Chapter 98

BOOM! The earth trembled once.

“An earthquake?” Negrilis exclaimed.

Outside, a sudden clamor erupted; everyone rushed out to see a colossal beam of light piercing straight down from the sky, striking the forest beyond Demon Valley.

Anthony and Negrilis turned pale; Anthony cried urgently: “No good! The Gods of Light haven’t vanished! This is the Heavenly Ladder—they’re using me as a beacon to teleport in! Quick, blow up my body!”

Negrilis shook his head: “Too late.”

The Heavenly Ladder was the name of that beam—a special teleportation method that directly pierced two planes, enabling massive troop deployment, serving as a bridge for the Holy Heaven’s conquest of other worlds.

The so-called Holy Heaven, according to the Church of Light’s legends, was a place without hunger, sorrow, pain, illness, aging, or separation, where rivers flowed with purified, honey-sweet holy water, granaries held endless grain, and joy and happiness never faded.

Anyone who cleansed their original sin could reach Heaven and enjoy eternal peace.

Everyone rushed toward the forest beyond Demon Valley and soon saw the beam’s impact point: the massive column smashed into the ground, blasting a huge circle in the forest, shattering every World Tree within it along with all nearby crops.

Seeing this, Ang’s head instantly ignited with blazing flames: How dare they blow up my trees…

A figure of light and shadow plummeted at high speed from the top of the beam, crashing to the ground with a THUD that made the earth jump.

The figure landed in a kneeling pose, hands braced on the ground, then snapped its head up—behind it, a pair of pure white wings snapped open, bursting forth from the beam.

It gripped the air with both hands, and as it swung, a blade of light solidified—clearly, a Holy Spirit Angel.

“The blood of the blasphemers is the finest offering to the Light,” declared the Holy Spirit Angel in a cold voice.

No sooner had it spoken than a beam of light slammed into it, instantly vaporizing its flesh and wings, leaving only a charred skeleton that collapsed with a thump.

Everyone stared in horror at the direction the beam came from: the tiny, adorable angel skeleton was turning to ash, its entire body dissolving into dust that drifted away, tugging at the heart.

Then… it shook its body, shedding the ash, revealing its pristine white bones, and casually scampered over to Ang, completely unfazed—when it first cast Holy Radiance, it had suffered, but now it showed no discomfort at all, clearly adapted.

Ang tilted his head: “Aow” (Too early).

The angel skeleton pointed at the shattered angel: “Aow aow!” (It threatened me).

“Aow!” (No fighting anymore).

The angel skeleton flapped its single remaining wing bone: “Aow!” (Fix it).

“Aow!” (No time, go).

BOOM! Another figure of light and shadow descended from the sky, striking the beam’s impact point—a new Holy Spirit Angel rose.

“Aow…” (Oh…) The angel skeleton drooped its wing bone and trudged away dejectedly.

The second Holy Spirit Angel burst from the beam, declaring: “Wherever Holy Light shines, darkness retreats.”

Whether darkness retreated or not was unknown, but one man didn’t retreat—he shoved a beet into his mouth and blocked the angel with his longsword, aiming straight for its face.

BOOM! Another figure of light and shadow plummeted from the sky.

As soon as it emerged from the teleportation array, a massive club swept through, striking the Holy Spirit Angel.

It couldn’t even finish its declaration—the angel barely raised its guard, and its entire form was flung airborne.

“This one’s mine! Don’t steal it!” The Grand Shaman bellowed, hefting a club as thick as a man’s waist; behind him stood a group of Purple Bone Titans, heartbroken for missing the fight.

If one had seen the old Purple Bone clan, they’d hardly recognize them now—each had grown a layer of fat, gained height, and even the Grand Shaman had changed, though the older ones showed less growth.

Adequate nutrition had reignited the growth of these half-breed Titans, giving them a second youth.

The third Holy Spirit Angel finally burst forth: “Purify the darkness…” Before it could finish, a barrage of fireballs struck its head.

Ang fired fireballs from afar—three per second—until the air filled with a continuous chain of fire, like a stream of flaming bullets.

At first, the Holy Spirit Angel paid no mind—this low-level magic couldn’t even pierce its holy armor; no need to block.

But when a continuous stream of fireballs slammed into it, it changed its mind.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM… The impacts merged into one continuous sound; each fireball only made its form tremble slightly, but the relentless barrage forced it backward, its holy armor’s strength rapidly degrading until visible cracks appeared.

The angel no longer dared to stand its ground—it kicked hard, leaping upward while flapping its wings violently sideways, twisting its ascent into a ninety-degree lateral dash.

But it was useless—Ang’s gaze locked onto it, and the fireballs in midair executed sharp, near-right-angle turns to chase the angel.

Because the angel moved, the fireballs formed a line, each intersecting the angel at a different trajectory, creating a dazzling, toothed pattern in the air.

As the angel flew, fireballs kept striking it; by the time it made its second turn, its holy armor shattered under the impact, and fireballs hit its body directly.

The angel’s holy light blazed fiercely, shielding its body with pure radiance, while its wings flapped frantically, twisting its form into impossible, serpentine contortions—like an ant on a hot pan.

Such violent maneuvers finally caused some fireballs to miss—at least one in ten overshot, losing Ang’s lock.

But what did it matter? The remaining nine-tenths still hammered into the angel, its holy radiance steadily stripped away layer by layer, visibly weakening until it vanished.

Fireballs kept striking the angel—it began to smoke, then catch fire, then suddenly lost control and plummeted, crashing to the ground; the residual force made it roll uncontrollably until it stopped, reduced to a charred corpse.

Everyone stared at Ang in stunned silence; some had heard Negrilis boast that Ang was a magic artillery platform, but today they finally understood what “artillery platform” truly meant.

A Holy Spirit Angel, reduced to a charred corpse by a Level One Fireball spell—good heavens, is a Level One spell really this terrifying?

Every Holy Spirit Angel that broke free from the encirclement faced a relentless hail of fireballs—whether they braced or dodged, none could breach the blockade and reach Ang’s side.

The remaining Purple Bone Titans, unable to land a hit, sat dejectedly on the ground drawing circles—they’d farmed for so long, hadn’t fought in ages, and their hands were itching.

But Anthony and Negrilis were not happy.

“These are all one-meter-ninety, first-rank angels—mere cannon fodder. The high-rank ones haven’t come down yet,” Anthony said, worried.

“Sigh, you’ve doomed us. I shouldn’t have let you mess around here. Are you doing this on purpose?” Negrilis sighed.

Anthony whined: “How was I supposed to know this would happen? Shouldn’t they have just burned me up on the spot? Why activate the Heavenly Ladder?”

It was like being able to crush an ant with one step, yet bringing out a cannon to blast it—the Heavenly Ladder wasn’t cheap to activate, while triggering Anthony’s divine energy to burn out was merely a thought away.

Unless… their target wasn’t Anthony at all.

“Hmm… I think it really has nothing to do with you. This isn’t the Heavenly Ladder—it’s the Heavenly Descent,” Negrilis murmured, gazing at the end of the beam.

At the beam’s apex, a colossal shadow appeared—like a vast mountain range—slowly descending along the light.

The shadow descended extremely slowly; at this rate, it would take at least a full day to reach the ground—but halfway down, night fell, and the wind rose.