Chapter 96 – Against the Chosen One for the Last Time

As the battle raged between the Archangels and the adventurers, Apollyon and Azazel finally breached the cathedral’s front gate. The enormous holy doors trembled beneath the force of their combined punches, sending a deafening shockwave through the surrounding walls. Dust and fragments of stone scattered across the entrance, while the doors themselves flew open with a tremendous crash. The sound reverberated throughout the cathedral, drowning out the distant cries of wounded soldiers and the clashing of weapons outside.

Several holy knights immediately rushed forward to defend the entrance. Clad in gleaming white armor adorned with golden ornaments, they raised their divine swords against the two intruders. Their polished armor reflected the faint light filtering through the cathedral’s windows, while the holy symbols engraved upon their breastplates glowed with divine energy. Despite their imposing appearance, Apollyon showed no hesitation as he advanced toward them.

With a powerful swing of his broadsword, Apollyon cleaved through their defensive formation. The tremendous force of his weapon sent three holy knights crashing onto the marble floor, their armor ringing loudly as they fell. One of them attempted to crawl away, desperately dragging his injured body across the cold stone while leaving a trail of blood behind.

“Hard to believe that you were once like them,” Azazel commented, glancing at the fallen knights. “They probably were your comrades too.”

“Comrades, yes. Friends, no,” Apollyon replied coldly.

Without another word, he approached the wounded holy knight who was desperately trying to escape. The man looked back at him, his trembling hands reaching toward his fallen sword. Apollyon showed no mercy as he finished the job with a swift strike. The sound of steel cutting through armor echoed briefly before the knight’s body went limp.

Apollyon wiped the blood from his broadsword before turning toward his companion.

“Which way?”

“At the back of the altar,” Azazel answered, pointing toward the cathedral’s interior.

However, their conversation was interrupted by the approaching footsteps of additional holy knights. More and more of them assembled near the entrance, forming a defensive line with their swords and shields raised. The metallic clatter of their armor grew louder as they marched forward, their faces hidden behind polished helmets. Several Archangels had also noticed the intruders, and the atmosphere inside the cathedral became increasingly tense.

Azazel merely scoffed at their attempt to stop him. His crimson-purple eyes glowed beneath the shadow of his helmet as he spread his mechanical wings. The powerful appendages unfolded with a metallic screech, releasing waves of energy that illuminated the cathedral’s entrance. With a sudden burst of propulsion, he flew upward, hovering above the assembled holy knights.

“Out of my way.”

Azazel spun in midair, extending his wings as crimson-purple energy gathered around their edges. Dozens of luminous arrows materialized from the swirling energy, their sharp tips aimed directly at the knights below. With a flick of his wings, he unleashed the barrage.

The energy arrows descended like a rain of crimson-purple light, cutting through the air with piercing whistles. Their impact shook the cathedral’s entrance, sending sparks and fragments of stone flying in every direction. The holy knights immediately responded by deploying their shields, forming a defensive wall in front of them. Divine energy spread across their protective barriers, creating a shimmering white formation that absorbed the incoming attacks.

The energy arrows struck the shields with tremendous force, producing a series of thunderous explosions. The knights gritted their teeth as they struggled to maintain their formation, their boots scraping against the marble floor. Although their defenses managed to withstand the initial barrage, the continuous bombardment forced them to concentrate entirely on protecting themselves.

But Azazel had no intention of allowing them to remain in their defensive position.

He suddenly folded his wings and dived toward the ground. The air around him distorted as he accelerated, leaving behind a streak of crimson-purple light. The holy knights barely had time to look up before Azazel descended upon them with a devastating punch.

His fist slammed into the marble floor, producing a violent shockwave that spread throughout the cathedral’s entrance. The ground cracked beneath the impact, sending fragments of stone flying into the air. At the same time, Azazel unleashed a powerful swipe of his energy wings, releasing a concentrated wave of crimson-purple energy.

The resulting explosion engulfed the holy knights in a blinding flash of light. Their defensive formation was immediately shattered, and several knights were blasted backward, crashing against the cathedral walls. Others lost their footing and tumbled across the floor, their shields and swords scattered among the debris. The smell of burning stone and scorched metal filled the air as the remaining knights struggled to recover from the devastating attack.

With the entrance finally cleared, Apollyon and Azazel continued their advance. Their footsteps echoed through the cathedral as they walked past the fallen holy knights, their weapons still dripping with blood and energy. Neither of them bothered to look back at the destruction they had left behind.

Their destination lay deeper within the cathedral.

The two Halochassis users proceeded toward the passage leading to the underground levels, passing through the cathedral’s enormous altar and descending into its dimly lit corridors. The atmosphere gradually changed as they moved farther away from the battlefield. The sounds of combat became muffled by the thick stone walls, replaced by the distant murmuring of prayers and the hurried footsteps of the clergy.

