Chapter 240 – Floor 42: Part 7

  The sky quivered.

  It was a trembling, dark slate of thunderclouds. A gust of wind swept across the city, carrying with it smoke and dust. The Demon-Blooded Mercy loomed above everything; her immense form of obsidian skin blocked out the light.

  Hovering in the air above, Mathew stood on the back of the summoned Wyvern. The Wrathful Blade was held upright in both his hands; the rusted weapon looked old, dull and heavy. Gripping the sword tightly, Mathew shouted.

  “A Shattered Sky!”

  He poured every ounce of his essence into the Words of Power, drawing on the memory he had seen through his connection with the Song of Creation. It had been of a star exploding and the terrible devastation unleashed upon a solar system.

  The Wrathful Blade ignited with starlight, a bluish-white glow of radiance that grew in strength until it was a blazing thread of light that seemed to inhale the colours around it. With a swift, unrelenting motion, Mathew swung the sword downward, directing every ounce of his will into the strike.

  The blade sliced through the air with a shriek that sounded as if reality itself was being torn asunder.

  The sky split open, torn like fragile cloth under the power of the sword’s arc. A blinding fissure ripped through the clouds, cleaving them apart in a jagged, glaring line that bled white light. A thunderous explosion of sound rang out as lightning shot down from the fracture.

  The wound in the sky extended further as the sword continued its descent toward the horizon. It moved slowly as if the flat end of the blade were catching onto the clouds and ripping through them. The fissure peeled open wider and wider until it revealed something beyond.

  It was a place untouched by light or shadow, a vast expanse of nothingness that seemed to pull at everything around it, hungering to devour all that dared approach. Mathew let the energy in the sword fade as his momentum carried the blade to complete its arc and come to rest, pointing downwards.

  “A Fragile Light.” Mathew whispered; his attack with The Wrathful Blade had left him drained.

  In the center of that void, a single, tiny spark of brightness appeared. The fragile light wavered at first, a trembling ember in the heart of the abyss. It was barely more than a pinprick, unstable and uncertain as if a single breath might extinguish it.

  Yet the small light persisted, flickering faintly against the suffocating darkness. In moments, the pinprick of light flared, doubling, then tripling in size. It cast a glow on the city beneath it, like a second sun beginning to rise.

  It burned with a white-hot intensity, no longer trembling but steady. Its core was a molten white, fringed with the faintest hints of gold. It expanded further; the glow stretched out and peeled back the darkness surrounding it.

  The air around Mathew grew warm, then burning hot. The light pulsed, each thrum shaking the very fabric of the void. The spark had changed into a ball of fire; its edges formed arcs of brilliance. It burned away the void, feeding on it to form a blazing sphere.

  Mathew watched as the small spark turned into a new sun in the sky above them, its surface ripping with streams of pure white fire. It cast rays of light in every direction, flooding the city below with its radiance.

  When it reached its full size, Mathew spoke the final part of the Celestial Spell. He invoked a memory that he had found through his connection with the universe around him. A dying star was going supernova.

  “A Silent Collapse.”

  The star faltered; its core collapsed inward with the weight of untold millennia. For a heartbeat, it was a singularity of unimaginable density, holding its light captive. Then it exploded outward in a violent release, a shockwave of white-hot plasma surging through space, tearing apart the fabric of the universe in a fleeting, furious display.

  The fissure shook and threatened to collapse as it was unable to contain the sheer volume of energy being unleashed by the collapsing star. Mathew waited until the moment it would fail before speaking the final words.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  “A Shattered Sky, A Fragile Light, A Silent Collapse.” Mathew whispered, his voice starting softly before gaining strength. He continued the spell, shouting at the top of his lungs as he directed the celestial energy being unleashed by the supernova downward toward the Demonic form of Mercy.

  “In Cleansing Fire, You Shall Be Consumed!”

  The fissure in the sky widened; its jagged edges glowed with a molten intensity as if the heavens themselves were bleeding light. From its depths, a surge of energy erupted. The heart of the collapsing star had been unleashed. It came through the fissure in a cataclysmic torrent, a great pillar of white fire that tore through the sky.

  The pillar blazed with blinding ferocity, its core impossibly bright with the concentrated fury of a dying star. It descended with terrifying speed, a spear of celestial flame that seared through the void with unrelenting momentum.

