Read Novel Full Chapter 460: SOVEREIGNS’ BATTLE V
Chapter 460: SOVEREIGNS’ BATTLE V
The elf queen fought with every fiber of her ancient, divine being.
She poured every last reserve of her will into reclaiming control of her own body, muscles straining so hard that veins stood out like cords beneath her flawless, luminous skin.
Sweat, rare and unwelcome, beaded on her forehead and trickled down her temples despite the eternal grace that usually kept her untouched by such mortal weaknesses.
Her fingers refused to obey, locked around the bowstring in a death grip she could not release.
Her arms trembled with the effort, shoulders burning, joints screaming in protest.
The more she resisted, the tighter the invisible chains became, wrapping around her nerves like barbed wire.
The realization sank in slowly, coldly, like poison spreading through her veins: she was completely, hopelessly trapped inside her own flesh.
Hopelessness bloomed in her chest, a cold, suffocating weight that made her divine heart stutter for the first time in millennia.
The direction of her arrow shifted on its own, slow, deliberate, almost mocking in its precision.
The tip tilted away from Dracula and locked straight onto Seraphim’s chest.
"Miranda, what are you doing?" Seraphim asked, a deep frown carving across his perfect, angelic features.
No one, not even an archangel of his stature, enjoyed having a divine arrow aimed directly at their heart.
The unease was palpable in his voice, a rare crack in his usual serene composure.
"Damn it!" Baal snarled, voice cracking like a whip. "Dracula has taken control of her body!"
His eyes ignited with ominous crimson light that seemed to burn the air itself.
Muscles swelled and rippled violently beneath his skin as raw, dangerous demonic energy erupted from every pore, thick, roiling waves of heat that warped the surrounding atmosphere into shimmering mirages and carried the heavy, choking stench of brimstone, burning sulfur, and scorched flesh.
The ground beneath his feet blackened and cracked from the sheer intensity.
A third eye slowly opened in the center of his forehead, glowing with a menacing, predatory stare that promised utter annihilation to anything it fell upon.
Baal, the only demon capable of wielding the Seven Desires, activated the sin of wrath.
Power flooded into him in a violent, euphoric surge.
Rage became pure, intoxicating fuel.
The more fury he felt, the stronger he grew, his body expanding slightly, veins of dark, pulsating energy threading across his skin like living tattoos of pure malevolence.
His breath came in hot, ragged bursts, each exhale carrying the faint scent of molten metal.
"Baal. What are you trying to do?" Vorth asked, voice heavy with disapproval and a hint of warning.
He did not like the dangerous, unstable vibe rolling off the demon lord in thick, oppressive waves.
"Cleaning up the cause of your mess," Baal spat, casting an unforgiving, enraged glare at the Primordial Dragon, eyes burning with something far beyond simple anger, something almost personal and unforgiving, before dashing forward in a blur of demonic speed.
The arrow released from the elf queen’s bow, still completely, cruelly out of her control.
It streaked forward like a cluster of blazing stars compressed into a single, lethal point of pure destruction.
The projectile shattered the sound barrier instantly, moving at more than twenty times the speed of sound.
The air screamed in violent protest, a visible shock cone forming around the shaft as it trailed white-hot plasma that scorched the fractured sky in its wake.
The ground below trembled from the sheer pressure wave, loose stones and debris lifting and spinning in its passage.
Seraphim stood his ground, every muscle locked in grim determination.
He knew he could not dodge something that fast.
All he could do was brace himself and endure the coming impact with everything he had.
"Light Guard," he whispered, eyes blazing with blinding holy radiance that lit the battlefield like a second sun.
A white, ethereal, almost soothing light descended upon him from above, like a gentle snowfall of pure, concentrated divinity.
The light felt warm, comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos around him. Seraphim stretched out his hand.
The surrounding radiance gathered, condensed, and slowly formed into a perfect shield made entirely of concentrated holy energy.
The barrier shimmered with serene beauty, edges glowing soft gold and pulsing with gentle, protective warmth.
He held the shield before him, ready to meet the arrow head-on, body braced, wings half-spread for stability.
But just like the elf queen, he lost control of his body in an instant.
"Dracula!!!!" Seraphim roared in pure, helpless annoyance, eyes burning with raw, impotent rage.
No longer in command of his own limbs, he watched in horror as his arms dropped limply to his sides.
The shield dissolved into harmless sparks that drifted away on the wind.
The angelic sovereign could only stand there, frozen in place, as the arrow slammed directly into his chest with devastating force.
Boom!
The collision was cataclysmic.
Space shattered once more in a violent explosion of light, force, and raw divine energy.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling outward in all directions, cracking the already fractured ground and hurling nearby debris skyward.
Seraphim was hurled backward, body tumbling end over end through the air, trailing golden blood in a thin, glittering arc as he vanished into the distant horizon.
Baal paid the archangel’s fate absolutely no mind.
He had already appeared directly in front of the elf queen, moving faster than thought, faster than sight.
Cruel and brutal as ever, he drove his fist straight into her chest with savage, unstoppable force.
Fingers punched through divine armor and radiant flesh alike, closing around her still-beating heart in a crushing vice grip.
The wet, sickening sound of impact echoed across the battlefield.
"Die now," Baal said coldly, beginning to squeeze with deliberate, merciless pressure.
"No one is killing anyone without my permission!"
Aaron appeared out of nowhere at the absolute nick of time, materializing in a ripple of distorted space.
He seized Baal’s wrist in an iron grip, fingers digging deep into demonic flesh.
With a single, merciless twist, he snapped the bones like dry twigs.
The sharp, wet crack echoed like breaking marble across the silent battlefield.
Baal stared at Aaron with pure, unfiltered menace, his third eye glaring with murderous intent.
Not so much as a sound of pain escaped his lips, only a low, rumbling growl of pure hatred.
Aaron could not have cared less.
Syncing seamlessly with the white sphere, the ego weapon transformed into a gleaming sword mid-motion.
In one clean, brutal stroke, he severed Baal’s hand at the wrist. Dark, steaming blood sprayed in a hot, viscous arc, splattering across the scorched earth.
With a cold, devastating kick to the chest, boot connecting with bone-crushing force, Aaron sent the demon lord flying backward, saving the elf queen’s life in the process.
Dracula, noticing Aaron’s plan with perfect clarity, immediately withdrew his blood essence from the elf queen’s body.
The crimson threads dissolved into faint, dissipating mist and vanished into the air.
"Thank you," the elf queen muttered weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her strength was rapidly diminishing, body swaying unsteadily as the last remnants of control slipped away.
She realized, with a strange mix of disbelief and reluctant gratitude, that she had just been saved by the very adversary she had come here to destroy.