[Location - The Skyward Region]
"It is irrelevant who I am, Dragon King," Raiking declared, as he gracefully assumed a seated, meditative posture in mid-air. "What truly matters is that both of us remain here."
With those final words, Raiking serenely closed his eyes, immersing himself in a profound state of cultivation.
His audacious actions provoked a visible storm within the Dragon King, whose scaled face betrayed his inner turmoil. He ground his sharp teeth and clenched his fists, the sound of his knuckles echoing ominously.
It was common knowledge that a cultivator was most vulnerable during such a trance. To invade his sovereign domain and immediately display such blatant disrespect—what ruler could endure such an affront?
However, the Dragon King had faced numerous battles against formidable adversaries. Unchecked rage was a swift path to ruin. Taking a deep, calming breath, he raised his arm, directing his palm toward Raiking as he began channeling his immense reserves of mana.
He invoked a supreme technique known only to the highest ranks of Earth cultivators:
"Heavenly Pillars of Damnation."
Although no land was visible beneath the expansive sky, his True Divinity was the Earth itself. Wherever soil and stone were buried, they responded to his call—and indeed they did, from the very depths of the ocean.
The ocean floor convulsed violently, as if leviathans were breaking the surface. But what emerged were not sea kings, but gigantic pillars of hyper-condensed clay and stone. Each was formidable enough to annihilate a Peak Divine Cultivator with ease.
Raiking remained unfazed by the sudden, crushing pressure in the air, his eyes staying peacefully closed.
"Do not carry such arrogance into your next life, young man," the Dragon King growled, tightening his raised fist.
In response, the enormous pillars shot upward like meteors in reverse, targeting Raiking. Yet, the God of Death effortlessly blinked in and out of space, teleporting around the massive onslaught without ever disturbing his meditative posture, as the pillars soared into the sky, piercing the dense clouds above.
"Hmph. It appears your arrogance is not just for show. Let's find out if you can endure this as well."
The Dragon King elevated his hand further towards the clouds which had been pierced, his formidable spiritual energy scattering the cloud cover and unveiling the colossal pillars that were now hovering above them. With a thunderous roar, he brought his hands down forcefully. The pillars plummeted at once, no longer defying gravity but instead harnessing its power, turning into a catastrophic meteor shower.
---
[Location - Gates of the Azure Tribe]
Meanwhile, as the sky unleashed its earthen fury miles above, Illinos finally managed to stagger to the grand entrance of the Azure Clan. Bleeding and breathless, he dragged his shattered body through the shimmering defensive formation—a barrier that strictly barred non-Phoenix Kin from entering.
Before stepping through the main gate, he paused in the shadows. He tore a strip of leather from his armor and tightly bound his bleeding leg. The Nirvana Festival was in full swing, and Illinos was determined not to incite panic—especially not tonight, when the Phoenix Kin had finally mustered the courage to fully embrace and celebrate their heritage.
His sole mission was to quietly inform the Clan Leaders and allow them to decide on the military response.
As he entered through the main gate, he maneuvered through the bustling, joyful crowds with a forced, stiff smile. He nodded politely to the villagers who recognized him, but never lingered long enough for them to notice his vulnerability.
The further he walked, the worse his leg felt. It wasn't the usual burning pain of a training injury. Instead, it was an odd, unusual sensation—a cold, numbing creep that seemed to burrow deeper into his flesh with each step. He dismissed it, attributing the strange feeling to the fact that he had never suffered such a severe combat wound before.
After agonizing minutes of limping through the festivities, he finally reached the mainhall where the Leaders and Elders were currently residing.
He pushed through the doors, the loud creak causing all heads in the hall to turn his way. The first to react was his father, Venae, the Leader of the Golden Feather Tribe. The older man instantly recognized the pale, haunted look on his son's face, one he had never seen before.
"Illinos? What has transpired?" Venae demanded, swiftly rising from his seat of honor and rushing to his son's side.
"I... I was attacked!" Illinos gasped, nearly collapsing into his father's embrace.
"Attacked?!" Elder Mushai exclaimed, standing abruptly.
