Boundless elemental energy was drawn by the Staff of the End, illuminating the sky with brilliant radiance. Lightning crackled amidst the clouds of deathly mist, and crimson light flickered faintly within. Yet, these elemental lights served only to highlight the immense and oppressive vortex of death energy swirling above, as they flickered within its vast expanse.
Doomsday Judgment!
The large-scale destruction spell, meticulously designed by Muria, activated. Centered on death energy, which was devastating to living beings, the spell unleashed a rain of meteors imbued with fire and lightning. These meteors rained down across a vast area spanning thousands of square kilometers, delivering indiscriminate destruction.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The meteors that directly struck the Evil God's minions annihilated them instantly with sheer kinetic force, leaving them no time to scream.
Those who were merely grazed by the meteors fared no better. Death energy corroded their souls and drained the vitality from their bodies, leaving them to die in despair and agony.
Each meteor exploded amidst the dense swarm of Evil God's minions, creating an ocean of destruction. Elemental mushroom clouds bloomed across the battlefield, and beneath them, grotesque flowers of blood and flesh unfolded in grotesque patterns.
In the eyes of mortals, a spell of this magnitude—approaching the pinnacle of legendary magic—was no different from an apocalyptic disaster. For the Evil God's minions caught within its range, it was exactly that.
This spell, designed specifically to target them, was a composite spell crafted by a being of epic stature. It was not a rigid, one-size-fits-all formula but a flexible creation that could adapt to specific situations.
At this moment, the spell used death energy as its core to maximize lethality against living creatures, with fire and lightning enhancing its destructive power. Meteors of varying sizes descended, most targeting the Evil God's avatar while a smaller portion struck its minions. Even this was enough to leave the monstrous creatures struggling to survive.
"Roar!"
The Evil God's avatar bellowed in fury. "Ignorant native ant! Your attacks are meaningless against me. All you've done is ensure your own destruction by provoking me."
"Stubborn fool," Muria's Death God avatar muttered, raising the Staff of the End to sustain the spell. This was the first live test of the spell he had long conceived, and the results were revealing.
The massive meteors crashed into the swirling darkness surrounding the Evil God's avatar. At first, the explosions only created dazzling bursts of fire and lightning. But as the barrage continued, the combined forces of lightning, fire, and death energy began to pierce through the outer defenses, striking the avatar's body and causing it pain.
Yes, pain—this was the most the spell could achieve against the avatar. After all, this was a large-scale spell designed for mass destruction, not a focused single-target attack.
Under the relentless bombardment, the avatar's enormous body trembled, and the darkness surrounding it was dispelled. However, many of the meteors were intercepted before they could reach the avatar, destroyed mid-air by its destructive beams and flailing tentacles.
This outcome was expected. Muria had never intended for the spell to seriously harm the avatar. Its primary purpose was to decimate the minions accompanying it.
Though the most powerful minions could survive such an assault, the weaker ones were guaranteed to perish en masse. Even the survivors would likely sustain injuries that would not heal quickly.
This was enough. In any war, victory was often determined by numerical and strategic advantages. The same held true in battles involving extraordinary beings. If one side held the upper hand in numbers or the strength of its supporting forces, the outcome was rarely in doubt.
"Good enough," Muria said, halting the spell when he realized it would yield no further significant damage to the Evil God or its remaining minions.
"All warships, focus your main cannons. Fire at will!"
Rather than engage the Evil God avatar directly, Muria chose to rely on his ghost fleet. There was no need to rush.
Boom! Boom!
The battlefield, briefly quiet after the cessation of the meteor rain, was once again engulfed in the eerie rumble of death energy cannons. The Evil God's avatar glared at Muria with unmistakable hostility. Its massive, grotesque body flickered and suddenly tore through space, appearing directly before Muria's avatar.
Earlier, the avatar had hesitated to act rashly, concerned about preserving its minions. But now that most of them had been annihilated, it had no such qualms.
Boom!
Dozens of massive tentacles lashed out simultaneously, shattering the surrounding space and generating shockwaves that rippled in all directions. But before the tentacles could strike, Muria's avatar dodged nimbly.
He was playing the role of a spellcaster, not a melee fighter, and he intended to stay true to that persona.
The tentacles crashed into the massive ghost ship beneath Muria, breaking off a large section. Ethereal, wailing souls scattered as semi-transparent spiritual metal fragments flew in all directions.
The massive, sentient ship let out a soul-deep wail of anguish, trembling from the damage it had sustained. But Muria showed no concern. He wasn't foolish enough to risk taking such an attack head-on to protect a war machine that existed solely to serve him.
"Weren't you boasting just a moment ago? Why are you dodging now?" the Evil God sneered.
"Avoiding attacks doesn't contradict my arrogance," Muria retorted, his tone laced with mockery. "Idiot."
Stellar Shackles!
Muria extended the Staff of the End, and chains materialized around the Evil God's avatar, binding its grotesque form. These chains were inspired by his personal weapon, the Chains of Nebula, and served as a powerful binding spell.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Without missing a beat, Muria commanded his ghost fleet to unleash another concentrated barrage. The relentless assault drove the Evil God into a frenzy.
For beings of such stature, emotions were rarely swayed by trivial matters. But when they did succumb to anger, their fury was far more intense than that of mortals.
Outside the world, Muria's true body sat cross-legged in meditation. His gaze shifted toward the visibly agitated Evil God, and he couldn't help but feign curiosity.
"What's wrong? Did something unpleasant happen to your avatar or minions down there?"
"This has nothing to do with you," the Evil God snapped, casting a wary glance at the formidable Titan. Despite its resentment toward the god who had extorted it earlier, it had no intention of provoking another conflict.
"Of course, it doesn't," Muria replied, his lips curling into a faint smirk.
"It seems your avatar is engaged in a rather intense battle," interjected the Whale God, its massive blue eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Care to share what's going on?"
"Yeah, some intel would be nice," added the Mecha God.
"Hmph, you'll find out when you encounter it yourselves," the Evil God retorted, refusing to share information without any compensation.
Just as Muria prepared to provoke the Evil God further, an immense surge of energy erupted beside him. The familiar golden glow of a dimensional rift illuminated the space as a regal, golden-scaled dragon emerged.
The newcomer was an elegant and majestic dragon, over a kilometer in length. Her very presence seemed to twist the surrounding space, and golden flames radiated from the gaps in her scales, forming a blazing sphere of light around her body.
"Grandmother?" Muria asked uncertainly, recognizing the aura yet astonished by its overwhelming intensity.
"Yes, it's me, Muria," the colossal dragon confirmed. Her voice was calm but carried immense power. "Do not be alarmed. My current state is necessary for the strength I require."
Her appearance was breathtaking, reminiscent of a sun illuminating the void. In fact, with her current power, she could easily become the solar core of an entire world, bringing light and life to its inhabitants.
"What happened?" Muria asked, his tone turning serious.
"Your grandfathers, Arckmond and Deimos, have both gone missing while searching for your son."
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