Bab 10: Chapter 9: The First Rebellion—The War That Shook Creation and Echoes Through Eternity (Part 2)
While Sarnel confronted Zarnasel, and Gabriel continued his fierce battle against Beelzebub and Astral, a deadly confrontation unfolded in another part of the celestial realm—within one of the ten great archangel castles. The focus now shifted to the fierce struggle between Cassiel, the Great Archangel of Time, and his two formidable adversaries: Azriel and Baal.
Cassiel's stronghold, the Castle of Time, stood as one of the grandest citadels in the Heavenly Existence. Infused with the essence of time and speed, its vast, almost infinite internal spaces resembled a sprawling, majestic realm. This castle, a masterpiece of divine architecture, served as a bastion of might and wisdom, its seemingly endless corridors and colossal outer structure evoking awe. Each of the ten great castles, ruled by one of the Great Archangels, was a realm unto itself, yet none could rival the infinite palace of God.
Within this grand citadel, Cassiel served as its Main Ruler and Leader, now facing two of the most powerful enemies of Heavenly Existence—Azriel and Baal. While these ten castles had their rulers, such as Cassiel in the Castle of Time, all Great Archangels were also considered Princes of Heaven, standing just beneath God. Ultimately, it was God alone who reigned with Absolute authority, His palace infinitely larger and more glorious than any other.
The air crackled with tension as Baal, one of the highest princes of darkness, unleashed a devastating assault. His strikes, charged with dark energy, reverberated through the very foundations of Cassiel's castle.
In his true form, Baal towered at approximately 6'4", his appearance masking the formidable power he wielded—his age seemed to be in his early 30s. With a tall, imposing figure and a perfectly proportioned muscular build, he showcased his physique beneath ornate, dark armor that fit snugly against his body. This armor, crafted in deep shades of black and purple, was adorned with intricate silver patterns that shimmered ominously. His flawless skin bore a subtle golden sheen, creating a striking contrast against the surrounding darkness.
Baal's eyes glowed bright and intelligent, a vivid amber that sparkled with hidden malice. As he clashed with Cassiel, six majestic wings unfurled from his back—wings that were black with hints of iridescent purple, their frayed tips betraying the signs of corruption, a testament to his dark power and dominion.
Beside Baal stood the equally menacing Azriel, the High Prince of Darkness. Azriel's true form was nothing short of terrifying—a figure of dark majesty. His purple glowing eyes, marked by snake-like pupils, radiated malevolence, while his long white hair lent him an air of rebellion and danger. Six deformed, fiery wings adorned his back, flickering in shades of purple and red, while demonic eyes swirled around him in black and silver, casting an eerie glow. He stood at 5'10", with pale skin and the youthful appearance of a 17-year-old, clad in black leather robes that featured an almost black jacket over a white shirt, paired with dark jeans and boots. In his grasp, Azriel wielded the Chaos Void Sword, a Transcendent Grade weapon capable of bending space and time—an ideal match for the battlefield of Cassiel's Castle.
The clash between these powerful forces sent tremors through the very walls of the castle. Each strike from Baal's and Azriel's weapons threatened to distort the flow of time within the citadel. Baal, drawing upon his immense power, aimed to dismantle Cassiel's defenses, while Azriel deftly manipulated the battlefield, using his Chaos Void Sword to alter the very fabric of reality.
Yet Cassiel, ever vigilant and strategic, met their onslaught with divine skill. His mastery over time allowed him to anticipate attacks before they landed, enabling him to evade and counter with remarkable precision. He moved with a swiftness that surpassed even those who could traverse time itself, embodying the essence of speed and agility. In a dazzling burst of energy, his true form emerged, radiating divine might, as his wings shimmered with the radiant power of time itself.
As Baal and Azriel unleashed their true forms, the battle escalated to an intense fever pitch. The three angels clashed with such ferocity that the very air around them seemed to warp and tremble. This was no ordinary skirmish; it was a monumental confrontation between the forces of Heaven and the deepest abysses of darkness, unfolding within one of Heaven's most sacred strongholds.
The sheer magnitude of power unleashed threatened to tear apart the fabric of Cassiel's domain. Ripples of energy spread like shockwaves through the infinite corridors of the castle. Within and outside the grand structure, Cassiel's forces clashed against Baal's and Azriel's minions, the resonating echoes of light battling darkness reverberating through the vast expanse of the Castle of Time—a battlefield that would ultimately determine the fate of Heaven itself.