They eventually reached the clerics’ quarters, where numerous clerics and nuns had gathered in a state of panic. Some hurriedly hid behind wooden furniture, while others clutched their religious symbols and whispered desperate prayers. The faint smell of incense lingered in the corridors, mingling with the unpleasant scent of smoke and blood carried by the intruders.

Upon seeing Apollyon and Azazel approaching, several clerics froze in terror. Their faces turned pale as they recognized the unmistakable appearance of the two Halochassis users. A few attempted to flee through the side passages, their robes fluttering as they hurried away.

However, Apollyon and Azazel paid them no attention. The frightened clergy were of no concern to them, and neither of them had any intention of wasting precious time dealing with those who stood no chance of stopping their advance.

After passing through the clerics’ quarters, they finally reached the underground hall.

The enormous chamber stretched across a wide expanse of stone, its towering pillars supporting the cathedral’s foundations above. Dimly glowing lamps illuminated the walls, casting long shadows across the floor. The air was cold and damp, carrying the musty smell of ancient stone and the lingering traces of divine energy. Their footsteps echoed throughout the vast chamber, creating an eerie atmosphere that seemed almost untouched by the chaos raging above.

Azazel immediately recognized the place.

He remembered this very hall, where they had fought the resurrected Demon King. The memories of that battle remained vivid in his mind, from the overwhelming presence of the Demon King to the destruction that had nearly consumed the entire underground chamber. Although the room appeared largely unchanged, something about it immediately caught his attention.

There was one noticeable difference.

At the far end of the chamber stood an enormous door, its surface decorated with intricate religious engravings. The surrounding walls were unusually quiet, and the faint glow of divine energy seemed to gather around the entrance. Whatever lay beyond that door was clearly important enough to warrant such elaborate protection.

And standing directly in front of it was Alexander Goldheart.

The Chosen One was seated comfortably on a chair, his posture relaxed despite the ongoing battle above. He held his golden sword in one hand, resting its tip against the floor like a staff. The weapon gleamed beneath the dim lighting, its polished surface reflecting the faint glow of the underground lamps.

Alexander’s presence alone was enough to make the atmosphere feel oppressive. His golden eyes remained fixed on the approaching intruders, showing neither surprise nor concern. He appeared almost amused by their arrival, as though he had been expecting them all along.

Apollyon stopped several meters away from him.

“There you are, you fucking bastard,” he said, his voice echoing throughout the underground hall.

Alexander slowly raised his head, his golden eyes narrowing as he recognized the familiar figure standing before him.

“Adzeel Schwarzer.” He tilted his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of contempt. “I thought the First Prince was torturing you, only to find out that you are in cahoots with that fool.”

His golden eyes glowed faintly as he spoke, illuminating the edges of his face with an eerie radiance.

“Good thing Lireina took care of him. He doesn’t deserve to rule, much less to live, in this world.”

Apollyon remained silent for a moment, his grip tightening around his broadsword. The mere mention of Lireina and the First Prince seemed to aggravate him, but he refused to let Alexander’s words distract him from the reason he had come here.

“This isn’t about him. This is about me and you.”

Apollyon stepped forward, raising his buster sword and pointing its massive blade directly at Alexander. The weapon’s metallic surface reflected the faint light of the underground hall, while its sharp edge gleamed ominously in the darkness. His entire body radiated hostility, and the murderous intent in his voice was unmistakable.

“Remember my promise. I will kill you. You will pay with blood and bone for what you did to my Rachel.”

Alexander merely stared at him for a moment before the corners of his mouth curled into a mocking smirk. He leaned back against his chair, seemingly unconcerned by the threat of the man standing before him.

“Have I told you already that it was not me who cheated?” Alexander asked casually. “Your wife chose me.”

His smirk widened, and his golden eyes gleamed with amusement.

Apollyon’s grip on his buster sword tightened even further. The sound of metal creaking beneath his armored fingers echoed through the chamber, while the air around him seemed to grow heavier with barely restrained fury.

“Shut up!” Apollyon roared, his voice reverberating throughout the underground hall. “I’m going to kill you now!”

His patience had finally reached its limit. The mere sight of Alexander’s mocking smile was enough to make his blood boil, while the memories of Rachel’s betrayal continued to gnaw at his heart. Apollyon tightened his grip around his broadsword before suddenly driving its massive blade into the ground. The metallic impact echoed through the chamber, followed by a deep rumbling that shook the surrounding pillars.