  The air around it trembled, distorting in waves of unbearable heat and light that warped the fabric of existence.

  Mercy, her demonic face twisted in shock and rage, raised both of her hands upwards and screamed.

  “No!”

  Her voice tore through the air, a raw, desperate howl that reverberated across the shattered ruins of buildings and the streets around her. The ground beneath her feet cracked and splintered; the sky above pulsed with the energy of her fury.

  Mercy’s hands, dark and twisted with infernal power, stretched toward the descending pillar of fire as if she could wrest control from the very force of the universe.

  But the pillar of light and fire didn’t falter. It continued its descent, a blazing spear of annihilations. Its light was too pure, too fierce for the Demon-Blooded Mercy to overcome. The heat was suffocating, searing the air around it.

  Mercy’s form flickered in the harsh glow; the infernal markings on her skin burned bright as she fought against the overwhelming tide. Streams of molten, crimson blood ran down her body from cracks that split open her flesh.

  “Mischievous Depravity, help me!” Her demonic face twisted in agony; the enormity of the force of destruction pushing against her was too much to stop. But she still fought it with every ounce of power she had.

  When the pillar struck the ground, the earth quaked in protest. A shockwave rippled outwards, scattering debris and shattering stone and asphalt. The fire burned with an intensity that drove away the darkness and the clouds above.

  Its edges flared with tendrils of gold and silver that lashed out like limbs curling in upon itself. The sky above convulsed as more energy spilled through the fissure, but the pillar remained the focal point. It was a divine spear summoned by Mathew to plunge down from the heavens.

  Mercy disappeared inside this fire as the pillar drilled down into the earth, destroying the former construction site but leaving the buildings outside it untouched. It continued burning for long moments before its like began to fade.

  The pillar of fire retracted into the sky while the fissure slowly closed. It was a wound that quickly healed, sealing away until the only trace of its existence was the lack of clouds where it had been.

  Mathew stared in shock at the location where Mercy had been standing. There was nothing left but a crater in the ground, with a single untouched section of concrete and asphalt. In the center was Mercy, her demonic body untouched by the flames.

  She was panting, her hands still raised shakily in front of her. A barrier of divine light had sprung up around her, similar to Mathew’s ‘Sanctuary’ Word of Power, only this one had a malevolent edge to it. Flaming red, the barrier had black veins of mana running through it.

  “Mischievous Depravity.” Mathew muttered, already understanding where this diving intervention had come from. His Mentor was correct; the god was more than willing to place their thumb on the scale during this contest.

  Mercy’s face split into a grin as she began to recover. Gathering her mana around her like a black cloud of miasma, she prepared to kill Mathew.

  “I’m going to enjoy this, Mathew.” Mercy promised. The cloud of black energy gathered into a ball in her massive, clawed hand. Mathew could feel the power within it. It was more than enough to destroy him, the Wyvern beneath his feet and many of the buildings behind him.

  Drawing back her arm, she was about to hurl it forward when she was interrupted.

  Suddenly, without warning, Lunara stood on the Wyvern next to him. She had returned to her Celestial form; her body seemed ethereal and nearly translucent. There was an effortless strength about her, a self-confidence that no matter what happened in the world around her, she would remain unaffected.

  “Mentor.” Mathew said, bowing his head slightly in greeting to his teacher.

  “I assured you I would keep things fair and balanced in this content, Student.” Lunara replied as she stared down at Mercy and the barrier formed by Mischievous Depravity’s divine power.

  “I believe you have won this contest.” Lunara finished before gesturing with her hand. She spoke a word in the Celestial Language that Mathew couldn’t hear, a whisper that was beyond his comprehension to understand.

  Mercy’s face turned from an expression of sadistic pleasure to shock in an instant. The barrier around her faded away to nothing, and she disappeared along with it. So quickly did this change happen that the demon-blooded Mercy didn’t have a chance to react or speak.

  Soon, they were left alone. The Villains had fled, and numerous Heroes began to enter the area to assist in securing the damage and helping the injured.

  “Is she dead?” Mathew asked.

  “No, merely banished from this world. Even I can’t fight a god, Student, and Unyielding Declaration is not in a position to contest their interference. We will need to accept our victory and carry on.”

  Mathew was about to respond when he heard the familiar ‘ding’ of the Tower notifying him of a Floor completion.