Emperor's Reckoning

Chapter 1141 Celestial Magic Level Ten

The clash between Rakumtatak and the beggar unfolded like a tempest, each movement a dance of deadly precision. The beggar moved with otherworldly grace, sidestepping and parrying Rakumtatak's attacks with an eerie calmness. The onlookers were captivated by the display of swordsmanship and agility, their eyes following the swift exchanges that painted the air with trails of deadly intent.

Rakumtatak, despite his brute strength, found himself confounded by the beggar's elusive maneuvers. Frustration crept into his expression, and he unleashed a flurry of powerful strikes, attempting to overwhelm the beggar with sheer force. However, the beggar remained elusive, almost as if he could predict every move before it happened.

Amidst the intense combat, Rakumtatak couldn't help but taunt his enigmatic opponent. "Is this all you've got, beggar? Dodging won't save you forever!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the battleground. The beggar, however, maintained his stoic silence, continuing to dance around Rakumtatak's attacks with an unsettling calmness.

As the battle reached its peak, Rakumtatak began to notice subtle details that triggered a sense of recognition. The beggar's movements, the finesse in his swordplay — they bore a striking resemblance to someone Rakumtatak had encountered before. A moment of realization flickered across Rakumtatak's face as he synced the face with the sword skills.

"You... Phantom?" Rakumtatak exclaimed, his tone shifting from arrogance to astonishment. The beggar, now revealed as Liu the Phantom, maintained his silence, but the acknowledgment in his eyes spoke volumes. Rakumtatak, momentarily taken aback, processed the revelation that the beggar before him was one of Lyon's esteemed disciples, a formidable force hidden beneath a beguiling facade.

The onlookers, unaware of Liu's true identity, witnessed the sudden shift in dynamics. Rakumtatak, now aware of the Phantom's true prowess, adjusted his approach. The battleground crackled with tension as the two mighty forces prepared for the next phase of their epic confrontation. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novelenglish.net . Fɪre

The once-silent battleground echoed with the clash of titans, Rakumtatak and Liu locked in a fierce duel. Despite the Phantom's elusive maneuvers and uncanny sword skills, Rakumtatak's overwhelming strength began to tip the scales in his favor. Blow after blow, the beggar's defenses were gradually worn down, his tattered cloak revealing a glimpse of the hidden prowess within.

As Rakumtatak prepared for the final, decisive strike, a sudden revelation stayed his hand. The intricate mark of Purgatory, pulsing with ominous energy, adorned Liu's exposed chest. Rakumtatak, a seasoned warrior, recognized the significance of the mark and muttered in disbelief, "Purgatory mark? How is this possible?"

The Purgatory mark etched on Liu's chest was a haunting emblem that seemed to pulse with dark energy. Its intricate design bore the semblance of otherworldly symbols intertwined with ethereal threads, creating an ominous pattern that radiated an unsettling glow. The mark seemed alive, each pulsation sending ripples of shadowy hues across its surface.

As if scorched into Liu's flesh by the fires of an infernal realm, the mark bore an otherworldly elegance that contrasted sharply with the beggar's rugged appearance. It was a testament to a power far beyond the comprehension of those who witnessed it, a symbol that hinted at the depths of Liu's mysterious abilities. In the midst of the battle, the mark appeared both ancient and timeless, carrying with it the weight of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge.

The beggar, now identified as Liu, seized the opportunity afforded by Rakumtatak's momentary hesitation. With a burst of speed, Liu created a considerable distance between them, giving himself a chance to recover. Rakumtatak's brows furrowed as he observed the enigmatic figure before him, a newfound wariness in his eyes.

Cecile, her voice laced with disbelief and sorrow, exclaimed, "He's enslaved..." Her fingers dug into her palms, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil within her. The shock in her eyes mirrored the profound impact of witnessing a friend succumb to such a fate.

Selena, known for her composed demeanor, struggled to maintain her usual calm. Her hands trembled subtly as she assessed the situation. "This changes everything," she muttered, her mind racing through the implications of the Purgatory mark. The gravity of the moment wasn't lost on her, and she contemplated the challenges that lay ahead.

Rakumtatak, ever the seasoned warrior, found a twisted sense of respect in the revelation. "Incredible!" he declared, his voice carrying a perverse admiration. "Your unyielding desire to avenge your emperor stood true even in the face of absolute order!" His words, though acknowledging Liu's resilience, held an ominous tone that hinted at the impending clash.

