"Your majesty! Wake up! Please, wake up!"
Manon's pleas fell on deaf ears as no matter how he begged, the silent Clay Emperor paid no heed. Corrupted by demonic mana, the former sovereign had turned into a puppet and was simply a shell of what he once was. But, it wasn't to be misunderstood… Even though the Clay Emperor's mind had been completely taken over… his abilities remained fully intact.
Souls of the ancient empire were roused from their eternal slumber, turned into fuel for the greater abominations that seemed to possess enough power to fell an entire city. They were turned into pure energy, mere fodder in a whirlpool of suffering and hatred.
And this was too much for the kind-hearted Ellahan to endure.
"L-Leon, this is too much!"
"Yeah! Let's act now!"
Without sparing even a glance behind, Leon gave Ellahan his silent command to release everything she had. The Saintess of the Holy Church revered as the closest mortal to Goddess Hyades, dropped to her knees in a solemn prayer. Her lips moved with sacred incantations as waves of radiant energy surged from her core. In response, an ethereal tree—ancient and primaeval, as though born from the origin of life itself—sprouted from the depths of her soul.
[Genesis: Tree of Origin.]
Its glowing roots slithered outward, weaving across the chamber and transforming the grim battlefield into a sanctum of holy light. Divine energy, pure and overwhelming, flooded the catacombs. The air turned heavy with sanctity as the power spread exponentially, illuminating every corner.
Roots coiled around the lifeless clay husks that once held ancient spirits, burning away the demonic taint with divine mercy. Screams once twisted in agony now faded into whispers of peace as the majority of the ancient souls were cleansed, moments before the Clay Emperor could reforge them into weapons of war.
The remaining spirits, now freed from the Emperor's influence, drifted aimlessly, scattered fragments of once-proud warriors and nobles, lost and without purpose.
Fortunately, Eris was there.
With swift grace and unwavering focus, the necromancer moved through the chaos, her hands weaving silent rites of passage. She gathered the fractured souls into protective vessels, offering them rest and shelter, all while bolstering Ellahan's ongoing purification efforts with her magic. To r#epo$rt e*rr.or&s&,$ p&le-ase vi.sit the ori+g$inal. po.st$ on *..
However, her blasphemy did not go unnoticed.
Though bound and manipulated by Zuphil's curse, the Emperor's lingering will remained strong. Those were his souls… the remnants of his dynasty, his people, his empire.
And now, they were being stolen.
With a subtle but deliberate motion, the Clay Emperor raised his arm, and the entire mood shifted. He recalled what remained, every unpurified soul, every shard of pain and hatred, into a singular mass of dread and torment.
The clay statues, once elegant echoes of a lost age, began to convulse and deform.
No longer soldiers of empire, they became aberrations… monstrous amalgamations that straddled the line between beast and man.
Warped limbs, hollow eyes, and gaping mouths emerged as the Emperor reconstructed his army, not of discipline but of pure, seething hatred.
The battlefield, once sanctified, was now caught between divinity and damnation.
"Sir Manon! Get back!"
The Sky Spear, still caught in the delusion that he could save his liege, continued to beg… out of sorts and desperate. It took Leon's physical removal of the man for Manon to snap out of his stupor.
"Sir Manon! This isn't the time to be wallowing in grief! We need to stop him!"
Manon may be sentimental, but he wasn't dumb. He could tell that whatever was within the Clay Emperor's body wasn't the benevolent sovereign he once served faithfully. The fact that his subjects and former partners were now devolved into a cesspool of suffering was evidence enough that the man he once knew wasn't in control anymore.
"Y-you! You don't know what you're talking about! His majesty will awaken! He always does! He'll never lose to the likes of foreign corruption!"
"Y-you! How can you be so stubborn even after watching that?!"
The Clay Emperor's body had been corrupted, becoming a broken shell of what his regal form formerly was. None of his former flesh remained; half his face was rotten, and his mana was demonic. Even a four-year-old could tell… that wasn't a man who was meant to exist. Dıscover more novels at novᴇlfire.net
"Stubborn?! It's faith in my liege and creator! You have no idea what disasters we've been through together! Are you telling me to give up on him when he's never given up on me?!"
Leon froze, clearly taken aback by Manon's complete trust in his master. Then, the young Hero realised he was thinking about it the wrong way. If it were Amon who was taken over… would he be able to make the same decision?
So maybe… just maybe… it was fine to hope for a miracle.
"Fine… I'll trust you this time."
Leon finally relented and gave Manon the benefit of the doubt. He engulfed Ascalon in golden flames while standing to face the cyclone of demonic energy, which only intensified as the Clay Emperor continued to inflict suffering on his subjects.
"... we have to separate His Majesty's soul from the vessel. It has been aeons since His Majesty was awake, so his soul must be fatigued from his long slumber. If we can just separate his soul…"
"And how do you propose we do that?"