Amidst the chaos, Cassiel summoned his Transcendent Grade weapon, Elysian Whispers, ready to confront the overwhelming might of his adversaries. Two long, slender daggers materialized in his hands, each approximately two feet in length. The blades shimmered with an ethereal glow, engraved with intricate, shifting patterns that captured the light and whispered tales of the cosmos. The hilts were wrapped in black leather, and as Cassiel moved, the daggers emitted a soft, whispering sound, as if carrying the ancient secrets of creation itself.
Seizing the moment, Azriel—ever the opportunist—sprang into action. His glowing purple eyes flared as he invoked one of his Evil God Skills—Heart of the Abyss Lev Ha'Sheol. Channeling the dark energies of the Abyss, Azriel manipulated the surrounding shadows, summoning terrifying constructs, weapons, and creatures born from pure voids. These manifestations, impervious to physical attacks, drifted forth like a menacing tide, each capable of draining the life force from any unfortunate soul caught in their grasp.
As the castle darkened under the weight of these shadowy figures, they surged toward Cassiel—a chilling wave of void-born death. Yet, with his unmatched reflexes and extraordinary speed, Cassiel dodged their assault effortlessly. He moved as if time itself yielded to him, his form blurring across the battlefield faster than either Azriel or Baal could track.
Baal, clad in ornate dark armor that glimmered with malice, lunged forward with terrifying swiftness. The ground cracked beneath him from the force of his charge. Just as his blade was about to meet Cassiel, time itself rippled around the Great Archangel. Cassiel vanished in a blur, reappearing behind Baal, his movements imbued with a speed that seemed almost otherworldly. Yet Baal was quick to recover, turning with remarkable agility for a being of his size, nearly matching Cassiel's pace.
Azriel, no less swift, was upon Cassiel in an instant, swinging his Chaos Void Sword in a lethal arc. Their combined assaults forced Cassiel to navigate the battlefield with unparalleled precision, dodging and weaving through their strikes, but only just. Though he held an edge in speed, the margin between them was razor-thin.
"You cannot touch me," Cassiel stated, his voice calm yet laced with steely determination. "But you are closer than most."
Azriel's eyes glimmered with malevolent satisfaction. "We shall see how long that lasts, Cassiel. The speed of a transcending spirit is not something you can outrun indefinitely."
Despite their nearly equal swiftness, Cassiel's mastery over time granted him the foresight to predict and counter their movements. Yet, even for him, this battle was extraordinary—Baal and Azriel, as Transcending Spirits, were among the swiftest beings in creation, capable of keeping pace with the Great Archangel.
Even as the clash raged on, injuries began to accumulate on all sides. Cassiel felt the creeping sting of fatigue, the relentless assaults taking a toll on his divine endurance. While he had successfully evaded most attacks, the ferocity of his enemies was unyielding. Azriel and Baal bore their injuries, dark marks of the fierce combat etched into their forms.
In a moment of intense focus, Baal attempted a sneak attack from the future. Anticipating Cassiel's movements, he unleashed a secret invisible cutting technique designed to bypass the Great Archangel's defenses. As Cassiel dodged, time itself rippled around him, and the unseen blade found its mark. A searing pain erupted in his side, the strike leaving a deep gash—the most significant injury he had sustained thus far. Cassiel staggered slightly, the blood from the wound starkly contrasting against his ethereal appearance.
Baal's grin widened, his shimmering armor reflecting the flickering lights of battle. "I knew you'd dodge—so I changed the rules."
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Cassiel forced himself to regain his composure. He couldn't allow this injury to deter him; he had to keep fighting. "You may have landed a hit, but it won't stop me."
Seizing the opportunity created by Baal's attack, Azriel launched a renewed offensive. The shadowy constructs surged toward Cassiel once more, but this time, the Great Archangel was slightly slower—the wound affecting his speed. Though he fought through the pain, deflecting blows and evading the grasping tendrils of darkness, he could feel the tide turning against him.
At that moment of desperation, Cassiel made a pivotal decision that would alter the course of the battle. Until now, he had held back the full power of his true form, carefully measuring the capabilities of his foes. But as the shadows closed in around him and the weight of his injuries pressed down, he chose to unleash it. A radiant energy surged through him, igniting a brilliant glow that illuminated the castle's darkest corners.