A moment later, a tremendous ring of purple flames erupted from beneath his feet. The unholy fire spread rapidly across the underground hall, crawling along the marble floor like a living creature. Its eerie glow illuminated the towering pillars and cast distorted shadows across the walls. The temperature inside the chamber rose dramatically, yet the flames gave off an unnatural sensation that seemed to drain the warmth from the surrounding air. The unmistakable presence of unholy energy filled the room, making even the divine aura emanating from Alexander’s body flicker.

Alexander remained seated for a moment, observing the phenomenon with considerable interest. His golden eyes followed the swirling flames as they spread throughout the chamber, and his expression gradually shifted from amusement to curiosity.

“Those flames of yours are quite interesting,” Alexander remarked. “I can sense unholy energy in them. The same kind we encountered when we went to Hell to defeat the Demon King.”

Apollyon raised his head, his crimson-purple eyes burning with hatred behind his helmet. The flames reflected across his armor, giving his already imposing silhouette an even more sinister appearance.

“Don’t worry,” he growled. “I’ll deliver you there myself!”

With a furious roar, Apollyon activated the magical thrusters installed within his power armor. The mechanisms beneath his armor roared to life, releasing bursts of purple energy that propelled him forward at tremendous speed. The ground beneath his feet cracked as he accelerated, leaving behind a trail of burning flames.

His buster sword was enveloped in an intense layer of purple fire. The flames twisted around the massive blade, forming an ominous aura that distorted the air with every movement. Apollyon swung his weapon with all his might, aiming directly for Alexander’s head.

The enormous blade descended with a deafening whistle, its destructive force threatening to split the underground hall apart.

However, Alexander reacted at the very last moment.

With an effortless movement, he raised his golden sword and parried the incoming attack. The two weapons collided with a tremendous metallic clang, releasing a shockwave that spread across the chamber. Sparks and fragments of purple flames scattered in every direction, briefly illuminating the surrounding darkness.

Despite the tremendous force behind Apollyon’s strike, Alexander remained completely unfazed. His golden sword held firm against the flaming buster sword, while his expression revealed nothing but amusement.

Alexander smiled.

“You’re still too weak,” he declared. “You can’t defeat me.”

Apollyon gritted his teeth as he struggled against the Chosen One’s overwhelming strength. The vibrations from their weapons traveled through his arms, threatening to destabilize his entire power armor. Yet despite the pain and strain, he refused to back down.

“I know,” Apollyon replied.

His crimson-purple eyes narrowed as he glanced toward Alexander’s blind spot.

“But he will.”

A faint movement caught Alexander’s attention.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a black armored figure standing behind him. The stranger’s crimson-purple eyes gleamed ominously in the darkness, while the barrel of a laser magnum pistol was already pointed directly at his head.

Alexander barely had time to register the threat before the weapon fired.

A brilliant flash erupted from the pistol, followed by a deafening blast that shook the underground hall. The laser projectile tore through the air with tremendous speed, leaving behind a glowing trail of crimson-purple energy.

Alexander immediately leaned backward, narrowly evading the direct hit. The projectile passed dangerously close to his forehead before its shockwave exploded against the surrounding air.

Although he managed to avoid the bullet itself, the sheer force of the blast was enough to cut through his forehead. A thin wound appeared across his skin, and a trickle of blood began to run down his face.

For the first time since the battle began, Alexander’s expression changed.

Meanwhile, Apollyon’s Hybrid Armor absorbed the excess shockwave from the magnum’s discharge. The protective system activated automatically, dispersing the destructive force across his armor before it could damage his body. A series of warning indicators flashed across his internal display, accompanied by the familiar mechanical hum of the armor’s defensive mechanisms.

[Hybrid Armor: 62%]

Alexander wiped the blood from his forehead with his fingers. His golden eyes shifted toward the black armored figure behind him, studying the unfamiliar movement and fighting style.

“That movement...” he muttered. “It’s similar to Lireina’s.”

His expression became increasingly serious as he tried to understand the situation. The sudden attack had caught him off guard, and the presence of another Halochassis user complicated matters considerably.

Apollyon seized the opportunity.

With another furious swing, he brought his flaming buster sword down toward Alexander. The unholy flames roared as the enormous blade descended, forcing Alexander to abandon his previous stance.

Instead of attempting to parry the attack with his ordinary sword, Alexander channeled divine energy into his golden weapon. Its blade rapidly expanded, growing larger and larger until it became an enormous golden structure. The weapon’s transformation produced a deep, resonating hum that echoed throughout the underground hall.

Within seconds, the massive golden blade had become a towering wall between Alexander and Apollyon.

The flaming buster sword crashed against its surface, producing a tremendous explosion of sparks and purple flames. The impact shook the chamber, but Alexander’s oversized weapon successfully blocked the attack. Its golden surface gleamed brightly against the darkness, creating a stark contrast with the sinister flames surrounding Apollyon.

