The moment Commander Vorlag's transformation was complete, the entire dynamic of the battle shifted. Commander Lysander, who a moment ago had stood as an equal, now found himself facing a being of vastly superior power. The demonic aura washing over him was a physical force, a corrupting tide that sought to erode his own righteous, sun-filled spiritual energy.
All below them, the chaotic battles of the lesser cultivators continued, but here, in the center of the cavern, a bubble of terrifying silence had formed around the two leaders, a pocket of reality where their conflict would decide the fate of everyone present.
Lysander knew he could not retreat. He was a Commander of the Forest of the Radiant Dawn; his duty was to stand against this filth, regardless of the odds. Gritting his teeth, his face a mask of grim determination, he decided to stake everything on a single, decisive blow.
He raised his hand to the sky, and his own martial spirit, a magnificent Sunfire Hawk, materialized above him. It was a creature of pure, condensed light and flame, and it let out a piercing cry that momentarily cut through the demonic oppression, a sound of pure, unyielding defiance.
"Fall before the Dawn!" Lysander roared, pouring every last ounce of his spiritual energy into his spirit. "Sunfall Strike!"
The Sunfire Hawk blazed with an impossible, blinding brilliance, becoming a miniature sun in the dark cavern. It folded its wings and dove, a living meteor of righteous fire aimed directly at the hulking, monstrous form of Vorlag.
The air itself seemed to ignite in its path, the attack carrying the full, uncompromising weight of a Soul Formation expert's will. It was the strongest technique in his arsenal, a blow capable of beating those with a stronger cultivation than himself. To the soldiers on the ground, it looked as though a star was falling from the sky, a beautiful and terrifying harbinger of absolute destruction.
Vorlag looked up at the descending sun, a contemptuous, mocking grin spreading across his grotesque face. He made no move to dodge. Instead, he simply raised one massive hand, wreathed in a sickly green-red demonic energy.
He met the attack head-on, catching the Sunfire Hawk, like catching a ball. The impact was immense, a silent explosion of light and shadow, but Vorlag's body barely moved. His massive hand had closed around the blazing form of the martial spirit, holding it fast.
"Is this the power of your vaunted Order?" Vorlag's voice was a low, guttural growl. "Pathetic." With a final, contemptuous grunt, he squeezed. The Sunfire Hawk shattered like a glass sculpture. The destruction of his martial spirit sent a devastating backlash through Lysander's body; he felt his energy tremble, his core and soul shook.
But he was not defeated. Roaring through the pain, his soul screaming from the violation, Lysander's aura flared once more with defiant light. "You will not defile this world!" he bellowed, launching a new attack, refusing to yield. "Chains of Dawn!"
Whips of pure, golden solar energy erupted from his palms, lashing through the air with the sound of cracking thunder, seeking to bind Vorlag's limbs and sear his corrupted flesh. This technique wasn't just physical; it was designed to purify, to burn away demonic energy on contact.
Vorlag laughed, a horrid, grating sound, as the chains of light wrapped around his monstrous arms and torso, sizzling against his green-red skin and producing a foul-smelling smoke. For a moment, the chains held, and the Radiant Dawn disciples below let out a hopeful cheer.
But the hope was short-lived. "Nuisance!" Vorlag roared, and with a single flex of his unnatural muscles, the chains shattered into motes of fading light. Before Lysander could even register the failure of his technique, Vorlag charged, his massive body crossing the distance in an instant. He swung a fist wreathed in the same green-red energy, a blow meant not just to injure, but to annihilate.
Lysander, weakened and still reeling from the backlash, barely had time to raise his sword in a desperate, two-handed block. The blow connected but in that moment another energy appeared to help block the blow, absorbing a good amount of it.
The enchanted steel of his blade, a high-grade spiritual artifact, screamed and bent at an impossible angle under the immense force even with the help. A spiderweb of cracks spread across its surface before it exploded into a thousand shards. The demonic power, barely impeded, slammed into Lysander's body, blasting him out of the sky.
He fell like a stone, crashing into the hard rock floor of the valley with a sickening, ground-shaking impact. He lay unmoving in the center of a newly formed crater, his armor shattered, his body bleeding but overall he was still alive and okay, wisps of green-red energy coiling around his wounds, actively preventing them from healing.
The Radiant Dawn disciples below watched in stunned, horrified silence. Their commander, their blazing beacon of hope, a powerful Soul Formation expert, had been defeated so easily, so brutally. A wave of heart-stopping despair washed over their ranks, and their fighting faltered.