With fierce determination, Cassiel felt his speed increase to its absolute peak, transforming him into a blur of divine energy. He moved with newfound ferocity, each step resonating with the echoes of divine might. The whispers of Elysian Whispers intensified, harmonizing with the radiant energy emanating from him. The blades became a blur in his hands, slicing through the shadowy constructs as if they were mere illusions. Azriel and Baal struggled to keep up with his breathtaking velocity, their movements barely keeping pace with his newfound power.
So overwhelming was Cassiel's speed that the very ground beneath him—woven from the fabric of time itself—shattered with each movement. The surrounding space warped, and reality itself seemed to bend in response to his might, revealing just how far beyond the concept of time he had transcended.
However, even with his true speed unleashed, Baal and Azriel remained formidable opponents. Though momentarily taken aback by Cassiel's sudden surge of power, they swiftly adapted their strategies, channeling their dark skills to counter his newfound velocity. Azriel cloaked himself in shadows, enhancing his speed and agility, while Baal employed temporal manipulations to shift the dynamics of the battlefield, making their attacks increasingly unpredictable.
"We can still keep up!" Baal shouted, determination igniting in his voice. "Your speed may be impressive, but we're just getting started!"
As the battle raged on, Cassiel realized he faced not just brute force but cunning intellect as well. With each move, his adversaries adapted, finding ways to exploit even the slightest openings in his defenses. Yet, Cassiel's resolve only strengthened as he moved with grace and purpose, embodying the very essence of time itself against the encroaching darkness. Though the injuries he bore were severe, he began to heal them instantly, even as Azriel's and Baal's abilities delayed his regeneration and healing skills.
As the conflict unfolded, Cassiel vowed to emerge victorious, drawing on every ounce of strength and speed he could muster.
As the battle raged on, Cassiel, despite having previously held an edge in speed, now felt the weight of his injuries from Baal's secret technique—a concealed, invisible cutting strike that had bypassed his defenses. Though wounded, the Great Archangel's resolve hardened into an unyielding determination. With Baal and Azriel launching relentless assaults, he knew it was time to unleash his true power.
Invoking his God skill, Master of Temporal Mahirut, Cassiel ascended to a divine level of control over time and velocity. The surrounding air crackled with raw energy as he tapped into this ability, warping the very fabric of time itself. It was as if the laws of existence bent to his will, reshaping the battlefield into a canvas of his dominion.
With a flicker of his will, Cassiel activated Chrono-Lock, freezing time across all planes of existence. Baal and Azriel, despite their immense power and innate resistance to time manipulation, found themselves ensnared in stasis, utterly unable to move or act. Even their transcendent abilities were no match for the raw force of Cassiel's temporal dominion. In this timeless expanse, Cassiel moved effortlessly, launching a barrage of time-distorted attacks. He struck from different points in time—past, present, and future—delivering devastating blows that shattered Baal's armor and cut deep into Azriel's defenses. Each strike resonated with the weight of time itself, leaving lasting damage as if the very essence of existence had turned against them.
However, Baal and Azriel were not easily defeated. Channeling their dark powers, they fought against the stasis that bound them. Baal summoned a surge of primal lightning, while Azriel harnessed his chaos magic to manipulate the cracks in reality that Cassiel's time strikes had created. With a combined effort, they managed to disrupt the Chrono-Lock, shattering the time prison and regaining their mobility. Though bloodied and injured, their expressions were fierce, burning with renewed determination. Both beings bore the marks of Cassiel's relentless onslaught, but their resolve was stronger than ever.
Undeterred, Cassiel immediately shifted tactics. He activated Time Shatter, one of the most devastating abilities within Master of Temporal Mahirut. In a localized area around Baal and Azriel, the flow of time fractured, creating paradoxes and anomalies. Portions of the battlefield froze in place, while others decayed rapidly, eroding into dust. The surrounding castle began to crumble as time itself imploded. Baal and Azriel found themselves caught in this storm of temporal chaos, their movements slowed and their regeneration hindered. Wounds that should have healed instantly were delayed to the very essence of their beings struggling against the warped reality. As time turned against them, the damage they sustained deepened, and their powerful forms, capable of withstanding unimaginable pain, faltered under the weight of temporal anomalies.
