Read Novel Full Chapter 522: Invaders
Chapter 522: Invaders
Ronald excluded, the others rushed outside at the sound of screams. Chaos was loud. It had never been quiet and never would be.
The door to the Daniels house remained ajar. Mrs. Joy looked back at Ronald. He was on his knees, sobbing quietly as he held his lifeless wife.
He had drowned so deeply in his grief that the screams outside barely seemed to reach him. Or perhaps he was deliberately ignoring them.
Mrs. Joy turned away.
Far in the distance, Humanoid summons flew into the air in an attempt to escape, only to be shot down. Explosions erupted between buildings, and the earth trembled beneath her feet. Skills flashed one after another without end.
Whatever had invaded Paradise had come from the direction of the Watchman’s Tower.
"Mum! Stay inside with Mr. Ronald," Percival said urgently.
"I can help." Mrs. Joy stepped forward. "I know someone who can—"
"I know." Percival moved closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mr. Ronald needs someone with him. Stay."
Mrs. Joy stared into her son’s eyes.
"You know?"
Percival cocked an eyebrow. "Know what?"
"Percival!" Isaac’s voice rang from outside.
Percival left his mother and ran to join the others.
Their district was still safe. People had begun emerging from their homes, staring towards the distant explosions with curious, frightened eyes while ordering their children to remain indoors.
Paradise had never been attacked since its founding.
"It’s Cain," Lucy said solemnly.
"He was bound to do it one day," Isaac replied.
Two trucks pulled up. Oliver sat in the front passenger seat of the first and banged a hand against the steel door.
"We don’t have much time."
Percival climbed into the first truck with Lucy and Snow while Isaac joined the second.
Once they were moving, Oliver turned towards them. "We don’t know what happened to the Watchman, but the barrier keeping us banished is gone. We’re exposed, and we’re under attack by an army of elves."
"So we’re facing a dungeon gate that opened the moment the banishment was lifted?" Lucy sucked her teeth. "What are the odds?"
"What do you mean?" Oliver asked.
"There’s something wrong with all of this," Percival said.
"True..." Oliver looked through the windshield as they left the district behind. The explosions grew louder.
"Where’s Mr. Ronald?" His gaze shifted to the rearview mirror. "I noticed the healing water has gone dull. The vegetation it created is dying, and I couldn’t find the Elk."
No one answered. Oliver studied their faces through the mirror, then his expression changed.
"She was at the council hall, wasn’t she? Mr. Ronald must have teleported there." He sighed. "The signs say otherwise, but I hope she’s safe."
Lucy glanced at Percival’s stoic face.
Snow leaned against the window, watching the buildings pass as they drew closer to the most important district in Paradise.
The heart of the city.
The Court of the Elders stood there. So did the Watchman’s Tower and the statues of Paradise’s past Captains.
No one knew what had happened to the Watchman.
If the Elders fell as well, Paradise might never be the same.
Snow watched families fleeing through the streets, their summons helping them along. Orcs. Humans. Humanoids of all kinds. Many of them possessed power, yet their hurried movements and hunched postures betrayed their fear.
"High school wasn’t so bad after all," he mused.
The truck eventually slowed.
Ahead, the road had disappeared beneath a mass of people, everyone pushing towards the same escape route.
"This isn’t looking good." Oliver grimaced.
Snow rolled down the window and stretched out his hand.
Black glimmer threaded with enchanting green streamed from his palm and spread into a shimmering fog above the crowd.
Then the glimmer cleared and a bridge stood above them. The driver froze.
Snow watched him stare at the impossible road ahead, eyes wide.
"Drive."
The driver composed himself, and they continued across the bridge, descending back onto the road a short distance from a grotesque mound of corpses.
Summoners and their summons.
Among the dead stood a handful of lean Humanoids with grayish-black skin and light armour. Every one of them carried a bow, a quiver strapped across the back and a sword hanging from the waist.
Their long ears left no room for doubt. Elves.
They stood in a straight line across the road, blocking the Sentinels’ path towards the city’s core.
"The Elders." Oliver slammed the truck door and stepped out. "They’re after them."
"Either that, or they’ve chosen their ground," Percival said as he joined him with Lucy and Snow.
"No..." Snow muttered.
He raised his head.
More grayish-black elves had appeared in the surrounding buildings. Some stood at windows. Others lined the rooftops, bone-like armour covering their bodies.
Their bows were already drawn.
"It’s an ambush!"
Oliver’s warning was swallowed by a barrage of thunderous blasts. The might of Origin Tiers was not to be trifled with.
Window frames cracked and exploded. The air itself seemed to rupture beneath the force of the attacks as the entire street disappeared within a violent eruption of wind, dust and debris.
"They’re dead," a Crusader reported.
He stood high within a nearby tower, his face hidden behind a twin-horned white mask. From his neck to his feet, a black mantle shrouded his body.
Beside him loomed an Obsidian twice his size. The creature stood hunched, a cracked sword clutched in one hand as it peered down at the destruction below.
Through his summon’s eyes, Jon watched the cloud swallow the street.
He laughed.
There was no pleasure in him, but he laughed nonetheless. His happiness would not be taken from him. If it refused to come naturally, he would force it out.
"I have no doubt Percival and Snow survived." Jon’s laughter faded. "Those two are cockroaches. They don’t die until you’ve stomped and stomped until their innards paint a vivid picture across the floor."
The Crusader narrowed his eyes at the street below.
A great wave of wind and dust still obscured everything. Their enemies had been caught in an ambush by two dozen Origin Tiers. Monarch or Sovereign, they should have suffered severe damage.
And their inability to die from mortal skills would only make what came next worse.
Death would have been a mercy.
The Crusader knew what awaited them if Jon took them alive.
At last, the dust began to clear.
His eyes widened.
The Origin Tier elves were killing one another.
One drove a dagger into another’s throat. Another wrestled desperately with one of its own. By the time the haze thinned completely, only one remained.
The elf plunged its dagger into itself. Silence settled over the ruined street.
Green glimmer lingered around the corpses, its enchanting, gentle light eerily beautiful against all that blood.
One man remained standing. White-haired, one hand raised while the other was tucked casually into his pocket. His eyes glowed as green glimmer danced around him.
Jon stared down at him. "Will you run this time?"
His grip tightened around his sword. Then he glanced at the Crusader beside him and grunted.
The man understood. He nodded and left.
Below, Snow raised his hand and pointed directly at the tower.
His eyes burned brighter than ever.
Jon moved. The wall shattered as he launched himself through it.
Hundreds of feet above the ground, Jon sailed through the open air, descending rapidly towards Snow.