Cecile, unable to contain her frustration and grief, voiced the painful truth. "He's been holding it all this time," she said with a mix of sorrow and anger. The realization of the burden Liu had silently borne added a layer of complexity to the unfolding drama.

As the onlookers absorbed the shocking truth, the atmosphere crackled with tension. The battlefield had become a stage for the intertwining narratives of loyalty, sacrifice, and the thirst for revenge. The silence that followed spoke volumes, setting the stage for the imminent clash between Rakumtatak and the enslaved Liu, a confrontation that promised to shape the course of the unfolding epic.

As Lyon unleashed the culmination of his power, a resounding war cry echoed through the battlefield. "Tatak!!" The very utterance carried a weight that reverberated in the air. Rakumtatak, the seasoned emperor, turned to face the battered Zodiac Emperor, a smirk playing on Lyon's worn yet determined face. "Try and live through this one," Lyon challenged a glint of anticipation in his prism-red eyes.

In response to Lyon's proclamation, a magical brand materialized in the sky, stretching across the expanse with an ethereal, iridescent glow. The onlookers, their mouths agape in awe, couldn't fathom the scale of the spectacle before them. Whispers of disbelief and admiration rippled through the crowd. "W-W... This is the power of the Zodiac Emperor? The history clearly... lacking some imagination..." someone stuttered, struggling to find words to describe the unprecedented magic unfolding.

With a commanding presence, Lyon announced the incantation with authority, "Celestial Magic level ten: Meteor!" The very mention of the spell level sent shivers down the spines of those present. The sky, once painted with sunlight, swiftly succumbed to darkness as the looming threat of a celestial body eclipsed the sun.

As the colossal meteor descended from the magical brand, the sheer force and weight of its presence began to alter the very fabric of the air. A powerful rush of displaced atmosphere trailed behind the celestial projectile, creating an invisible wave that pushed against everything in its path. The air, once calm, now trembled and recoiled in the face of this impending force.

The onlookers, scattered across the battlefield, could sense the disturbance. The gusts of displaced air reached their faces, ruffling hair and clothes. The pressure in the atmosphere intensified, amplifying the anticipation and anxiety among the witnesses. It was as if the very heavens themselves acknowledged the magnitude of the impending clash between Lyon's Immortal Magic and Rakumtatak's indomitable resilience.

Rakumtatak, veins pulsating with excitement, faced the impending cataclysm with a malicious grin. The massive meteor descended through the magic brand, hurtling toward the orc emperor. The sheer scale of the event left the onlookers paralyzed, their eyes glued to the impending collision between Lyon's unparalleled magic and the indomitable might of Rakumtatak. The battlefield, already scarred by the clashes of titans, was about to witness a finale that transcended the boundaries of imagination.

The collision between Lyon's celestial meteor and Rakumtatak's formidable presence unleashed a cataclysmic force that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Fourth Hell. The impact point became the epicenter of destruction, with shockwaves radiating outward in a violent display of elemental chaos.

The ground convulsed and heaved as if protesting against the immense forces at play. The soil, rocks, and flora were uprooted and hurled into the air, creating a chaotic tempest of debris. A dark plume of dust and smoke billowed, shrouding the immediate aftermath in an ominous haze.

The remnants of the once-stable terrain were now a distorted landscape of upheaval. Large craters marked the point of impact, their jagged edges testifying to the sheer force that carved into the earth. Trees, if any had survived the initial clash, stood like broken sentinels, their branches twisted and stripped of foliage.

The destructive energy released by the collision extended beyond the physical realm, affecting the very essence of the Fourth Hell. The air crackled with residual energy, charged with the remnants of the clash between Lyon's Celestial Magic and Rakumtatak's imposing strength.

Amidst the chaos, the onlookers struggled to maintain their footing, some shielding themselves against the airborne debris. The spectacle was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, a testament to the unparalleled power wielded by the two titans in their fierce confrontation.

As Lyon lay on the battered ground, his consciousness teetering on the edge of oblivion, a familiar yet concerned voice reached through the haze of his senses. The voice, firm and male, called out to him with an endearing term, "Little Lyon?" The sound, a beacon in the aftermath of celestial chaos, briefly touched Lyon's awareness before his consciousness succumbed to the encroaching darkness, leaving him to the enigmatic embrace of unconsciousness.