Despite the overwhelming effects of Time Shatter, Baal and Azriel rallied once more. Baal, his body radiating primal energy, synchronized his lightning with the fractured flow of time, allowing him to move more effectively amid the temporal storm. Azriel, ever the tactician, tapped into his chaos magic, finding stability within the paradoxes by warping reality to his advantage. Together, they pushed through the onslaught of time, their shock tempered by a newfound resolve. Cassiel's power was beyond anything they had anticipated, and yet, they sensed that this was not even the full extent of his abilities. They realized that the Great Archangel had not yet unleashed his true God skills; what they faced now was merely his raw speed and manipulation of time.
Hovering above the battlefield, Cassiel observed their struggle with calm focus. His divine aura shimmered, bending the realm itself beneath his command. Though Baal and Azriel had managed to keep pace, their resilience only delayed the inevitable. For the first time, they comprehended the vast gulf in power that separated them from the Great Archangel of Speed and Time. Even while holding back, Cassiel's mastery over time loomed nearly insurmountable.
As Baal gathered his strength, he felt the storm energy coiling around him, ready to unleash a devastating attack. With a ferocious roar, he invoked his Evil God skill: Deity of Idolatry Avodah, channeling the fury of the storm into a cataclysmic strike. Cataclysmic Convergence erupted from him, a swirling vortex of dark energy that ripped through the air, devastating everything in its path. The sheer force of the blast inflicted immense damage, and the corruptive essence of the attack threatened to turn anything caught within its radius into vessels of idolatry.
Momentarily stunned by the magnitude of Baal's power, Azriel quickly regained his composure and prepared to combine his dark magic with Baal's onslaught, knowing that together they could amplify the chaos unleashed.
But as the storm raged, Cassiel remained unfazed. He activated his temporal abilities, manipulating time around him to counter the cataclysm. The air crackled with energy as he moved with incredible speed, weaving through the chaos unleashed by Baal's attack. Time distorted in his favor, allowing him to emerge from the onslaught relatively unscathed.
Though the battlefield was engulfed in turmoil, Cassiel's focus remained unwavering, his resolve unbroken. He had only just begun to reveal the true extent of his divine powers. What lay ahead was a confrontation that would echo throughout the realms—a clash of titanic forces were only one would emerge victorious.
As chaos unfolded on the battlefield between Cassiel, Baal, and Azriel, the scene shifted to a different clash of titanic forces. In the heart of a desolate landscape, Lucifer and Michael faced each other, the air thick with tension and malice. Their very presence radiated opposing energies, creating a stark contrast of light and darkness.
Michael stood tall, his wings unfurled like a divine banner against the encroaching shadows. With unwavering resolve, he activated his God skill: Sovereign of Radiance - Melech Zohar. The sky above them darkened momentarily, only to be pierced by a brilliant light as he summoned a Beacon of Hope. A pillar of divine radiance descended from the heavens, illuminating the battlefield in a resplendent glow. The beacon expanded, purging darkness within its vast radius. Enemies caught in this divine illumination suffered immense damage and were temporarily blinded, while Michael himself basked in the invigorating warmth of the light, revitalizing him and bolstering his power.
However, Lucifer was no ordinary adversary. The blinding light struck him, leaving burns upon his pale skin, yet he was quick to retaliate. Channeling his dark energy, he unleashed his Evil God Skill: Ruler of the Abyss Tehom. This skill embodied the pure essence of darkness and evil, granting him the ability to absorb light and divine energy. As the beacon of hope illuminated the ground, Lucifer activated Void Resonance, conjuring a barrier of pure darkness that surged around him. The dark shield absorbed much of the divine energy, diminishing the impact of Michael's attack.
The ground trembled as the two opposing forces collided, creating a shockwave that rippled through the air. Lucifer felt the sting of Michael's light, yet his defenses held firm. The energy absorbed by his barrier swirled around him, enhancing his strength and feeding off the despair radiating from the battlefield. With a sinister smile, he stepped forward, dark power crackling around him, emboldened by the corruption that flowed from the remnants of Michael's assault.
The two Great Archangels locked eyes, determination etched on their faces. Michael, invigorated by the light, surged forward, wielding his blade of radiance and striking with righteous fury. Each swing illuminated the area, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. But Lucifer met his strikes with equal ferocity, his attacks fueled by the despair and suffering he embodied. Their clash sent arcs of light and shadow spiraling into the air, illuminating the dark sky with a cosmic ballet of power.
