Ares, the formidable god of war, entered the fray with his legendary prowess in full display. Each of his movements was a testament to countless battles he had participated in, and each step oozed with deadly intent.
It was the Abbot who dared to intercept him. Taking a deep breath, he began chanting a series of incantations under his breath. Within moments, his right fist became engulfed in fierce flames, and he hurled a massive fireball straight at Ares. Almost simultaneously, his left hand shimmered with a cold aura, and he dispatched an ice ball with equal force.
To any ordinary foe, this dual elemental onslaught would have been lethal. But Ares was no ordinary adversary. He deftly evaded the fireball while deflecting the ice ball with a sweep of his arm. Yet, the Abbot wasn't done. Gathering his energy, he forced both hands together, merging the opposing elements. Tapping into the ancient power of Dao, he forged a devastating energy blast that hurtled toward Ares.
The impact made Ares stagger, his armor sizzling from the combined cold and heat. He groaned, feeling the pain deep in his bones. However, as he looked up, his eyes were filled not with fear, but with rage and determination. Stopping in his tracks, Ares locked eyes with the Abbot. With a roar, he lifted his massive battle axe and swung it down with such ferocity that the very ground beneath them trembled.
KABOOM!!
A huge dust cloud obscured the battlefield. When it settled, it revealed that Ares' strike had only cleaved through a mirage of the Abbot. Yet, some distance away, the true Abbot knelt on one knee, blood dribbling from his mouth. The sheer power behind Ares' blow had sent out a shockwave that inflicted internal injuries even without direct contact.
Without wasting a moment, the Abbot began another chant. His form was soon enveloped in a golden glow reminiscent of a large bell. As the light faded, he stood tall, now clad in gleaming armor, his resolve unwavering as he prepared to face Ares again.
In the meantime, Morgana and Fjolrin found themselves locked in a fierce struggle against the mighty Poseidon. Every blow, every dodge, and every counter spelled desperation.
Emery, watching his friends face such dire straits, felt an overwhelming mix of anger, fear, and desperation. He couldn't contain it any longer, and a guttural scream erupted from deep within him, echoing across the battlefield: "You Bastards!!"
Just as the weight of hopelessness threatened to crush Emery and his allies, a sudden shift occurred. Kronos, the mastermind of this onslaught, momentarily halted. His piercing gaze was directed toward the dark, infinite expanse of space. His brow furrowed in curiosity.
"Seems we have another guest," he remarked dryly.
Emery's heart skipped a beat. He had been waiting for reinforcements, specifically the Magus alliance emissary. The idea that help might be at hand ignited a glimmer of hope in his chest. But as he attuned himself to the approaching energy, Emery's heart sank; it was emanating not from where the emissaries would come but from Earth.
From the abyss, a meteoric figure descended, engulfed in a blazing inferno. His presence was formidable and in his grip was a glaive, its blade as black as the void, creating a striking juxtaposition against the searing flames that enveloped him.
Just like a fallen comet, the figure made his grand entrance. Rising from the crater he created, dust and debris settling around him, he looked infuriated. He surveyed the chaos before him, his eyes burning with fury.
"How dare you all start such a battle without inviting me?!" His voice boomed, echoing across the vast lunar plains.
Emerging from the fiery haze, the identity of the intruder became clear. It was Thrax, the Immortal Gladiator, who was already breakthrough into a Magus's realm.
Emery's initial relief at seeing a familiar ally was quickly tempered by reality. Despite Thrax's impressive entry, there was no guarantee that even his formidable power could tip the scales in their favor. Yet, the sudden appearance seemed to have at least piqued Kronos's interest, momentarily diverting his attention. Emery seized this brief respite, activating his [Blink] ability to put some distance between himself and the formidable god.
Kronos's voice, dripping with contempt, thundered across the battlefield, "You think you can flee from me?!"
With urgency driving him, Emery invoked the arcane [Void Mist]. The immediate vicinity was bathed in an ethereal fog, out of which emerged doppelgangers of Emery, each one mirroring his movements with eerie precision. These shadowy replicas rushed at Poseidon and Ares, weaving between attacks and causing momentary chaos. Meanwhile, the real Emery used this diversion to quickly rally his allies, pulling them into a consolidated position.
As the mist began to dissipate, the looming form of Kronos entered the scene, only moments too late. Emery, drawing upon the depths of his spirit energy, conjured the [Aegis of Void] - a sphere of pulsating dark energy that encapsulated him and his companions. The shield vibrated with the raw power of Khaos, designed to withstand even the mightiest of blows.
Kronos' eyes narrowed, scorn evident in his voice, "So now you choose to cower? Face me, coward!"
In his fury, Kronos signaled his two magus lieutenants to lay siege to Emery's protective sphere. With every ounce of his being, Emery funneled the chaotic energies of Khaos into the [Aegis of Void], striving to keep its integrity.
On the sidelines, Thrax's who just arrived and was the only one still unhurt among the group growled, "Emery, let me fight! I can help!!"
Emery, sweat glistening on his brow and his voice strained, responded, "Hold, Thrax. You will…" With his magical energies stretched to their limits maintaining the barrier, Emery attempted to weave another spell - a portal, their possible escape route. But every forceful strike from Kronos threatened its formation, each blow tearing at the fabric of the shield and siphoning away its strength.
Feeling the weight of impending doom, Emery urged his allies, "All of you heal up quickly… ready for our last stand"
Thrax, his spirit undeterred by the grim scenario, eagerly pounded his chest, chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" His battle fervor contrasted Emery's strategic calm.
But just as Emery's barrier began to show signs of faltering a new variable entered the equation. From the distant expanse of the cosmos, a spaceship, sleek and gleaming, descended onto the moon's surface. Its hatch opened, and a grand magus, draped in regalia that marked his high status, emerged. His voice, commanding and echoing with authority, rang out,
"Cease this conflict, at once!"
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Author Note:
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