Alexander then pushed forward, forcing Apollyon to retreat before leaping backward to create some distance between himself and his opponents.

His boots touched the ground with a soft metallic clank. He briefly examined the battlefield, observing the positions of both Halochassis users and the lingering purple flames that continued to spread across the floor.

Then, almost immediately, he figured out the truth.

A knowing smirk appeared on his face.

“Those Unholy Flames of yours disable our Goddess Blessings,” Alexander said, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. “My Autonomous Victory... I can’t seem to activate it.”

His golden eyes narrowed as he attempted to summon his usual divine power. However, the familiar sensation of overwhelming certainty never came. The ability that had guaranteed his victory in countless battles remained completely inaccessible.

For someone who had always relied on his Autonomous Victory, the realization was deeply unsettling.

Apollyon noticed Alexander’s frustration and immediately turned toward Azazel. The two of them exchanged a brief glance, silently acknowledging that their strategy was working.

“Unlike my fight with Lireina, Alexander is considerably weaker without his Autonomous Victory,” Apollyon explained. “Let’s keep it up. Don’t hesitate to hit me, as long as you hit him.”

Azazel tilted his head slightly, his crimson-purple eyes glowing beneath his helmet.

“Got it,” he replied. “Let’s go!”

Without wasting another second, the two Halochassis users began their coordinated assault.

Apollyon charged straight toward Alexander, his magical thrusters roaring as he accelerated across the underground hall. Purple flames engulfed his buster sword once again, leaving a trail of burning energy behind him. His objective was simple: keep Alexander occupied and prevent him from concentrating on Azazel.

Meanwhile, Azazel took a different approach.

He made a detour toward the left side of the chamber, moving swiftly behind the towering pillars. His mechanical wings unfolded slightly to stabilize his movements, while the magnums in his hands began charging with crimson-purple energy.

The weapons emitted a low humming sound as their energy accumulators reached full capacity. Azazel carefully adjusted his trajectory, waiting for the perfect moment to strike from close range.

Apollyon’s flaming buster sword clashed once again against Alexander’s gigantic golden blade.

The impact produced another thunderous explosion, sending waves of energy throughout the underground hall. Alexander focused his attention entirely on Apollyon, attempting to overpower the former Holy Knight through sheer strength. His golden sword pushed against the flaming weapon, forcing Apollyon to brace himself against the tremendous pressure.

The two weapons remained locked together as their wielders struggled for dominance.

And that was precisely the opportunity Azazel had been waiting for.

He emerged from behind Alexander, his movements swift and deliberate. The black armor reflected the flickering light of the purple flames, while his crimson-purple eyes remained fixed on the back of Alexander’s head.

Both magnums were raised.

Their barrels pointed directly at Alexander’s exposed blind spot, and the energy within their chambers surged with a threatening intensity.

Azazel’s voice echoed through the underground hall.

“You’re dead!”

Alexander, however, did not appear concerned. Instead, he smiled.

“No. You.”

The words sent a sudden chill through Azazel’s mind. Before either Apollyon or Azazel could react, Alexander spoke a single command.

“Awaken, Golden Samael.”

The realization struck them both at almost the same instant.

Their eyes widened as they noticed something they had overlooked throughout the entire confrontation. Beneath Alexander’s immaculate white and gold attire, he had been wearing a Halochassis glove all along. Its golden surface blended almost perfectly with the rest of his outfit, making it difficult to distinguish from his ordinary armor.

It was an incredibly subtle detail, one that neither of them had considered important until now.

Alexander had never been unarmed. A sudden surge of divine energy erupted from his body.

The golden glove began glowing intensely, releasing a blinding radiance that rapidly spread across the underground hall. The energy gathered around Alexander’s arm before expanding outward, enveloping his entire body in a massive golden aura.

Apollyon and Azazel barely had time to react.

The resulting blast struck both of them simultaneously, sending their armored bodies flying backward. The tremendous force hurled Apollyon across the chamber, while Azazel was thrown away from Alexander before he could fire his magnums.

The shockwave swept through the underground hall, scattering debris and extinguishing several patches of purple flames. The surrounding pillars trembled beneath the pressure, and the sound of the explosion reverberated throughout the cathedral’s foundations.

For several moments, the entire chamber was swallowed by golden light.

Then, slowly, the radiance began to fade.

As the dust settled and the remaining energy dissipated, a new silhouette emerged from the center of the underground hall.

Alexander Goldheart was no longer merely holding his golden sword.

He was now fully equipped with a golden Halochassis. The Golden Samael had awakened.