As the battle raged, Lucifer's sinister laughter echoed—a haunting melody against Michael's unwavering resolve. "You may wield the light, but I am the darkness that consumes it," he taunted, drawing upon the shadows that surrounded them.
In a moment of fierce concentration, Michael summoned another wave of divine energy, aiming to purge the darkness once and for all. The ground beneath them quaked as he prepared to unleash another Beacon of Hope, hoping to shatter Lucifer's defenses. But Lucifer, empowered by the darkness, countered with his sinister technique, creating tendrils of shadow that snaked toward Michael, seeking to ensnare him and pull him into the depths of despair.
The battlefield crackled with the tension of their opposing forces, each Archangel embodying the ultimate struggle between light and darkness. What began as a duel of strength evolved into a test of wills, each seeking to outmaneuver the other in a contest that would determine the fate of countless souls caught in their celestial conflict.
As Michael and Lucifer continued their fierce confrontation, their powers soared to extraordinary levels, showcasing their near-omnipotence in a way that reshaped the very fabric of reality around them. Each movement resonated with the weight of their divine legacies, and as they clashed, the ground beneath them splintered under the force of their abilities, marking the battlefield as a testament to their cosmic struggle.
Both Great Archangels exhibited mastery of movement and presence, making it seem as though they existed everywhere at once. Michael's Sovereign of Radiance - Melech Zohar granted him the ability to manifest multiple instances of himself, each appearing in different locations across the battlefield. These radiant copies flitted in and out of existence, launching simultaneous strikes against Lucifer from various angles, overwhelming the dark lord with a relentless barrage of light. Each strike resonated with the hope and strength of the heavenly beings, creating ripples of energy that echoed through the capital, enveloping the entire realm in Michael's divine essence.
Conversely, Lucifer, as the Ruler of the Abyss Tehom, absorbed shadows and darkness from the very ground beneath them. He manipulated his surroundings to conjure illusions of himself, each casting a menacing presence that disrupted Michael's focus. The darkness allowed him to appear at different points within the same moment, creating a chaotic battlefield that distorted perception. Each illusion acted with intent, striking at Michael from unexpected angles while absorbing any light directed toward them, making it increasingly difficult for Michael to pinpoint Lucifer's true location.
The sheer force of their abilities bore witness to their near-omnipotence, each strike echoing through the fabric of existence itself. As they clashed, the air shimmered with raw power, and the very laws of nature seemed to bend under their might. Michael unleashed his Beacon of Hope, a pillar of divine light that descended from the heavens like a comet, igniting the very essence of creation. It revitalized everything in its embrace, turning the battlefield into a sanctuary of luminescence. Celestial light surged forth, purging the darkness that clung to the land, healing the wounds of the earth, and invigorating the spirits of the heavenly beings watching from afar. Each ripple of energy radiated hope, countering Lucifer's relentless attempts to envelop the realm in shadow.
Yet Lucifer was far from defenseless. With cunning precision, he retaliated using his Void Resonance, conjuring barriers that absorbed and transformed Michael's radiant energy into dark power. Each time he blocked an attack, his strength surged, feeding off the very light meant to vanquish him. The dark energy swirled around him like a tempest, warping reality itself and creating fluctuations in time and space that amplified the devastation of his counterstrikes. Each blow carried an oppressive weight, resonating through the capital and instilling a palpable fear even among the most valiant of heavenly beings.
The duel unfolded with an intricate dance of strategy, each combatant reflecting a near-omniscient understanding of the battlefield. Michael, deeply connected to the hopes of all heavenly beings, seemed to predict Lucifer's every move with uncanny accuracy. His awareness transcended mere combat; he sensed the hidden currents of despair fueling Lucifer's darkness, using this insight to exploit the weaknesses in his opponent's defenses. Every swing of his sword was deliberate and calculated, crafted not only to inflict damage but also to uplift and inspire those around him, channeling the hopes of his allies into every strike.
Conversely, Lucifer, embodying the essence of darkness, tapped into the fear and doubt permeating the battlefield. He instinctively understood the emotional landscape surrounding him, manipulating it to his advantage. With each parry and thrust, he wove a web of despair that sought to cloud Michael's mind, momentarily unsettling his focus. This psychological warfare gave Lucifer the openings he needed, allowing him to unleash counterattacks that struck deep into the heart of light.