Manon raised his spear and transformed its golden tip into the familiar golden bell that chimed with impunity within the walls of El Dorado. Ringing it once more, he said:
"My spear holds the key to all souls within the Sekhmet Empire. His majesty tasked me to keep the souls in check while he rests. If I manage to pierce this spear into his majesty's heart… maybe I'll be able to extract his soul and keep it safe from the corruption."
"T-That's great! Then that's all you need to do!"
Leon was shocked at how simple the plan was. If that was the only thing they needed to do, then why were they squabbling like chickens? But unfortunately, it wasn't going to be that easy.
"His majesty… His body is impervious to my spear."
"This spear is physically incapable of piercing through his majesty's protection. Both his Aura and body deemed it impossible for the spear to land any fatal blows. That was the restriction placed on it."
"So… you will need to create an opening for me. One clear enough that my spear can pierce through his heart without touching any of his defences."
Leon stared at the rampaging Clay Emperor. While his body was corrupted by demonic mana, his awe-striking presence remained. Bolstered by the fact that he had a million souls to burn as fuel, it seemed nearly impossible for Leon or anyone else to weaken the Clay Emperor enough for Manon to land the fatal blow.
"Alternatively… I could keep screaming at his majesty and pray he wakes up?"
"... no, let's go with that plan."
Begrudgingly, Leon accepted Manon's outrageous plan. It was their only way of defeating the Clay Emperor now, before his corruption spread, and it became multiple times more difficult to subdue him.
"Fortunately, Ella and Eris could give us ample support in neutralising the rampant corrupted souls. It should weaken him a little bit."
Leon took two steps back and repeated the plan to his comrades. They were befuddled by the request, but trusted Leon enough to go with his crazy plan. Especially Ellahan. She ramped up her Holy Power output, and the Tree of Origin seemed to turn even more vivid with vibrant colours and a divine energy.
Leon charged forward, undaunted, aiming straight for the Clay Emperor still trapped within the swirling vortex of demonic mana and festering negativity. Every ounce of his strength, every drop of power coursing through his veins, was now channelled into the Holy Blade.
His Solaris bloodline, his elemental affinity with water, and the divine energy bestowed upon him all converged into his mortal vessel. In that moment, Leon no longer resembled a mere man. He became a Hero reborn.
From his right shoulder blade, a blazing wing of fire erupted, radiating righteous fury. From his left, a shimmering wing of water unfurled, cool and primordial. Both wings pulsed with transcendent brilliance, while a luminous halo crowned his brow, forged from pure holy light.
The air around him shimmered with his presence. Then, with a single, explosive swing of Ascalon, Leon tore through the cyclone of darkness. The unholy winds scattered, unveiling the figure at its centre… the Clay Emperor, still as stone, his expression unmoved. He looked down at Leon with the cold detachment of a god observing an insect.
Leon surged forward and swung Ascalon with all his might. The energies within him, fire, water, holiness, and sheer will, fused into a devastating burst, the strike landing with the force of a divine eruption.
Light exploded outward, engulfing the battlefield in blinding radiance. But when the light faded and the dust settled, the truth became clear.
The Clay Emperor stood untouched as if Leon's mightiest blow had never landed at all.
Then, without a word, the Emperor lowered his arm. His fingers spread. An invisible force slammed into Leon with the weight of ten rampaging elephants. The ground shattered beneath him as he was driven into the earth, crushed by a pressure that defied logic or mercy.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you! His Majesty has a telekinetic ability to help him repel all attacks! You should be wary of that!"
"... a bit late to tell me now, isn't it?"
Bit by bit, Leon was understanding how he should interact with this ancient fool. Dusting off the damage, he stood back up and prepared to launch another attack. But before Leon could even move, the Clay Emperor did something odd. He formed a hand sign, and a surge of mana spiked within the chambers.
"His majesty is calling forth his trump cards… Get ready!"
Before Leon could even respond to Manon's words, a crushing pressure descended upon the chamber — a suffocating weight that pressed down on every shoulder, thickening the air with pure mana. Breathing became difficult, and thoughts harder to form.
The oppressive force signalled only one thing: something immense was coming.
And then they appeared.
Two colossal figures descended, their bodies sculpted from divine clay, radiating power that shook the foundations of the sanctum. Each one pulsed with the boundless energy of countless souls, the very essence of the Clay Emperor's fallen subjects, now repurposed into his final guardians.
The first took the form of a warrior, its physique flawless, carved to embody the ideal immortal soldier, broad-shouldered, battle-scarred, and unyielding. Its fists alone looked capable of breaking mountains. Every fibre of its form screamed victory as if it had never once tasted defeat.
The second bore the likeness of a scholar cloaked in elegance and mystery. Magic orbs rotated endlessly around its body, orbiting in deliberate rhythm. Behind it spun a six-pronged wheel, a mystical sigil of unfathomable knowledge and arcane power. Its gaze, though lifeless, carried the presence of a thousand forgotten spells.
Warrior and magician. Strength and wisdom. One stood at the Emperor's right, the other at his left.
These were not mere guardians.
They were the Clay Emperor's final weapons, the last line of defence for a god-king's will.