Chapter 216: Untitled

Just as the terrifying, white-haired Tyrant completely disappeared in a violent explosion of blue flames, the sky violently tore open.

A blinding, overwhelming set of pure angelic lights broke through the thick atmosphere, shooting outward in several different directions in a perfectly straight line.

Ethen had ruthlessly attacked Dragon Ridge several times before today, leaving a trail of blood and shattered treasuries in his wake.

As a direct, tactical result of his previous raids, the Demi-human military analysts had already successfully learned a little bit about how his spatial teleportation actually worked.

They had heavily studied the magical residue left behind by Jormungander’s massive, invisible body.

Through grueling analysis, they realized he could only move completely unhindered in one singular, linear direction around the globe when he actively used World Traversing.

That specific, geographical limitation made his movement slightly predictable in one specific way.

But physically catching a man who could instantly fold space was another matter entirely.

To successfully intercept Ethen mid-warp, an assassin desperately needed to know exactly which direction he was moving in and exactly how far he intended to travel.

More importantly, that complex, impossible mathematical calculation had to happen within a fraction of a split second before he arrived at his destination.

If Ethen even slightly noticed someone approaching his destination coordinates, he could simply pick another completely different direction and disappear into the void again.

"Hm?"

Ethen’s physical figure suddenly materialized out of thin air, his heavy boots touching down on top of a small, grassy hill hundreds of miles away from the ink cage.

The exact moment his feet touched the solid ground, the ambient temperature plummeted.

He immediately noticed a searing, blinding streak of holy light arrive directly alongside him, illuminating the dark grass.

His glowing red, demonic eyes narrowed sharply into dangerous slits.

The angelic light had somehow flawlessly followed his spatial trajectory, completely bypassing the linear constraints of his warp.

Ethen didn’t hesitate for a single second to ask questions.

He immediately pushed Jormungander’s conceptual power to move again.

He disappeared from the small hill in a violent blur of displaced air and reappeared somewhere entirely else across the vast continent.

Only to immediately find another blazing streak of holy light patiently waiting for him at the brand-new destination.

This time, as the blinding light faded, there were several others appearing in the dark sky as well.

Eight distinct, glowing streaks of angelic light had completely separated across the world.

Each one was moving rapidly toward a completely different, calculated direction, anticipating his every possible escape route.

"So that’s exactly how it is."

Ethen sneered coldly, his pale face twisting into a deeply mocking smile before blinking away once again.

But this time, he absolutely did not stop to rest, observe, or catch his breath.

He continued aggressively blinking over and over again, forcefully bouncing across the entire globe like a skipping stone thrown across a vast ocean.

He warped to the frozen peaks of the northern glaciers, shattering the ancient ice with his sudden arrival.

He warped to the burning, shifting sands of the eastern deserts, kicking up a massive sandstorm in his wake.

He warped directly above the raging, stormy waves of the Great Sea, the saltwater spraying against his dark robes.

Every single time he violently changed direction, the angelic lights seamlessly separated as well, rapidly spreading across the world to maintain their suffocating pursuit.

Ethen watched their precise, synchronized movements carefully through the temporary spatial tears.

He firmly believed this was some sort of high-level, conceptual cloning ability tied to the Angel’s unique divine authority.

The tactical way it was being used against him seemed simple and straightforward enough on paper.

Find his exact geographical location, immediately dispel the other false clones across the globe, and then allow a brand-new round of global tracking to begin from the real body.

If that was truly the case, Ethen had already easily figured out how to completely deal with the arrogant assassin.

Absolutely all he needed to do was ruthlessly wear them down in a brutal war of attrition.

He would just keep moving relentlessly, forcefully making the Angel continuously divide their forces and cast their massive tracking magic until their energy reserves were completely depleted.

After all, his own World Traversing ability was fundamentally tied to a divine summon.

It did not require a single drop of his own personal mana or spiritual energy to physically function.

He could effortlessly continue teleporting around the massive globe for days, weeks, or even months as long as Jormungander remained active.

Unfortunately, Ethen had completely, massively underestimated just how much raw, conceptual mana a fully ascended Angel truly possessed.

No matter exactly where he went, all across the massive world, the angelic lights were already there waiting for him.

They followed his spatial jumps relentlessly, perfectly matching his impossible speed without a single sign of fatigue.

There was absolutely always another glowing, holy clone waiting for him at the finish line, its weapon drawn and ready to strike.

Ethen violently appeared in one random, isolated location deep within a dark forest.

A blinding light immediately arrived, scorching the ancient trees.

He instantly disappeared, leaving the forest to burn.

Another streak of light violently followed his coordinates through the void.

He changed direction again, warping across an entire continent in the blink of an eye.