As the two forces collided, their combat became a spectacle of light and shadow, a vivid representation of the eternal struggle that defined their existence. Each moment was a test of will, a clash that would determine the fate of not just themselves, but the very realms they represented. Michael's unwavering focus allowed him to predict Lucifer's maneuvers, but the embodiment of darkness was cunning, expertly instilling doubt and uncertainty in his opponent's mind. This psychological warfare granted Lucifer opportunities to strike, targeting Michael's vulnerabilities in fleeting moments of distraction or fatigue.
In the heat of their duel, the lines between weapon and wielder blurred, creating a singular, unstoppable force. Michael's strikes not only aimed to defend against Lucifer's encroaching darkness but also to purify the very air around them. Waves of radiant energy surged forth from the Ignis Seraphicus with each cut, each movement a precise testament to his resolve to cleanse the corruption threatening to engulf his realm.
Lucifer matched Michael's intensity with an equally awe-inspiring ferocity. The Umbra Maledictus responded seamlessly to his every command, its wicked form twisting and turning to evade and parry Michael's relentless strikes. When Lucifer counterattacked, it felt as if the very essence of darkness coalesced into a single, devastating blow, capable of obliterating anything in its path. The ground beneath them fractured and splintered under the force of their clash, the remnants of their battle echoing through the celestial expanse.
As their weapons collided, each strike sent ripples through the very fabric of time and space, warping reality itself. The air shimmered with the electric tension of their divine conflict, thick with anticipation. The onlookers—celestial beings and angels alike—could feel the weight of their power, grasping that this was more than just a battle; it was a pivotal moment in the eternal struggle between light and dark, creation and destruction.
In this clash, Michael and Lucifer were not merely warriors; they were the embodiment of their respective realms. Their mastery over their weapons transformed the battlefield into a theater of cosmic warfare, where every movement carried the potential to shift the balance of existence. It was a grand display of divine mastery, a confrontation that would resonate through the ages, forever etched in the annals of their shared history.
As the battle raged on within the capital of the heavenly existences, Michael found himself increasingly overwhelmed by Lucifer's unrelenting assault. The fallen Morning Star wielded his scythe with terrifying precision, unleashing wave after wave of dark, malevolent power that tore through the great archangel's defenses. What was once a brilliant battlefield—a sanctuary of divine light—had been shrouded in the oppressive shadows cast by Lucifer. With every brutal blow, Michael's strength waned, the weight of Lucifer's evil god skills pressing down on him, testing his resolve and threatening to extinguish the divine light that flickered within.
Lucifer's attacks were merciless, his mastery over the dark arts granting him a vast arsenal of wicked abilities. Shadows and chaos coiled around him, and with every fluid motion, he unleashed tendrils of dark energy that writhed toward Michael, eager to consume him. The great archangel fought valiantly against the relentless tide of Lucifer's malevolence, each strike aimed not just at breaking him physically, but at shattering his spirit. The air crackled with dark energy, a stark testament to Lucifer's dominance, leaving Michael struggling desperately to keep the encroaching shadows at bay.
In a particularly savage display, Lucifer twisted the very fabric of reality, creating a rift that warped the space around Michael. This distortion forced the archangel to confront his deepest fears, as shadowy tendrils clawed at his wings and armor, striving to tear away the hope that sustained him. With a devastating slash from his scythe, Lucifer unleashed a wave of dark energy that crashed into Michael's chest, sending him careening backward with immense force. The ground trembled and cracked beneath them, echoing the fury of Lucifer's evil god skills. Michael landed near the sacred grounds of God's palace, a deep wound cut across his chest, the darkness gnawing at his divine essence.
Lucifer's twisted grin spread as he towered over his fallen brother, reveling in his apparent victory. "Look how far you've fallen, Michael. The mighty Great Archangel brought low by my power," he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt.
Gasping for breath and bleeding divine light, Michael struggled to rise. Yet the toll from Lucifer's unholy onslaught was severe; his body weakened, his spirit teetering on the brink. Lucifer continued his barrage, summoning storms of corrupted energy that surged through the air, lightning bolts striking with blinding intensity, leaving Michael breathless and fighting to stand.
