Ashen Dragon

"His Majesty Wilhelm will certainly lead us to break through the siege and move towards a bright future!"

Dayev couldn't help but look up, seeing the Sun God Tower radiate a blaze of light, as Wilhelm slowly rose and appeared at the top of the tower.

Basking in the endless radiance, his tall and robust body was covered with divine runes, and the six burning wings slowly waved, with clearly visible golden suns in his pupils, making him seem like a god descended to earth.

In his hand was the "Final Judgement" Spiral Spear, its shaft composed of seven intertwining Holy Light Chains, with a miniature sun at the tip continually collapsing and reassembling.

Even Dayev murmured to himself, "His Majesty Wilhelm... he seems to have grown even stronger."

Since the Sun God fell into slumber, the strength of Divine Descendants across the land has been gradually weakening, except for His Majesty Wilhelm, who remains strong, like the everlasting sun in the sky.

"Long live His Majesty Wilhelm!"

"Long live Thrace!"

Thracian soldiers cheered fervently.

Wilhelm clasped the Spiral Spear with both hands, its tip suddenly releasing a sky-piercing beam of light, causing an enormous Sun Holy Emblem to appear in the sky.

He gazed sternly around before slowly speaking, "My subjects, bathed in the light of Amanata— the most perilous moment has arrived!

Dragons from the North and their Claws and Fangs have crossed the Radiant Mountains, advancing towards Augustus, intending to make Thrace their territory.

They want to enslave the Sun God's people, drain our blood and souls, turning this sacred land into one filled with bloodshed and sin!"

"Such beasts, unaware of death!"

"That Monster!"

"No worries, Wilhelm will lead us to kill it!"

Instantly, the soldiers erupted, cursing and spitting venomously, wishing to decapitate the dragon and break its wings as a Sacrifice to the Sun God.

Wilhelm's expression became stern, exuding authority without anger, his voice growing firm and powerful.

"The Seventh Sin, Gluttony." With the declaration of Judgment, the Final Judgement Spear split into seven spiraling beams, piercing precisely through the greed mark in the dragon's heart. The dragon did not explode; instead, countless glowing wheats emerged from the wound, cursed with divinity, greedily absorbing the demon flesh, quickly draining the dragon's hundred-meter-long body into a skeleton adorned with wheat.

From the ground battlefield came the roaring clatter of gears. Three hundred Stone Demon Statues leaped down from the Prism Tower, obsidian joints spraying blue flames powered by sulfur gunpowder. Their attack method was primitive yet efficient: tearing through Hellhound packs with Starfall Iron forged claws, the remnants of shattered golems triggering the Earth Elemental Lord's self-destruct program, dragging all enemies within thirty meters into a gravity-collapse pit.

The Arcane Legion finally revealed their fangs. Armor plates atop the Secret Law Corridor slid to the sides, extending three Entropy Change Disintegration Cannons filled with rune-covered barrels. Saruman's apparition hovered at the center of the cannon array, seven hundred Mages channeling Magic Power into the cannon's causal equation through Arcane Crystals. When the dark red beam hit the Devil Army's midsection, a horrifying sight unfolded: the Berserker Demons, frozen in their charging posture, gradually disintegrated from foot to basic particle dust like being erased by an unseen eraser. This wasn't Destruction, but a conceptual deletion of existence.

"Beware the Shadow Dimension!" Ophelia suddenly swooped towards the Sun God Tower. She discerned sixteen spatial folds spreading along the tower's Barrier— the Shadow Dancer assassins had breached the phase shield. Her rune wings ejected streams of light particles, completing an supersonic return within a millisecond, leaving seven hundred and twenty crisscrossing light paths along the way. As her form solidified, sixteen Shadow Dancers appeared within the net-like light paths, their bodies sliced into fragments by Holy Light yet to touch the ground, vaporized in the Choir's purifying chant.

