children born with awakened bloodlines.

Lewis, this Elder God, was a castaway. He, a Highborn, the strongest of all Humans, was banished to fight in a senseless war.

Lilith started this shit because she thought Uriel did something. She doesn't even have a single memory of what happened. Damn. Things really went to shit, didn't they?


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