Finally, Michael was forced to retreat, finding himself near the Throne of God, wounded and desperate. In his arrogance, Lucifer's eyes gleamed with triumph as he turned his malevolent gaze toward the Father. He sought to do the unthinkable—to strike at God Himself. Summoning the full force of his dark powers, Lucifer hurled his malevolent energy toward the Throne and his Father and Creator. The ground shook violently as his evil god skills spiraled forth, a cataclysmic assault aimed directly at the divine, echoing through the heavens with a promise of chaos. But God did not stir. The Father, the Omnipotent One, required no shield or defense against Lucifer's impending onslaught. In a heartbeat, the darkness unleashed by Lucifer was engulfed by a blinding radiance, vanishing like mist before the dawn. With a mere thought, God exerted His will, and Lucifer's form was violently wrenched from the divine Throne's presence, flung across the expanse of the Throne room and beyond, deep into the very essence of the Throne of God.
The blast of omnipotent power hurled Lucifer across the opulent halls of God's palace, away from the throne room, tearing through his dark form with merciless force. The sheer might of the Almighty will leave gaping wounds in his flesh, each one searing with divine light. Lucifer's body screamed as he spiraled through the air, crashing violently into the celestial walls, causing the ground to tremble and splinter beneath him. Writhing in agony, his regenerative powers struggled to mend the wounds inflicted by the divine. Though his body began to heal, the pain of God's omnipotence burned deep within him, leaving scars that would not fade easily.
Meanwhile, Michael lay near the Throne of God, battered and broken. Yet in His infinite mercy, God reached out with boundless power, and in an instant, Michael's wounds were healed, his strength fully restored. Divine light surged through his being, erasing the pain and fatigue of battle as if the injuries had never existed. Michael rose to his feet, aglow with the Father's grace, revitalized and resolute.
Then, the voice of God resounded, clear and powerful, reverberating through the very fabric of creation. "Michael, wake up. Fight seriously, in your true form, at full power."
The words ignited a fierce fire within Michael's soul. He felt the Father's power coursing through him, more intensely than ever before. With newfound strength and purpose, Michael fully transformed into his true form. His wings unfurled behind him, shining brighter than the sun itself, illuminating the heavens with their brilliance. His body radiated divine light, an unstoppable force of righteousness, fueled by God's infinite will.
Empowered by the Father's grace, Michael charged forward without hesitation. His strikes now infused with the full might of the Heavens, each blow pushed the dark lord further from the sacred grounds of God's palace. Their battle shook the capital as light and darkness collided, the very air crackling with raw energy. Lucifer, once brimming with confidence, found himself momentarily on the defensive, his eyes narrowing in fury as he sensed the power shift.
Enraged by Michael's resurgence, Lucifer let out a primal roar. Malevolent energy surged through him as he prepared for his ultimate transformation. Channeling every ounce of his hatred and desperation, Lucifer's form began to shift, growing larger and more fearsome with each passing moment. His skin darkened to a deep crimson, and his wings expanded into massive, tattered appendages as he transformed into his most formidable form—the Red Dragon.
Now standing as a monstrous embodiment of chaos and fury, Lucifer's strength eclipsed anything he had wielded before. With his transformation complete, he braced himself for the final clash with Michael, their epic confrontation destined to determine the very fate of the heavens.
As the air crackled with tension, Michael, the Great Archangel, faced Lucifer, now transformed into the Red Dragon, a being of pure fire and wrath. The surrounding battlefield quaked, an otherworldly resonance echoing the intensity of their conflict. The once vibrant expanse of Heaven darkened under the shadow of the monstrous figure, whose seven fierce heads, crowned with molten gold, glared down with insatiable hunger for chaos.
In this moment of dread, Michael felt the weight of Heaven's hope resting on his shoulders. He stood tall, his wings unfurled behind him, shining brighter than the sun itself, illuminating the encroaching darkness. The divine light radiating from his form pushed against the shadows, a beacon of righteousness in the face of despair.
Lucifer, the Red Dragon, unleashed a roar that shook the very foundations of reality. The sound resonated with a terrifying might, signaling the beginning of a cataclysmic clash. With a sweeping motion of his massive wings, he summoned a tempest that sent waves of searing heat crashing against Michael, testing the Great Archangel's resolve.
Michael met the onslaught head-on, fueled by the divine light coursing through him. "You may have transformed, but you will not extinguish the light of Heaven!" he declared, charging forward, each strike imbued with the full might of the Heavens.