The battle turned in the fifth hour. The Gate of Hell fully opened on the northern plains, with Abyssal Lord Akmonde's horns piercing the reality veil. Ophelia's wings began seeping blood-gold liquid, overusing the Divine Punishment power was backlashing her spirit body. Saruman's holographic image flickered beside her, "Activate the Final Protocol now, or the tower's Barrier won't withstand the next assault."

Ophelia stabbed the spear into her own chest, the Divine Blood Crystal burst forth with supernova-level brilliance. The Sun God Tower's Obelisk Group resonated synchronously, phantoms of fallen angels emerged from epitaphs. Her Six Wings completely transformed into light-focused swords crossing the heavens. This is the ultimate Judgment capable of even scorching the divinity— "Martyr Dawn."

Six-winged Angel Ophelia hovered above the clouds, her existence epitomizing the essence of "holy." The six wings weren't mere feather accumulations, but coagulated pure Light Laws: the outermost wings flowed like molten gold, blazing fiercely enough to scorch Evil Spirit souls; the middle wings morphed into countless diamond light blades, their metal state armor sharp enough to rip space; the innermost pair were the most peculiar— woven from semi-translucent dark gold rune chains, with each chain section chanting different passages of the "Sun Holy Scripture." When she fully deployed her wings, clouds within five leagues evaporated, casting six overlapping light imprints resembling divine punishment across the land.

Her face was veiled by a shimmering aura, leaving only those clear eyes: the left was a burning platinum sun wheel, while the right was a jet-black void vortex, the legend says it's the "Punishment Eyes" inherited from gouging out her Fallen Angel brother, capable of directly seeing the sin burden of souls. Her armor crafted from Star Realm Giant Dragon Reverse Scales, etched with thirty-six thousand micro Holy Matrices, the "Martyr's Heart" embedded in the chest is a still-beating Divine Blood Crystal, each pulse triggers a hundred-meter Holy Light pulse.

As the Commander of the Angel Guard, Ophelia's weapon was the "Final Judgement" Spiral Spear. Its shaft was composed of seven entwined Holy Light Chains, with a continuously collapsing and reforming miniature sun suspended at its tip. When she hurled the spear, it fragmented into seven hundred tracking Holy Flames, each flame automatically adjusted its damage based on the target's Sin Value— causing only a scorching warning to innocents, while triggering Chain Holy Light Splitting upon Abyss Creatures.

In non-combat mode, her wings would retract into six cloaks flowing with Light Sand, yet all mortals witnessing this scene would inexplicably weep, as the cloaks' folds perpetually echoed the wails of purified Evil Spirits. Augustus's children rumored, whenever the Blood Moon rises, Ophelia would ascend alone to the atmosphere's edge, using wings to slice moonlight into new Defense Runes— the fallen Moon Dust became dew sparkling atop the church spires the next morning.

The moss on the sewer arch glimmered a ghostly green under the dim phosphorescent lantern, the murky sewage lapping over boot soles, each step stirring a viscous "gurgle." Purple-black mucus seeped from cracks in the walls, converging like veins toward the drain— a characteristic neural corroding substance unique to Spirit Sucking Monster Nests, causing hallucinations when inhaled by ordinary people, as if countless tiny tendrils wriggled in ear canals. Abruptly, a segment of a broken cast-iron pipe emitted a "click" of bone realignment, like something twisting through the narrow space.

Three patrolling guards raised their lanterns, and the sewage suddenly exploded! Four Spirit Sucking Monsters burst from below, their pale humanoid torsos cloaked in detritus, octopus-like head tentacles vibrating at high frequencies, releasing a visibly purple Mind Shock Wave. The foremost guard's helmet dented, his eyeball bursting into a blood mist under increased cranial pressure; the second hadn't yet screamed before a tentacle pierced his ear canal, spine puppet-like pulled from the shell; the sole survivor staggered back, his gun misfiring drowned by the subfrequency wails collectively emitted by the Spirit Sucking Monsters.