"By whom?!" Venae demanded, his presence growing more intense.
"...Everyone is dead, Father."
In that moment, Illinos finally found space to fully grieve. Although Venae could sense the overwhelming sorrow in his son's eyes, he knew that as Chieftain, there was no time for such emotions.
"Son, speak to me," Venae commanded with a firm grip on Illinos's shoulders. "Who is responsible for this?"
Illinos was uncertain about the identity of the invaders. However, he had previously confronted demons at the borders. Across the continent, they were the only ones capable of using Void Magic without facing severe cosmic consequences.
"It... it was the Demon Clan!"
"Demons? During a Festival?" Ragina inquired, her eyebrows knitting together in bewilderment.
Just as Ellomon and Neihina were about to express their indignation, an unusual voice interrupted the charged atmosphere—a voice rarely heard in these wartime political discussions.
"Perhaps they are here for the Queen."
All heads turned to Elder Wenya. Though she understood the terrifying truth of the situation and the God of Death's impending purge, her role now was to ensure no one else grasped what was truly unfolding until it was too late.
"Do you mean they are planning an assassination?" Ellomon asked, his eyes narrowing.
"What other reason could there be?" Wenya reasoned smoothly, her voice perfectly steady. "The Queen has just displayed her True Divinity to the entire continent. Our enemies would naturally not want a cultivator who has the potential to ascend to a Demigod to remain alive."
The hall fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Wenya's logic was impeccable. True Divinity cultivators were extraordinarily rare, their numbers countable on two hands. Above them were only the legendary Demigods—beings such as the Demon King, the Divine Emperor, and the Dragon King. Such supreme entities could easily dictate the fate of the entire world.
"We must alert the Queen at once—"
Neihina was suddenly cut off by a chilling, heart-stopping scream emanating from Illinos.
"ARRRGGGHHH!"
"Son?!" Venae shouted, falling to his knees as Illinos fell to the stone floor, convulsing violently.
"My... my leg!! It hurts so badly! Father, help me!"
Venae immediately tore away the makeshift leather bandages from his son's thigh, revealing a gruesome, impossible scene. Jagged, silver-black crystals were erupting directly out of the open wound, multiplying rapidly and burrowing their way up his leg, consuming flesh and armor alike.
"What is this?!" Venae cried out in horror. He turned frantically to Ragina, the most proficient Water Magic healer in the room. She quickly dropped beside them, channeling a stream of pure, soothing blue energy into the crystals to identify their source and halt the infection.
The moment her mana touched the silver shards, she recoiled as if burned.
"Void Magic," Ragina whispered, her face draining of color.
"So it really is the Demon Clan," Wenya noted quietly from the back of the room.
"ARRRGGGHHH!" Illinos shrieked again, his veins turning a sickly, glowing purple.
"Quick! Do something!" Venae shouted, his usual calm as Chieftain completely shattered.
As Ragina raised her glowing hands, ready to channel Water Magic into the wound, Illinos suddenly gasped, his eyes widening in terror. He sensed something profoundly wrong within him—a cold, jagged force creeping through his veins.
Though he couldn't logically explain this impossible sensation, his finely honed warrior instincts detected an impending catastrophic threat brewing inside him.
"Father! Keep your distance from me!"
Fueled by a desperate surge of adrenaline, Illinos pushed his palm against Venae's chest. It wasn't an attack; rather, he used the momentum to propel himself backward, soaring through the air towards the main doors.
"Illinos!" Venae shouted, quickly rising to his feet to pursue his son.
This was a significant error.
Illinos's alarming intuition proved correct. The sharp Void crystals had reached his stomach, but instead of spreading to his other limbs, they rapidly condensed.
In mid-air, Illinos's abdomen burst open as a torrent of crystals erupted from his torso. The jagged shards immediately fused and expanded upon exposure to the open air, quickly forming the towering and menacing figure of a Crystalline Void Guardian.
Without losing any momentum, even before Illinos's body reached the ground, the beast propelled itself forward through the air, its razor-sharp claws ready to impale the approaching Venae.