As the two titans clashed, the heavens erupted in a storm of light and darkness. Michael's radiant sword met the searing claws of the Red Dragon, sparks flying as the forces collided. Each blow reverberated through the celestial realms, echoing the eternal struggle between light and dark.
But Lucifer, now fully embodying the chaos of his new form, retaliated with fury. He lashed out with a swipe of his powerful tail, creating a shockwave that sent Michael staggering backward. "Feel the fury of the abyss!" he bellowed, his voice a thunderous roar that sent tremors through the air.
Lucifer inhaled deeply, summoning a swirling vortex of flames that coiled around him, radiating with fierce brilliance. With a roar, he unleashed a torrent of infernal fire, a devastating wave aimed directly at Michael. The flames roared like a dragon's breath, seeking to engulf the Great Archangel.
Yet, Michael, resolute and unyielding, summoned the divine light within him. "I will not falter!" he shouted, raising his sword high. The blade shimmered with radiant energy as he sliced through the flames, creating a blinding barrier of light that momentarily pushed back the inferno.
The explosion of light illuminated the battlefield, revealing the fierce determination etched across Michael's face. He charged through the smoke and fire, darting to the side to evade Lucifer's sweeping tail, which carved a deep trench into the ground where he had just stood.
With unparalleled agility, Michael ascended into the sky, using his wings to gain altitude. He looked down at Lucifer, who was now seething with rage, his seven heads twisting and snapping in search of their target. "You're nothing but a shadow of your former self, Lucifer!" Michael called out, his voice echoing with conviction.
Lucifer's eyes burned with fury, and he unfurled his colossal wings, launching himself into the air in pursuit of the Great Archangel. "I will show you the true meaning of despair!" he roared, his breath a hellish flame as he took to the skies, the battle escalating to new heights.
As they clashed mid-air, Michael executed a series of rapid, precise strikes, each one aimed at severing the dark energy that pulsed within Lucifer's monstrous form. The radiant sword glowed brightly, leaving trails of light in its wake as it met the hard, scaly skin of the Red Dragon. Each impact sent ripples of energy coursing through the air.
But Lucifer countered with ferocity. His multiple heads lunged at Michael, snapping and clawing, seeking to overwhelm him. With a flick of his tail, he summoned a gale-force wind that threatened to knock Michael off balance. "You are nothing compared to the darkness I now command!" Lucifer snarled, channeling the very essence of chaos.
Michael dove and rolled, narrowly avoiding the onslaught of razor-sharp claws that swiped through the air where he had been just moments before. He surged upward, gathering energy for a concentrated strike. "For every soul you've corrupted, I will stand against you!" he declared, gathering his strength.
In one decisive moment, Michael gathered the divine light within him, transforming it into a brilliant spear of energy. He hurled it at the Red Dragon with all his might, a radiant projectile aimed straight for Lucifer's heart. "By the grace of God, I strike!"
The spear of light pierced through the air, striking the Red Dragon squarely in the chest. The impact created a massive explosion of light, illuminating the heavens and sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. Lucifer recoiled, his heads roaring in pain as the light seared into his very being.
But the Red Dragon was far from defeated. Enraged, he retaliated, summoning a vortex of flames that spiraled around him, a protective barrier of fire that shielded him from further assaults. "You think your light can defeat me?" Lucifer roared, fury in every word. "I will consume all!"
With a dark flourish, Lucifer activated his evil god skill: Hellfire Bastion Magen. A swirling shield of intense flames enveloped him, creating a dark fortress of protection that absorbed incoming attacks. This sinister defense not only shielded him but also transformed the energy of each strike into a vengeful force. Once activated, the shield morphed the absorbed power into countless fiery threads that spun in a 360-degree radius around him, unleashing an infinite barrage of explosive fire blasts at his enemies. Each blast erupted with devastating intensity, turning the very essence of the assault against the attacker. The Hebrew word Magen, meaning "shield," underscored the nefarious intent of this skill, embodying both unyielding defense and ruthless retribution.
With that declaration, the true war in Heaven was fully unleashed, the skies darkening as the clash of light and darkness raged on. The fate of the celestial realms hung in the balance, as Michael and Lucifer prepared for the next round of their epic confrontation, both knowing that this battle was only just beginning.
— Bab baru akan segera rilis — Tulis ulasan
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