A young swordswoman, who had been fighting with righteous fury moments before, froze, her eyes wide with terror as she watched her leader fall. The hesitation was all her Hegemony opponent needed, and a dark blade pierced her guard, ending her life. Her fall was a symbol of the crumbling morale of the entire Radiant Dawn force.
In stark contrast, a savage, triumphant roar erupted from the cultists of the Midnight Infernal Hegemony. They looked upon Vorlag's monstrous form not with fear, but with zealous, fanatical worship. This was the power their path promised.
This was true strength. A Hegemony brute, his face spattered with blood, turned to his cowering foe and grinned. "See? Our Commander is a god! Your Dawn is a flickering candle, and the Abyss is coming to snuff it out!"
Bolstered by their commander's overwhelming victory, their attacks became more ferocious, more reckless, and they began to push the demoralized Radiant Dawn forces back, a wave of black and red crashing against a collapsing wall of green and gold.
On the high ledge, Li Yu's spiritual energy began to gather instinctively. But before he could move, Cyra's hand shot out, her grip firm on his arm. "Not yet," she whispered, her eyes wide but focused. "He is their leader. Watch. Learn. We still don't know everything."
Just as she spoke, a new power descended upon the valley. It was an aura far greater than anything he had felt before, stronger even than Jian Xuan's. It was ancient, deep, and vast, like a primeval forest or a bottomless ocean. It was a power that felt less like an individual and more like a law of nature, reasserting itself against the demonic corruption.
From the largest, central warship of the Radiant Dawn, a figure slowly flew out. It was an old man, his face a roadmap of wrinkles, but his back was straight and unyielding, his posture that of a lifelong warrior. He wore simple, unadorned green robes, and his long, white hair was tied back in a simple knot.
This was an expert at the 6th stage of the Soul Formation realm. He had been the one to help the commander at the last second. He was supposed to stay hidden until all the trump cards were out but he had to act early now.
The transformed Vorlag looked up, and for the first time, his sneer was replaced by a look of genuine shock and wariness. The Radiant Dawn disciples below, who had fallen into despair, let out a thunderous, morale-boosted cheer. "Grand Elder Theron!" Their fighting became fiercer, inspired by the presence of their ultimate protector.
"Well, well," Vorlag growled. "To think the great Grand Elder Theron would come himself. Is your Forest of the Radiant Dawn so pathetic that you must send an ancestor to clean up a simple mess on a backwater world?"
Grand Elder Theron's ancient, wise eyes surveyed the scene. "There is no mess too simple when your kind is involved, Vorlag," he said, his voice calm, yet carrying the weight of centuries. "I am here to right the wrongs that have been done." He wasted no more words, raising a single, wrinkled hand.
The spiritual energy of the entire cavern began to answer his call, gathering above his hand. Vorlag's monstrous face contorted in desperation. He knew he could not survive the attack that was forming.
"You are too late, old man!" he roared in defiance. "The offering is not complete but we can do this instead! You cannot stop the inevitable!"
As Theron's attack continued to gather power, Vorlag sacrificed himself immediately, as soon as he saw Theron he knew he had no chance. He detonated his own demonic core, and his monstrous form instantly exploded into a fine, crimson mist of blood and raw, demonic power that hung in the air, before the spear was fully formed.
This was the final activation of the grand technique. All across the encampment, brilliant red lines of light erupted from hidden arrays, shooting upwards and swirling towards the blood mist in the center of the cavern.
As the torrent of blood energy fed into the mist, the fabric of space itself began to rip and tear. A bleeding, unnatural wound in reality began to open—a swirling vortex of black and red energy, a portal.
Seeing this, Grand Elder Theron's face hardened. He thrust his hand forward, completing his technique. The now-formed translucent spear of pure world energy shot forward, slamming into the swirling mass of blood and demonic energy before the portal was fully formed.
A cataclysmic, utterly silent explosion of pure power erupted, a blinding white light that washed out all color and detail from the world. A shockwave of unimaginable force tore through the cavern, turning rock to dust and iron to vapor.
Theron did not forget about the prisoners, he was shielding them from the blast as well, a show of his amazing power and control on the battlefield.
Li Yu moved instinctively, positioning himself in front of Cyra, his own spiritual energy flaring to reinforce her illusionary cloak as they braced against the cataclysmic blast. The entire mountain groaned and shuddered as if it were about to collapse.
Slowly, the blinding light faded, and the dust began to settle. Grand Elder Theron hovered in the air, his expression grim. Below, a massive, hemispherical chunk of the valley floor had simply been erased from existence. But in the center of that new crater, where his attack had struck, the portal remained. It was flickering and unstable, but it was still open.
The ultimate attack of a 6th stage Soul Formation expert had not been enough to stop it. The battle was over, but the true horror was only just beginning.