Another clone appeared right above the mountain peak he landed on.

The exhausting, high-speed pursuit continued endlessly across the entire world, but Ethen’s pale expression gradually became much more serious and grim.

His simple, foolproof war of attrition was absolutely not working.

The Angel’s spiritual reserves were simply entirely too large, constantly replenished by the World’s Will itself.

Eventually, hovering exhausted above a barren, rocky wasteland, Ethen came to a dark realization.

He had been successfully, tactically trapped once again by the Demi-human high command.

And this time, staring at the endless streaks of blinding light closing in from all directions, he could not immediately think of a violent way out.

"Fallon, that’s his name."

The calm, deeply authoritative voice came from far, far above the mortal atmosphere, completely detached from the chaos below.

"He’s an ancient, highly respected member of the Killin Clan. This absolute, conceptual tracking ability is entirely unique to his bloodline."

Standing high in the freezing sky atop an ancient, glowing stone platform floating through deep space, a man dressed entirely in black watched Ethen constantly dodge below.

The massive, runic platform safely remained suspended high above the global battlefield, far beyond the physical reach or sight of ordinary, mortal beings.

For this specific, apocalyptic war, God Almightys were absolutely not allowed to become directly, physically involved yet.

The conflict had its own strict, unspoken rules of engagement designed to prevent the total destruction of the Nether Realm.

But seeing that the Demi-human side had shamelessly deployed a fully realized Angel strictly to stop Ethen, the human side had to logically move one tier up in their observation as well.

"Old Jester, he’s your kid down there. Why don’t you step in and help him?"

Bartholomew asked casually, his dark, shifting eyes looking down at an older man wearing a strange, oversized top hat.

The old man appeared completely, utterly relaxed despite the global war raging across the continents below them.

"He has other reliable allies down there on the board. You don’t need to bother yourself about him right now."

The old man smiled warmly beneath his eccentric hat before taking another slow, deeply satisfying sip from his steaming porcelain cup of tea.

He calmly watched the burning, white-haired figure moving frantically through the skyline at a random location far below, entirely unbothered by the mortal struggle.

This floating platform was the central, tactical command of the human war effort so far.

His physical presence up here in the void was absolutely, fundamentally important for the magical defense of the White Tower.

His oversight was the only thing ensuring the continued survival of Windgrave against the beast-kin invasion.

He absolutely could not simply abandon his vital, strategic position just to swat a single, annoying Angel out of the sky.

Thankfully for Ethen, the young Tyrant was absolutely not without his own powerful help on the ground.

"Take this, you winged bastard!"

A blazing, flaming man suddenly appeared completely out of thin air, directly intercepting the closest streak of angelic light.

A glowing, divine lotus sat perfectly upon his forehead as his muscular body burned with intense, unquenchable karmic flames.

He struck violently first, refusing to give the Angel a single second to react to his sudden ambush.

Two angelic clones were immediately, brutally destroyed at once, their holy forms turning to black ash before they could even completely form their physical bodies.

Then, with a massive, spinning ring of condensed, roaring fire held tightly in his hand, the flaming man waved it aggressively through the cold air.

The intense flames spread rapidly across the skyline, hungrily chasing after the remaining angelic figures like a living, breathing beast unleashed from hell.

"You fucking traitor!"

The angelic figure cursed loudly, completely losing his holy, detached composure as he desperately tried to outrun the expanding ring of flames.

The intense, karmic flames continued rapidly closing in, hungrily eating away at the holy light and burning the very air around the clones.

Meanwhile, Ethen, who was hovering far below the explosive aerial battle, could only look upward in deep, genuine relief.

He deactivated his Tyrant Transformation, his snow-white hair rapidly bleeding back into its natural, dark black as his breathing steadied.

He watched quietly as Ni’an continuously, aggressively attacked the Angel that had been stubbornly following him across the globe.

The rogue prince of the flames was fighting with a terrifying ferocity, completely overwhelming the assassin’s tracking magic with pure, destructive firepower.

For the very first time since the exhausting, global chase began, Ethen finally had a brief moment to actually breathe and collect his thoughts.

He wiped a thin trail of blood from his nose, the physical toll of continuous spatial jumping finally catching up to his mortal body.

He needed to quickly reassess his global position and figure out exactly how many enemy cities remained on his designated kill list.

Then, a glowing blue system screen suddenly materialized directly before his eyes, completely interrupting his brief rest.

[ The massive military siege on Celestial City is about to officially begin. ]

Ethen’s dark eyes narrowed sharply into highly dangerous, unfeeling slits as he read the glowing text.

This was his next assigned target.

The absolute jewel of the Demi-human territories, and the very next location destined to be completely erased from the map by Jormungander’s wrath.